Page 17 of A Whisper of Summer Magic

“Me neither.”

“Proceed with caution?”

Meghan laughed, the sound startling her. When was the last time she’d laughed with someone? Been intrigued and briefly out of her head?

“This is a time of great uncertainty, upheaval for me,” she began wishing she could explain her headspace to him but also thinking that would be too much of a buzzkill.

“Best time to try something new,” Jackson said, all practical.

She opened her mouth to tell him his philosophy lacked gravitas, when his expression changed from amusement—maybe he was teasing her after all—to wonder.

“Wow, would you look at that?”

Meghan turned in the direction he was looking, unsure what she was looking for. What could possibly create that spark of mystery and awe?

He laughed. Hopped out of the Gator, his lithe fitness irritating her once again that she was so banged up, while he stalked off like a conquering hero. He bent and picked up something and then turned around, holding it aloft.

“If that isn’t a sign that your world is ready to be blown wide open, Meghan Maye, then I’d say you’re deliberately not paying attention.”

“So, sue me,” she said flippantly, and then as he strode back, flipping through pages, she yipped in surprise when she realized what he held.

How was it possible?

“Give it here,” she demanded caught between relief, fear and curiosity.

He held on to theSouthern Love Spellsbook, his expression and posture ripe with challenge.

“That’s not how it works, Megs. Why should I make it that easy for you?”

Chapter Four

“Unbelievable,” Meghan marveledfor probably the tenth time.

She was back on the porch couch drinking a chilled concoction of coconut milk, turmeric, ginger, cinnamon, and cardamon that sounded awful, but actually tasted really good.

The book sat on the side table, next to Jackson, and she kept staring at it, willing an explanation.

“You didn’t use the book for this,” she hesitated.

“Oooooo spooky-wooky mojo.” He laughed and wiggled his fingers at her and then shouted, “Boo.”

“Funny. Not.”

“Yeah, it is.” He sat in a chair opposite her, the sun haloing him and making it hard to read his expression, but she could tell he was smiling. “Is there a wand that comes with the book?”

Somehow, he managed to ask that without sounding facetious. “Like Galinda singing ‘Popular.’” He popped to his feet, pretending to hold a wand and sang the first verse of the song in a surprising rich, gorgeous, in-tune voice, and then ended with pointing at her and dramatically intoning, “Ball gown.”

“I can’t believe you watchedWicked.”

“I love musicals.”

“You do not.”

“Stereotype much?” He broke into “Defying Gravity,” which was one of Meghan’s favorite all-time songs ever—the drama, the sass, the fear-soaked bravado and the breaking the bonds to step into your own power.

But while Chloe, her youngest sister, though not by blood, had a gorgeous, flexible voice that could soar octaves, Meghan to her deepest disappointment couldn’t reliably carry a tune so she only sang alone in her car.

Jackson threw his arms wide—maybe in his mind he now held a broom—and belted out the iconic ending of the song, and Meghan was so stunned. Chloe would sayjellyand then probably jump up and join him. Envy slithered through Meghan, though she knew that was wrong. She’d had many gifts in her life and had used her brain and drive to rise near to the top of her profession.

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