Good Luck Page 4

  Magnetious Alexander Flame, the little fairy whose name was bigger than he was. Maggi had only been thirteen when Alli had left, confused and bewildered and not really understanding why the big brother he worshipped wasn’t going to be around anymore. Over the years, Alli had only managed to contact Maggi three times. Each time, Maggi begged Alli to come. That they could leave the Fayte lands together, find somewhere else in Faerie to live. But Maggi was still young and Alli wasn’t about to let him ruin his life.

  The memory of Maggi’s miserable, pleading brown eyes was only making the depression worsen, so Alli cast around for something better to focus on. Surprise, surprise, his thoughts landed on Michael. Alli propped his chin on his hand and sighed. Deep brown eyes shone at him, framing a nose that was a little bit too big for Michael’s face. Michael’s shaggy dark brown hair shone with reddish glints in the light and tended to look like he’d just gotten out of bed, all tousled and fluffy. Michael’s face wasn’t chiseled, or overly masculine, or even all that handsome. But it was a good face, solid and kind, with gentle laugh lines around his eyes and mouth, a hint of roundness to his cheeks. Michael wasn’t very tall, maybe five-ten or eleven, but he was a bit on the stocky side. Nice and muscled, a bit of a barrel chest, wide and strong with the kind of body that Alli just wanted to sink into, cuddle against. Glory, but Michael would make an amazing cuddle buddy. And he looked like the type who would enjoy cuddling. Alli had discovered it was hard at times, to find a guy who liked to snuggle. Of course, he was honest enough to admit that might have to do more with the type of guys he hung with than anything else. One-night stands, by their very definition, didn’t stick around long enough to cuddle.

  Alli realized he was poking at his soggy cereal with the spoon and made himself stop. This really wasn’t productive, sitting around here, daydreaming about a guy who was most likely way out of Alli’s league. If Michael even wanted anything to do with the grumpy, clumsy nerd who owned the local flower shop.

  Of course, the alternative was sitting around here moping. Or, worse yet, ruminating some more on the events of four years ago.

  Despite the fact that Alli’s legs were still shaky, his head still ached, and his muscles protested any sudden movements, Alli threw on some real clothes and headed outside. Okay, so real clothes consisted of holey jeans and ratty sneakers, but it worked. He locked the door behind him, glad that at least it wasn’t raining today.

  It took Alli less than ten minutes to walk the few blocks to downtown Putman and his tiny store. He went around to the side and undid the big deadbolt, hand smacking the wall until he found the switch. The staff room—which was really a pretty stupid name as he was the only staff—looked just like it had when he’d left it, cluttered and cheerful, less of a room and more of an overflow storage area for bags of fertilizer, soil and pots.

  Alli let the door swing shut behind him as he entered the main store, inhaling deeply. The familiar smells of moist earth and flowers comforted him, made some of his aches disappear and his depression lessen. Sunlight streamed weakly through the plate glass windows in front, daylight beginning to wane. Alli snapped on the lights, not wanting to be interrupted later, when it started to get hard to see.

  Alli’s shoulders were itching again. Blast it all. He really, really wanted to toss his shirt into a corner and let his wings loose. But you never knew when someone nosy—otherwise known as Chris Owens—might show up. Putman may have its share of weirdness, but Alli wasn’t quite ready to flaunt himself for his little corner of the world to see.

  Alli bypassed the main counter on his way to the screen door set back in the wall. He opened it, smiling slightly at the sight of his own personal sanctuary.

  He’d had the greenhouse constructed on the back of the building to exact specifications. It wasn’t large, but the humid room contained his babies, plants of every shape and kind.

  With stubborn determination and a good deal of practice, Alli set about losing himself in nature. The three batches of lilies were outgrowing their pots. Alli loved his lilies. Most of the plants he grew were meant for the magical community, lots of herbs and flora useful as spell and amulet components. But some of the pots were just for him, for his enjoyment.

  Alli barely noticed when the light dimmed and the sunshine crept away, his fingers coated with dirt, music humming gently from his stereo. It was only here in the greenhouse that things made sense, that he forgot he was a stranger in a world not his own. Where he forgot that his life was precarious, at best.

  Alli only came back to himself when his stomach let out a loud growl.

  “Shh,” he ordered, putting one hand on his stomach. “I’m busy.”

  Of course, now that he’d been disturbed, other things besides hunger began to make themselves known. Like the slight ache in his head and the way his joints were screaming. Stupid, Alli, he scolded himself. Really, really stupid.

  What had he been thinking, anyway, sitting on the floor? He put his hands flat on the cold wood and pushed himself to his feet, groaning the entire way. There were a few panicked seconds when he wasn’t sure he would make it, either. And wouldn’t that just be the fitting end to a hellish week? Hello, Chris, can you come rescue me? I seem to be glued to the floor. Or even better, I’ve been sitting and I can’t get up.

  Oh, yeah. Chris would just love that. As if people didn’t have enough stories about Alli already.

  Thankfully, he managed to gain his feet with only a few stumbles. He stretched, bones popping back into place. He grimaced and made a couple of faces at the nasty sounds.

  They almost covered up other, equally nasty sounds. Alli’s head whipped around, eyes narrowing as he concentrated. Had that been…?

  Another crash reverberated through the room, this one far, far louder than the first. Alli took an involuntary step backward.

  Then he scowled. He was just jumpy from the headache, that was all. Time to stop being such an idiot.

  Alli strode through the store and back into the staff room—the sounds had come from the side door. Alli grasped the handle and made himself pull it open without hesitating.

  Nothing. The small alley was empty, quiet in the dark night, the flickering streetlight bright enough that he could see the hulking shadows of the dumpster at the end of the alley several hundred feet away.

  Alli sighed, letting the sound leech some of the tension from his shoulders. He wasn’t sure what he had expected to find, but the relief at finding nothing at all was immense.

  “Probably just a stray cat,” he muttered. But he still locked the door behind him, even though it only took him a minute to go back inside and snatch his keys. He couldn’t stop himself from looking around constantly as he walked home. He didn’t relax until he was inside his front hallway, the deadbolt fastened with a satisfying click.

  Alli knew he was most likely jumping at shadows, still riding high on some of the tension from Friday. He kept reiterating that as he made himself a sandwich. His shoulders were itching again, though, and this time with that crawling sensation of being watched.

  It took him a very long time to fall asleep that night. When he finally drifted off, his sleep was restless, interrupted frequently by dark, rough dreams.

  He far preferred the sexy dreams of him and Michael that had been taunting him before, even if those did leave him hot, bothered, and often wet and sticky. At least those were happy dreams. Sort of. They would be much, much happier if he thought he had even the slightest chance of attracting the attention of the new stud in town.

  Chapter Five

  Michael paused on the sidewalk, tipping his head up to study the storefront.

  “Flora. Not the most inventive name ever,” he told a passing bird. Admittedly, the fancy script made the name look more creative.

  Two big picture windows flanked the door. Now Michael tilted his head, studying the jungle inside. The windows were less of a display and more of a glimpse into a wilderness gone amuck. He chuckled and pushed the door open to the gen
tle accompaniment of tinkling bells.

  The smells of dirt and plant life struck his nose. Michael sneezed. Bruce growled happily. Michael had to forcibly stuff his bear back down. It was a fight to keep from shifting—Bruce wanted to wallow.

  A wide concrete lane shot a straight path from the front door to the back of the store, surrounded on all sides by tables overflowing with small potted plants. Narrow aisles wandered around the tables and through pots too big to be lifted. Flora was more of an indoor nursery than a flower shop.

  Good glory, it could take Michael days to find Alli in here. He lifted his nose, sniffed, and followed the trail.

  The man in question had papers spread across the counter in the back. He held the tip of the pencil to his tongue, mouth moving almost imperceptibly as he counted. Today his long hair was neatly pulled back, but chin-length strands had come free around his thin face, choppy bangs falling into his eyes. Michael smiled. The man was just too cute for words.

  Alli looked up, and Michael would swear those gray eyes darkened with pleasure at seeing him. Then Alli scowled. Huh. Must have been wishful thinking.

  “You look better,” Michael said.

  “Michael.” Alli toyed nervously with the pencil. “What are you doing here?”

  “Thought I might pick up a mum,” Michael teased gently.

  “I have some really amazing—”

  “Allegro.” Michael softened his interruption with a little smile. “I mostly wanted to see how you were doing. You were in pretty bad shape the other night.”

  “I wasn’t at my best,” Alli admitted.

  “I don’t think anyone would have been.” Michael leaned on the counter, wanting nothing more at that moment than to settle in for a nice long conversation. “Did Chris or what’s-his-name ever catch the guy?”

  “Mark. And no.”

  “Too bad,” Michael said with true feeling. “If that idiot had hit you…”

  It was Alli’s turn to interrupt. “I’m sure it wasn’t really his fault.”

  Michael blinked. “He almost hit a pedestrian and was going a good thirty miles over the speed limit. How was that not his fault?”

  Allegro shrugged and started chewing on his pencil again.

  They stared at each other—or rather, Michael stared at Alli and Alli stared at the countertop—as the silence grew longer.

  “Well,” Alli finally declared.

  Michael waited.

  “Well what?” he asked after the silence started to drag again.

  “Well…” Alli clearly had to think about it for a second. Then his brow lifted and his face lightened. “Well, you can see I’m fine,” he declared almost triumphantly. “So if there’s nothing else, I have work to do.”

  “Actually,” Michael said. “There is something else. I wanted to ask you to join me for lunch. And suggest a decent place to eat. I haven’t scoped out the restaurants yet.”

  Alli gaped. “You… Oh! Like a friendly neighbor thing. I’m not really the friendly type. Maybe you should go next door. Susan is kind of our unofficial welcoming committee.”

  “Not like a friendly neighbor thing. Like a date.”

  Alli choked.

  Huh. Didn’t that just make a guy feel all smooth and suave?

  Michael rounded the counter to pound helpfully on Alli’s back until Alli was able to suck air into his lungs again.

  “Swallowed the eraser,” Alli finally gasped.

  Michael snorted. “Should I drive you to the hospital again?”

  “No. It’s not the first time.”

  “Sheesh, man.”

  “I should warn you right now,” Alli said seriously. “I’m a walking disaster. Just ask anyone.”

  “I did. And you are.”

  Oh, yeah. He knew all about Allegro Romani. Michael had come to town to do a little shopping at the local Wal-Mart yesterday. Chris had cornered him in sporting goods, next to the fishing equipment. Not that Michael ever used equipment to fish, but you never knew. He still couldn’t figure out how Chris had managed to find him, either, but he was coming to accept that Chris was just as different as this town. During his little shopping expedition, he’d spotted no fewer than three werewolves, a man with the distinctive lack of scent that usually meant vampire, and even managed to surprise two sylphs making out in a corner.

  He was really liking this town.

  Chris hadn’t been the only one to have a little talk with Michael, either. The checkout person at the gas station had somberly informed him Alli was banned from driving within city limits. Two complete strangers had come up to him to share stories of disasters Alli had been either intimately involved in or directly responsible for—it seemed word had spread rapidly about him spending time at Alli’s house. After hearing that news, everyone and their dog wanted to warn Michael about Alli.

  He would have been a lot more pissed off, except he got the idea that they were less concerned about protecting him than they were about protecting Alli. Alli might be their resident klutz and, according to one person, capable of producing more disaster than a nuclear bomb and in less time, too, but no one wanted to see him get hurt. Particularly by the new guy in town.

  Michael hadn’t the slightest intention of hurting Alli, though. Dating the guy, yes. Hurting him? Hell, no. He just hoped he could manage the same consideration from Alli. Not that the shy florist would do it on purpose. Alli just seemed to have an absolute gift for inflicting havoc on anyone in his immediate vicinity.

  “I suppose lunch wouldn’t hurt,” Alli mused, drawing invisible circles on the dark wood counter with one finger.

  Michael resisted the urge to cheer. His first advance in the ‘get to know Alli’ campaign was looking like a success.

  “But it will have to be quick,” Alli continued. “People get cranky if I close for longer than an hour during the day.”

  “Huh. Guess the town really likes their flowers.”

  Alli shrugged. “No, they just like to know where I am. Guess it makes me easier to avoid.”

  Oh, now that wouldn’t do at all, that hint of hurt in Alli’s voice.

  Michael really wanted to fold Alli into a big hug, but figured the guy would run. Then Michael would have to chase him, and Michael really didn’t want to do that. He settled for distraction.

  “So, where are you taking me to eat?” he asked cheerfully.

  “Um, I guess…Emmaline’s? We’ll have to drive, but it has good food. Kind of the town gathering place, too.”

  Now that Michael wasn’t too sure about. He would prefer to get to know Alli without an overly interested audience. He opened his mouth to say that, then shut it again with a slight snap. Maybe the audience would help Alli feel safer. Michael didn’t think he was all that scary, honestly, but Alli was jumpy enough. If he’d be more comfortable in familiar surroundings, Michael wasn’t going to argue. Much. Yet.

  “Sounds good,” Michael agreed. “But I’ll drive.”

  Alli winced. “You’ll have to, since I don’t have a car anymore,” he muttered.

  Michael thought the slight red blush on those pale cheeks was adorable.

  “I know.” According to the local gossips, it had been a spectacular accident. Downed streetlights, exploding fire hydrant, the whole works. Amazingly, no injuries. Just a really big mess. Michael was kind of sorry he’d missed it.

  “Come on, then, I’m hungry.” Michael tugged Alli out from around the counter.

  “Oh, I need… My coat is… I should…”

  Michael ignored the stuttering protests, although he did allow Alli to pull away long enough to grab a windbreaker from the office chair behind the counter. Wouldn’t do for his new boyfriend to get a cold. With Alli’s luck, it would probably turn into pneumonia.

  Emmaline’s was not, contrary to Michael’s imaginings, a local diner. No beehive hairdos, battered Formica tables, or velvet Elvis paintings for this place. Instead, it boasted cozy lighting, a large open floor plan around a central fire pit, and lots of dar
k wooden booths and tables. A coffee bar spit out the most delicious smells from one corner, swinging doors nearby flopping regularly to discharge even more delicious-smelling food. Michael’s stomach growled happily and he couldn’t take his eyes off the plate of vegetable pasta going past. Oh. Smelled like tomatoes and cream and… Oh, yum.

  Michael let his hand slip down to rest on the small of Alli’s back as they followed the hostess to a corner booth. The low buzz of conversation kept dying a bit as they passed, ramping up again behind them.

  The place might not look like a small-town diner, but it certainly acted like it. Michael could practically feel the stares boring into his back. It didn’t really bother him. It took a whole heck of a lot to faze Michael. In fact, he couldn’t wait to introduce the town to his family. Now that was going to be fun.

  It suddenly occurred to Michael that he was thinking of Putman in the long term. Initially, he’d planned on the cabin as a retreat, a place to get away from the family, get some work done in private, go furry whenever the urge struck. He liked it here, though. And Michael had this feeling in his gut that meeting Alli was going to change a lot of things. Michael usually listened to his gut. It was, most often, Bruce trying to tell him something. And Bruce was rarely wrong.

  Michael slid into the booth across from Alli, watching the fascinating expressions flicker across that freckled face. Looking up and realizing he was under scrutiny, Alli blushed again. Michael loved the way the blush covered the freckles, made the smooth complexion almost match the bright hair.

  Heck, everything about the man was bright. Alli wasn’t a big man, a bit shorter than Michael, lean and slender. His hair shone in the light, a dark red with little glinting blond highlights. Eyes an unusual shade of gray overshadowed a delicate face, pert nose, refined features. Michael could just spend hours staring at—

  Oh, damn. That smells marvelous.

  Michael’s nose twitched as he stared in wonder at the attractive arrangement of homemade chips and dip set in the middle of the table. He was probably drooling a bit, too.