Free A Celtic Witch (A Modern Witch Series: Book 6) by Debora Geary Page A

forget.”  The Irish were not big on locks and keys.
    “Then you’ll be right at home here.”  Aaron came around the desk and picked up her bag.  “Your room’s on the second floor.  It’s one of our smaller ones, but very cozy, and the best view in the house.”  He headed up the stairs.  “And it’s right above the desk here, so I might catch a few notes if you decide to do some practicing.”
    He meant it.  No stars in his eyes—just easy appreciation.  The kind of fan she found in Margaree and not nearly often enough anywhere else.  “That sounds perfect, thanks.”
    His smile was growing on her already.  “There’s nobody else here right now and we live in the cottage beside the inn, so feel free to play at whatever hours move you.”  He took the stairs two at a time, just like her brother Rory. 
    Cass picked up Rosie and followed him.  “I might take you up on that—I’m a bit of a night owl.”
    He turned around on the top landing, eyes twinkling.  “Well, you might find my wife or me wandering around then too.  One or the other of our twins is often up in the wee hours.” 
    She never minded company.  “If you’d enjoy it, I’ll bring my fiddle down to the kitchen later.”
    The quick pleasure in his eyes told her what she needed to know.  She’d be spending a lot of time in the kitchen. 
    It wouldn’t be a hardship.
    She stepped through the door of the room he indicated and realized that it wouldn’t be a hardship either.  Fluffy white sheets and colorful hand-knit throws pulled her, body and soul, toward a bed that was a tired musician’s dream.
    Comfortable furnishings, bright splashes of color and old photographs on the walls, and a squishy round rug under her feet.  “Oooh.”  She turned back to Aaron.  “I’ll be staying a few more days than however long I told you.”
    She hadn’t said, and they both knew it.  But she knew her innkeepers—he’d hear it as the compliment she meant it to be.
    He grinned and backed out of the room.  “You wouldn’t be the first.  There’s food, fire, and curious villagers downstairs any time you want.”
    She laughed.  And, indulging her inner six-year-old girl, made a leap for the bed. 
    The landing was as soft as she imagined.
    Relaxation in full progress.  The man in the teal sweater and the rocks that thought he might be hers would just have to wait.
    She had a nap to take.
    -o0o-
    For the first time in months, Marcus had no idea what to do with himself.
    And a slightly crazed need to do something .  He’d grown used to his nice, predictable days.  Ones that didn’t involve strangers with green eyes and a mental signature that was still haunting his head.
    He glared at his daughter, sound asleep in the corner.  Abandoned in his time of need.
    And then his brain caught up with its own ridiculousness.  Morgan was fed and sleeping and his house was mysteriously empty of visitors, swarming children, or little old ladies looking for a cup of sugar or the latest gossip.
    A miracle of major proportions.
    Tiptoeing a tad belatedly, he made his way over to his easy chair and settled in with a very satisfied sigh.  Peace.  Silence and a new library book.
    And an enormous, flashing icon on his laptop screen.  A neon-pink one.
    Marcus groaned—very quietly.  It had clearly been too good to be true.  He leaned over and squinted at the flashing pink.  Urgent!  Duel Issued!
    He hadn’t visited Realm in months.  Gaming was not designed for people with mobile babies.  In the time it would take him to plan a decent invasion, Morgan could probably eat half the plant life in Fisher’s Cove.
    He typed a quick reply.  Go away.
    Ginia’s preteen grin popped up on his chat screen.  “Can’t.  I need you.”
    He hastily turned down the volume.  “I don’t have time for duels, Warrior Girl.”  Especially ones with the world’s best ten-year-old programmer.  “Isn’t there anyone else left for you to pick