Even if my own heart broke in the process.

Chapter Fifteen.

The sun dappled the water, creating glistening sparkles of light almost as far as the eye could see. "This is amazing. I didn't know you sailed," I said to Ethan. He'd shown up that morning with a huge picnic basket in tow. I'd a.s.sumed we were heading out for a hike, but when he asked me if I had a problem with motion sickness, I knew I was wrong.

Luckily, I didn't. And with my morning sickness a thing of the past, so far everything had been...well, smooth sailing.

"It's a pa.s.sion of mine. I've had this boat for about two years." We'd dropped anchor a few minutes earlier, and now we were both seated on deck. It wasn't a large s.p.a.ce, but certainly big enough for the two of us. "I thought it would be nice to get away from everything and relax. So we could really talk."

"I love that." I took in the sights around me-the water, other boats dotting the horizon, even a few water-skiers-and sighed. "I love this. Thank you for bringing me here."

"You're very welcome." He dug out a bottle of sunscreen and offered it to me. "I don't want you to burn. The sun is stronger than it seems, and you're fairly pale."

Accepting it, I squeezed out a glob and began rubbing it into my legs, and then my arms, aware that his gaze stayed planted on me the entire time. We both wore khaki shorts and white T-shirts, a fact Ethan had found humorous, and I found...well, hopeful. Dumb, huh? Like the accidental choice of similar clothes meant anything other than a weird coincidence.

When I finished, I tossed the bottle back to him. He caught it easily, and coated his own skin with a layer of the coconut-scented lotion. And then we just sat in silence for I don't know how long, and it was exactly what I needed after the previous night.

The quiet wasn't uncomfortable; it didn't make me feel like I needed to fill it with words or actions, so I didn't. I leaned back in my chair and stretched my legs as much as I could, the sun warm on my skin, the breeze light on my face, enjoying the gentle sway of the boat, and I did exactly what Ethan had suggested: relaxed. I didn't allow myself to dwell on my dream, because at that moment nothing had changed as far as Ethan went. And even though I knew what I had to do, and I planned on doing it, today was a gift.

After a while, I shielded my eyes with my hand and regarded the man sitting across from me. His eyes were closed, his legs stretched in front of him, his arms cradled behind his head. I sort of wanted to ease myself into his lap, caress his jawline, stroke his arms, and then drag him into the cabin and yank every bit of clothing off of him.

Okay, not sort of. That was exactly what I wanted to do.

I restrained myself, because while I'd have loved every freaking minute of it, I needed to gather some information. I'd thought long and hard about it all morning while getting ready. I'd continued to think about it on the car ride over, and even as I had watched him maneuver the sailboat to our present position. Obviously logic didn't have an iota to do with how I felt about him, because there was no logic; things were just what they were. And while I still wanted to see his shoulder, there were other avenues open to me until I did. For one, I could definitely learn more about the man, and maybe that would erase some of my questions.

Of course, it could open up other questions. But it was worth the chance. I couldn't wait forever.

The first thing was determining how closed off he was to the idea of magic. "Ethan?"

"Hmm?" His eyes remained shut.

"Why did you name your company Enchanted Expressions? What with your feelings about the supernatural and all?"

One eye opened and then the other. "That's an interesting question. Part of it was business-minded. People come to us and they want us to create magic for them, for their companies. I felt the name was appropriate, given that consideration."

"There's more, though?"

"As I said before, I grew up in my grandparents' house. My grandmother was a major influence on me, and she lives her life based much on old-world traditions, many of which are grounded in the supernatural." He blinked, and his smile broadened. "She's an incredible woman. I would have to say that part of the reason Enchanted Expressions has its name is because of her. In a way, it's meant to honor her and her beliefs."

"Even if you don't believe yourself?"

"I'm not a complete nonbeliever, Alice. It's a little hard to explain. Let's leave it that I'm open-minded, but prefer to make choices based on things I know and see rather than things that can't be proven. Does that make sense?"

"It does." It helped me feel somewhat better too. I mean, as long as he was open-minded, there was a chance he'd accept the power that existed in my family. "I think it's really great you love your grandmother so much."

"It's no more than the love I see between you and Verda. There's another woman who definitely has some out-there beliefs."

I laughed. "She's always been that way. I grew up hearing about magic and wishes and now I understand why." Oops. Big oops, because I hadn't meant to say that.

He'd caught on too. "What do you mean?"

I tried to make light of my words. "Just family stuff. We have a long and varied history that I've only recently learned about." Yay! Points to me for not lying.

"I think most families, if they search back far enough, will find something." Curiosity gleamed for just a second in his eyes, and I thought he was going to ask me more about it, but he didn't. Instead, he said, "Anything else you want to know? I feel further questions emanating from you. I told you last night I'd always be honest, so don't hesitate."

As much as I worried about the magic, my next question concerned me even more. I exhaled and sat up straight. "Well. Just one more, actually, and it's probably something I should have asked before now."

He must have noticed the seriousness in my voice, because he leaned toward me. "Okay. I'm listening."

"I'm having a baby," I blurted.

Humor darted over his features. "I know that, Alice."

"Yeah. Right. Of course you do. But if...well, if we were to become even more serious, you'd have a certain role in this child's life. I guess I need to know if you've thought about that at all. Because that's important to me."

"Of course I have. I've given it considerable thought, actually."

"And?" Everything inside of me tensed while I awaited his response.

"I wouldn't be here with you now if I had any worries on that front. I've felt this magnetic pull toward you since the moment we met, and it hasn't eased." He paused, watching me carefully, shoulders tensed.

"It's the same for me," I said, answering the question in his eyes.

His body relaxed. "I already consider us serious, and I have hopes for our future-and that future includes your child." He gave a slight grin. "And maybe others."

"Oh. Wow. Okay, then." A sense of surety floated in. I could see Ethan in my future, in my daughter's future, and not only did it feel right, I'd have bet money at that second that it was right. A little more of the fear from the previous evening slipped away.

"Feel better?"

"Yes. I mean, from a practical standpoint." Heat rushed through me. I didn't care. "Today makes me...happy."

"That makes two of us." His fingers brushed my knees and another blast of warmth saturated me. "Ready for lunch?"

At that point, talking was so not going to happen, so I nodded.

"Wait there. I'll call you when it's ready." He disappeared into the cabin.

"I can help," I called from behind him.

He popped his head back out and tossed me his s.e.xy-as-sin grin. "Let me do this. I want to take care of you today."

Take care of me? Wow again. "Okay...I'll just sit here."

While I waited, I rehashed our entire conversation in my head, and the surety I'd felt earlier strengthened. Yes, I still needed to take the proper steps, to find the facts that would line up with my feelings, but really, I didn't think that was going to be a problem. At least, I hoped it wouldn't. Really, really hoped.

Less than twenty minutes later, Ethan returned and held out his hand. I gripped it and, with a gentle tug, he pulled me to my feet, his touch both electrifying and calming. We took the few steps down to the cabin in single file, with him leading the way. Curious, I stopped at the bottom and looked around.

The room was small but impeccably kept, which didn't surprise me. A little table sat on one side, surrounded by booth-type seats. The other wall held a sink, minimal counter s.p.a.ce, and a tiny refrigerator. A narrow door led to the restroom, or as Ethan called it, the head. All in all, nice but nothing spectacular.

What staggered me was the attention he'd put into our lunch, into the scene he'd created. He'd found battery-operated candles somewhere, and two of them were on the table, softly glowing. Soft music from an MP3 player filled the air, and there were two champagne gla.s.ses with a bubbly, amber liquid in them. "Ginger ale?" I asked, nodding toward them.

"Yes. Someday, it will be champagne. After the baby."

One by one, he lifted the covers off of the food. There was a cold chicken pasta dish, fresh fruit, and some dinner rolls. There was also a container of chocolate chip cookies in a very recognizable box.

"You've met my sister?" I asked.

"I stopped by A Taste of Magic yesterday and quizzed her on your favorite foods. I wanted everything to be just right."

Another type of glow eased in. With a shot of surprise, I realized I hadn't been quite this content in a very long time. "It is right, Ethan. Exactly right."

"I'm glad." He picked up his ginger ale filled champagne gla.s.s. "To the most curious, intriguing, and breathtaking woman I've ever met. I hope we share many meals together."

Because I so seconded that, I lifted my gla.s.s and clinked his. "I couldn't have planned a better day. You...well, you continue to startle me."

I spoke too soon, because what he did next startled me even more. After we slid into our seats, he fed me my first bite of pasta, and then leaned over and kissed me. No man, ever, unless it was my father when I was a child, had ever fed me a bite of anything. And as weird as it might sound, not only did that one little action completely melt my heart, but it so turned me on. Who knew feeding someone could do that? Not me, that was for sure.

We ate our lunch and then returned to the deck. The rest of the day pa.s.sed in a blur of laughter, more kissing, and by the time my head hit the pillow that night, I knew I was a goner.

I'd fallen in love with Ethan Gallagher.

Grandma Verda stared at me stubbornly, her frail shoulders set in a rigid line. "You have to do this. I hope you're right and Ethan's the one, but with what you experienced the other night, you can't chance it, Alice."

I'd planned on telling her and my sister about Miranda having twins, but it seemed that conversation wasn't going to happen today. I scrunched my hands into fists and returned her stare. "I'm not chancing anything, Grandma. But I'm not setting up any dates with these"-my gaze flipped over the files stacked on my dining room table-"models yet, either."

"What if you're wrong about Ethan? You're willing to risk everything on a hunch?" my grandmother demanded.

"The way I feel isn't a hunch." But still, her words twisted in my stomach, because no, I wouldn't risk everything.

Elizabeth cleared her throat. "There is a compromise." That is my sister, always the peacemaker. And yeah, I so appreciated that.

"Compromises are good," I said. "I can do a compromise."

"You don't have to actually set the dates up yet, but Grandma's right that you should be prepared...um...ready with a new plan in case everything with Ethan falls apart." She spoke tentatively, as if afraid of my reaction.

Sighing, I nodded. "I agree with that. I just don't think I'll need it."

Her eyes lit up. "Good! I like Ethan. I thought it was really sweet, his coming by the bakery, and I think the very fact that you're this confident is a terrific sign. But just in case, why don't we go through these"-she gestured to the files-"and look for scars that are similar to your drawing? That way, they're ready to go if you need them. You can set up the dates without any ha.s.sle then."

"That works. As long as you promise you won't hesitate if anything changes with Ethan," said Grandma Verda. "I want you and my great-granddaughter to be safe and happy."

"We're on the same side. I want the same things, and I already made that promise to myself." And I'd stick to it. But somehow, even considering an alternative plan felt wrong. Oh. So. Wrong. It was as if I were contemplating cheating-which was ridiculous, given how little Ethan and I had done together, but it still sat inside of me, churning away.

With a heavy swallow, I plopped down in one of my dining room chairs. "Separate them, but make four stacks because Chloe will be here soon."

Grandma nodded and gathered the files together in front of her. She'd just finished creating four even stacks when Chloe arrived. We filled her in, and she scooted into another seat at the end of the table. "So, I'm looking for photos that match the drawing, correct? Nothing else?"

"I think we each need to make three stacks," Elizabeth said. "One for those that are really close in all ways: medium to dark shade of hair, size, and the mark. One for those where the mark is close but maybe other things aren't, yet not enough to be completely ruled out. And then one for those that aren't similar in the slightest."

Before we started, I had scanned the beach drawing into my computer and then printed out four copies, so we'd each have one. After I pa.s.sed them out, we got to it. I counted my stack, and came up with fifteen files. So that meant, altogether, we probably had around sixty possible soul mates sitting on my dining room table. That scared the h.e.l.l out of me, because I couldn't see how that many men could be a close enough match to have warranted my grandmother putting them in a file.

But as I began going through them, my fears calmed. Grandma Verda had, indeed, created a large pool of men...and very few of them were even close. Thank G.o.d for that. Each file consisted of the paperwork the man had completed, along with several photos of his back and one of his face. By the time I finished sorting, I had two Really Close, three Not So Much But Maybe, and the rest were in the No Way in h.e.l.l category.

I shoved the piles away. "Okay, I'm done, but I only have two who are similar enough to even think about."

Chloe tipped her head up, smiled at me, and returned to the few files she had remaining. I watched her, thought about the picture I had of her in my bedroom, and so wanted to get it. Of course I didn't, because it wasn't the right time. I left it alone.

When all was said and done, there were only four men out of the sixty-plus I even had to be concerned with. One of them was Aaron, the auburn-haired man I'd met the day I'd walked in on Grandma. I didn't recognize the other three, and I didn't bother going through the Maybe stacks. If I had to later, they'd be there.

"Now, pa.s.s me all the Nos so I can deal with them." Grandma Verda winked. "Maybe there's a man for Chloe there."

A light pink blush tinged my friend's cheeks. "That's not necessary, Verda. I'm sort of dating someone right now."

"That's okay, dear. You'll have these to look over later, if it doesn't work out."

"Um...Grandma? What are you talking about?" I glanced at Chloe again, and almost laughed at her expression. Hey, she wanted to be a part of a large family, and in my family Grandma Verda's manipulations were part of the package.

A twinkle sparkled in Grandma's blue eyes. "I went to a lot of trouble putting all of these together. It would be nice if someone could use them." She shrugged. "Besides, there's so much information about these men! You'll see their pictures, their medical histories, their resumes, and even how well they did on the IQ tests! What could be better?"

Good grief, the woman should open her own matchmaking service.

Surprisingly, Chloe didn't argue further. I didn't know if that was because she knew arguing with Grandma Verda was pointless, or if the idea intrigued her.

In minutes, Grandma was flipping through the files at breakneck pace, separating them into four distinct piles. Curiosity flared, and while I shouldn't have asked, I couldn't help myself. "Grandma? How are you separating those?"

She laid a hand on the pile farthest to her left. "This is the lemon stack. I wouldn't recommend dating these fellows based on what I see here."

Oh my G.o.d. It was her fruit thing.

She moved her hand to the next pile. "And these are the pears. Not horrible, but not all that good, either. Consider them just below average. But maybe with some work, they could move up the ranks a bit."

I bit my lip to keep from laughing.

On the third pile, she grinned. "These are the oranges. They can go either way. They're usually above average to begin with, but you need to watch them carefully, because they can slip in the other direction. Elizabeth knows all about oranges. Marc was an orange when they married, but ended up being a lemon."

Elizabeth wrinkled her nose but stayed quiet.

Grandma Verda's smiled broadened, and the twinkle in her eyes brightened even more. "And these are the pomegranates. Well, I don't know for sure, so maybe it's better to say they have pomegranate possibilities. I'd have to spend more time with them to be absolutely sure."

"Pomegranate possibilities? I'm probably going to be really sorry for asking this, but how did this fruit thing get started? And how'd you decide that pomegranates were the top-shelf men? What about watermelons? Or Asian pears? Or even strawberries?" I pursed my lips, still fighting off laughter.