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  Easy Magic

  Book Five in the Boudreaux Series

  By

  Kristen Proby

  EASY MAGIC

  Book Five in The Boudreaux Series

  Kristen Proby

  Copyright © 2017 by Kristen Proby

  All Rights Reserved. This book may not be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission from the author. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. All characters and storylines are the property of the author and your support and respect is appreciated. The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

  Cover Art:

  Photography by: Sara Eirew Photographer

  Cover Design: Okay Creations

  ISBN 978-1-63350-023-5

  For Christine.

  I love you to the moon and back.

  About the Author

  New York Times and USA Today Bestselling Author Kristen Proby is the author of the popular With Me in Seattle series. She has a passion for a good love story and strong characters who love humor and have a strong sense of loyalty and family. Her men are the alpha type—fiercely protective and a bit bossy—and her ladies are fun, strong, and not afraid to stand up for themselves. Kristen spends her days with her muse in the Pacific Northwest. She enjoys coffee, chocolate, and sunshine. And naps. Visit her at KristenProby.com.

  Website

  Facebook

  Twitter

  Goodreads

  Other Books by Kristen Proby

  The Boudreaux Series:

  Easy Love and on audio

  Easy Charm and on audio

  Easy Melody and on audio

  Easy for Keeps

  The With Me In Seattle Series:

  Come Away With Me and on audio

  Under the Mistletoe With Me and on audio

  Fight With Me and on audio

  Play With Me and on audio

  Rock With Me and on audio

  Safe With Me and on audio

  Tied With Me and on audio

  Breathe With Me and on audio

  Forever With Me and on audio

  Easy With You and on audio

  The Fusion Series

  Listen To Me and on audio

  Close To You

  Blush For Me (click for preorder)

  The Love Under the Big Sky Series, available through Pocket Books:

  Loving Cara and on audio

  Seducing Lauren and on audio

  Falling for Jillian and on audio

  Baby, It’s Cold Outside and on audio

  An Anthology with Jennifer Probst, Emma Chase, Kristen Proby, Melody Anne and Kate Meader

  Table of Contents

  About the Author

  Other Books by Kristen Proby

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Epilogue

  Excerpt from Blush For Me

  Other Books by Kristen Proby

  Prologue

  ~Mallory~

  No one should have to say goodbye to their grandmother at sixteen years old. Especially when it’s a forever goodbye.

  And definitely not when that grandmother is the only parent this sixteen-year-old has ever known.

  “Stop being so sad, child,” she says, her voice coming as a whisper. She’s lying in her big, soft bed, her long salt and pepper hair fanned out around her in a pretty halo. I used to love to brush her hair and braid it, over and over again. I get my thick hair from her.

  Along with the ability to see dead people and read minds.

  “How can you say that?” I ask and wipe a tear from my cheek. “I know what’s happening. I’m not a baby.”

  “No,” she says with a weak smile and cups my cheek in her frail hand. Why is she so frail? My grandmamma is the strongest woman I know! “You’re not a baby, even though I sometimes wonder where the time has gone.”

  “I can’t do this,” I whisper and lay my head on her chest. “You can’t leave me.”

  “Oh, sugar.” She sighs and gently pushes her fingers through my hair, brushing it off of my face. “I won’t be far, you know. I’ll be here, to talk with you, to guide you.”

  “I can’t do magic,” I insist.

  “Opening yourself up to me is not magic, cher.”

  “I don’t want any part of this,” I reply and burrow my face deeper in the covers, feeling her weak heartbeat. “It’s taking you from me.”

  “And I’m sorry for that. I truly am. You’ve had more loss in your young life than anyone should have to bear.” She pauses to catch her breath. I hate that she’s so weak. “I’m not leaving you here alone. You have Lena and her grandmother, and they love you like family.”

  “I know,” I reply and let a tear fall into the blankets. “But it’s not the same.”

  “No.” She continues to gently push her fingers through my hair. “It’s not the same. Not enough. But they are here for you, always.”

  Lena has been my best friend for as long as I can remember. Her grandmother, Sophia, and mine have been best friends since they were small girls as well. The four of us have been close, the only family the other has.

  “How am I supposed to do this without you?” I whisper. “You’re the one who understands how different I am. No one loves me like you do.”

  “And no one ever will, sugar. Not exactly like me. But someone will love you. Understand you. You just have to wait a while for him.”

  I roll my eyes. My grandmother may be a powerful psychic and witch, but she’s also an incurable romantic.

  God, I’m going to miss her.

  “I just need you,” I insist.

  “I’ll be here,” she says again, but I shake my head. “I know you’re afraid of what you can do.”

  “I’m not afraid. I hate it.”

  “You won’t always, love. Look at me.”

  I raise my head to look into her deep brown eyes. She looks so tired.

  “People are always afraid of what they don’t understand. You’ll learn. You have such a gift, Mallory. You can help people.”

  “You helped people and it’s killing you.”

  “And that was my choice,” she replies and smiles again. “And the outcome was worth it. That little girl was returned to her family.”

  “And the killer—” I can’t even finish the sentence.

  “Will get what’s coming to him,” she insists, but the fear is there at the edge of her voice. He found his way into her head, and did so much damage, she’s dying.

  I will never do this.

  “I love you, sweet girl. You have brought more to my life than I can ever say.” She cups my cheek again. “You are wonderful. And I know you don’t want it, but your gift is there all the same. Sophia will teach you, and if you’ll just open yourself up, you’ll see me. I’ll be here.”

  I can’t do it!

  “I love you, too,” I reply and watch as she finally closes her eyes and sighs deeply. I’m so selfish. She’s tired, and she’s hanging on because I can’t let go.

  Oh, how I don’t want to let go.


  I can’t take my eyes off of her. I don’t want to miss even one breath, one flutter of her eyelashes. Her eyes open one last time and focus on me. She smiles.

  “I’ll see you soon.”

  Chapter One

  ~Mallory~

  “I’m sorry I’m late!” I rush into Miss Sophia’s house, toss my handbag on the new couch that Lena and I talked her into buying, and hurry to the kitchen. I was supposed to be here a half hour ago for dinner with them both. “I got caught up at the shop.”

  “It’s just jambalaya,” Miss Sophia replies with a smile. I swear, she hasn’t changed a bit since I was a child. Her light blonde hair has no hint of grey in it. Her face is free of lines, except for the few around her eyes from smiling, and she has more energy than Lena and I put together. “It’ll keep on the stove until we’re ready for it.”

  “Were you busy today?” Lena asks and takes a bite of cornbread. She’s leaning against the kitchen counter, still dressed in her work uniform of a tight black pencil skirt and red silk top tucked in, showing off her waistline. She’s fair-haired, just like her grandmamma, with bright blue eyes and the prettiest heart-shaped lips I’ve ever seen.

  “There better be some of that left for me.” I tug the red napkin covering the bowl of cornbread aside and sigh in delight at the sight of the deliciousness. “Oh, thank God.”

  “This is my first piece,” she says and takes another bite.

  “I got delayed at the shop with Charly Boudreaux,” I say, finally answering Lena’s question. “She ordered some essential oils and stopped by after she closed her shop to pick them up.”

  “The Boudreauxes are good people,” Miss Sophia says as she ladles our bowls of jambalaya.

  “You know them?” I ask, surprised. “You’ve never said anything.”

  I haven’t known Charly and her sister-in-law Kate long, but I like what I know. I met them at Charly’s shoe shop, Head Over Heels, a few months ago. Since then, we’ve had a couple lunches and one fun happy hour outing with Savannah, Charly’s sister. There are a lot of the Boudreauxes.

  “Their family has been here as long as yours and mine,” Miss Sophia says and passes the steaming bowls to us. “Rich as Midas, but not showy with it.”

  “Well, that we know,” Lena says. “Everyone in Louisiana knows that.”

  “I went to school with Mrs. Boudreaux’s oldest sister. Sweet woman. Lost touch over the years, and she moved to Florida, I believe. All I’m saying is they seem like good, hard working people.”

  “Well, that seems to be true,” I reply with a nod. “Charly puts in long hours at her shop.”

  “It’s good to see you make a friend,” Miss Sophia says, but Lena just watches me, speculation in her eyes.

  “We’re two businesswomen trying to make a go of it in the Quarter,” I reply with a shrug. Lena isn’t a jealous woman, but she’s a very protective one when it comes to me. And it works both ways. You’re not raised by known psychics and witches and not get bullied growing up. “You’ll have to join us for lunch next time.”

  “I’d like that,” Lena says. “Speaking of lunches, the principal asked me out on a date today.”

  Miss Sophia and I look at each other, then at Lena. “What did you say?” I ask.

  “No, of course,” she says and frowns. “I’m a teacher at his school. Of course I’m not going to date him.”

  “Was he inappropriate with you?” Miss Sophia asks.

  “No, he just asked, and I declined.”

  “I know someone you might want to date,” I say, Charly’s brother Beau immediately coming to mind. “He’s a Boudreaux.”

  “I’m not interested in dating.”

  “You went on a date on Saturday,” I remind her in exasperation. Lena dates more than anyone else I know.

  “Yes, and that one date made me realize that I’m done with it.” She takes a sip of sweet tea and shrugs her petite shoulders again. Lena’s thin, just like her grandmother.

  “He’s not ready for you,” Sophia says to Lena, who just rolls her eyes and looks at me with desperate eyes. Help.

  “You don’t have to date if you don’t want to,” I say reasonably. “What was it about Mr. Saturday Night that turned you off of the male species as a whole?”

  “Nothing in particular. He was nice enough, but I’m tired of meeting men who are just nice enough. Nothing ever comes of it, and frankly, it’s beginning to feel like a waste of good lipstick and shaved legs.”

  “Well, if you change your mind, Beau Boudreaux seems like a nice guy.” I keep my eyes trained on my dinner.

  “You touched him?” Miss Sophia asks casually.

  “I shook his hand.”

  There’s a moment of silence, but I stay quiet, eating my dinner.

  “Oh, come on, Mal.” Lena drops her spoon in her bowl. “And?”

  “And what?”

  “You’re so damn stubborn. You feel things, even when you don’t want to.”

  Which is why I avoid touching people.

  “Wishing you didn’t have your gifts doesn’t make them go away,” Miss Sophia reminds me gently.

  “I know, and I stopped avoiding them long ago.” I purse my lips. “I see the dead. Not all the time, but enough. It doesn’t scare me. And yes, I’m an empath, so I get feelings about people when I touch them.”

  “And what feeling did you get about Beau?” Lena asks, leaning in like I’m about to tell her state secrets.

  “Not much,” I admit, still perplexed at the lack of emotion I was able to pick up from him. “But I know he’s smart. Not a lot of grey area with him, so similar to you in that respect. And I didn’t have to touch him to know that he’s a bit uptight and has a stick up his ass a lot of the time.”

  “Oh, yes, please let me date him,” Lena says dryly.

  “But I didn’t feel anything when I touched him.” My voice is soft, as it still takes me by surprise when I think of it.

  “Nothing?” Lena demands, her eyes wide, as she raises her spoon to take a bite.

  I do the same, thinking back on it. “There was no wave of emotion or memories. It was just…calm.”

  “Interesting,” Lena says, a frown between her eyebrows. “That’s unusual.”

  You have no idea.

  “Beau isn’t for Lena,” Miss Sophia says confidently and sits back in her chair, finished with her dinner.

  “If you’re so sure about who is for me, why don’t you clue me in?” Lena demands.

  “Because neither of you is ready,” Miss Sophia replies. “You’ll figure it out eventually.”

  Lena sighs deeply. “Maybe Beau is going to be important in your life because he’s meant for you.”

  I stare at Lena, blinking slowly, then tuck my hair behind my ear and shake my head. “No. He’s not for me.”

  Miss Sophia doesn’t say anything at all. She just sips her sweet tea and watches me with that knowing gaze that’s always driven me nuts. Because behind those shrewd eyes is a woman who sees more than anyone I know. Too much, sometimes.

  “He’s not.”

  “Okay.” She smiles and Lena lets out a loud laugh.

  “I have to meet him.”

  “You want me to set you up after all?”

  “No.” She shakes her head. “So I can see the man who’s going to give you a run for your money.”

  “How did we get here?” I stare at the two women I love more than anything, completely frustrated. “I already said he’s not for me.”

  “If you say so,” Lena says, but Miss Sophia is still silent, just watching me with those knowing blue eyes, smiling softly.

  “Do you have any idea how frustrating it is to have a witch in the family?” I demand, staring at Miss Sophia, who just smiles wider, still sipping her tea.

  “I know many things,” she replies, then breaks out into a belly laugh when Lena and I just glare at her. “I’m turning it off now, girls.”

  Miss Sophia’s psychic abilities are strong, much stronger tha
n mine, but her gift is in magic. She and Lena make it look like an art form.

  The three of us are members of a very exclusive club. One that most people don’t understand. Instead, when they learn what we are, they come at us with two things.

  Fear.

  Hate.

  So we’re quiet, keep to ourselves, and live our lives.

  ***

  I get home around nine from dinner with Miss Sophia and Lena. It’s been a long day. The shop was busy today, and I’m thankful. I’m making a good living at selling essential oils, herbs, lotions, and soaps. My style is whimsical and fun, perfect for tourists wandering through the French Quarter and locals alike. For so long I was just treading water, barely able to make enough to pay the bills, and have enough left over to pay myself as well.

  But this past year has been fruitful, and not only can I do all those things, but I’ve hired a part-time helper as well so I can take a day or two off here and there.

  I have dinner with Lena and Miss Sophia as often as our schedules allow, and one weekend a month we go to my grandmother’s house in the Bayou to relax and craft. I wasn’t able to join them for a while, but now that Shelly is working for me, I’ve been going again, and I love it.

  I enjoy feeling close to Grandmamma. I don’t see her. Ever. Sometimes, as I’m waking from a dream, I can just barely hear her voice, but I haven’t seen her since the day she died.

  And it frustrates me. Makes me sad.

  I miss her.

  I shake my head and shrug off the blue mood, shuffling through my mail. Nothing catches my interest so I toss the envelopes on the kitchen table and kick out of my boots, my jeans, and wander to the fridge to pour a glass of white wine.

  I opened it last night.

  It’ll be gone by tomorrow night.

  The wine is crisp and dry and perfect. I carry the glass into the living room and sit on the couch, pulling my legs up under me.

  I feel restless. Should I watch TV? I take a sip and wrinkle my nose. Nah.

  Read a book?

  Maybe.