Randall Wise is the quintessential good guy. However, all of his friends are married and he's still single. Rand is positive that good guys finish last at love and decides he needs to change if he's ever going to find a woman of his own.
Brenna Thorne is a klutzy but cute would-be witch who moves in next door to Rand. Men always think of Brenna like a sister. They never see her as girlfriend or mate material. Brenna longs for a man of her own who sees her sexy side and all the love she has to give.
A little magic from Rand's godparents, a familiar who isn't a familiar, and a host of well-meaning but surprising friends help Rand and Brenna see that all you need to find your mate is a heart that is open to love.
“Come in,” she said pulling the door wider. “I thought you were bringing dinner?”
Rand blinked dazedly as his gaze shifted from her breasts to the kitchen. “I am.” He looked around, focused on the center island, and snapped his fingers. Everything from wine glasses to bread appeared. The smell of freshly baked lasagna filled the room.
“Oh, wow. When you make dinner, you go all out,” she murmured, walking over to peer into a bowl. “Yummy. I love Caesar salad. Is the bred garlicky?”
Rand laughed. “Yes, but I’ll admit to using a spell on the spread so it doesn’t leave you with garlic breath.”
Brenna’s brows rose. That was a promising remark, she thought. “You must be a mage,” she said as she began to set the table.
“Not yet, although I did inherit my father’s mage class powers. I’m still only wizard class,” he admitted. “I can transport an item from one place to another, but only if I know where I’m transporting it to and from. I can’t make things disappear into the void, and I won’t have the ability to transport myself or transfigure until I reach mage class.”
Rand set out the food and wine then seated Brenna. They sat at right angles and all through dinner she could feel the press of his jean-clad knee against her bare one. She was glad she hadn’t opted for dressier clothes. Rand wore dark jeans and a blue silk shirt that made his eyes look more silvery. He was so handsome, and the brush of his knee against hers so distracting, she could barely concentrate on his words. He told some amusing tales about his friends, a story about his childhood, and something about being the best man at a recent wedding. However, the wedding anecdote trailed off after he said he’d had too much to drink.
They cleaned up together companionably, Brenna telling Rand about her occult shop and quirky customers. As they washed the dishes and put the leftovers away, their fingers, hands, and hips brushed often. By the time Rand snapped his fingers to send his dishes home, Brenna’s pussy ached for him.
He held up her nearly empty glass of wine. “More? This bottle is toast, but I have more.”
The pitch of his voice, low and seductive, sent shivers through Brenna’s already over-stimulated body. She shook her head. “I think I’ve had enough.”
Rand’s eyes gleamed. “Does that mean you’re drunk?”
“Not drunk, but pleasantly relaxed,” she replied, boldly reaching out to brush her fingertips over the cuff of his shirt. “Are you going to take advantage of me now, or did you want to watch a movie?”
The gleam in Rand’s eyes became a flame. He slipped an arm around her waist, pulling her against him. The instant her breasts touched his hard chest, Brenna became mindless with lust. An earth-shattering need swamped her body, making her tremble.
Rand’s fingers cupped her chin. “You’re shaking,” he murmured, his dark head lowering to hers.
“With need,” she whispered. “I want you, Rand.”
His eyes flared brighter. Brenna didn’t know how or why this had happened, but the moment she’d seen him naked the night before, she had wanted him. That deep-seated desire must have been what fueled her dream, too. Now, her mind was consumed with ripping his clothes off and rubbing herself all over him, as if by doing so she could mark him with her scent. She knew she hadn’t ever felt this strongly about a man so quickly, and wondered briefly why this man, but then he slid his hands under her skirt, cupping her ass, and all rational thought went out the window.