Broomstick Breakdown

The magic powering her broom coughed and sputtered. Sophia held on tight as she lost altitude and weaved drunkenly through the night sky.

“You’ve got to be freaking kidding me,” she muttered aloud. Apparently spelling a broom while frazzled and rushed had unwanted side effects. Like becoming intimately acquainted with the ground. Oops.

She fought with the roughening antics of her broom, its wooden handle jerking between her hands. As she cursed her bad luck in language not fit for human ears, she spotted the lights of a gas station easily visible in the dark and aimed herself at it for an emergency landing. She also prayed to the Dark Lord—“No road rash. No road rash.” She’d taken weeks to heal the raw patches the last time she’d crashed her broom. A natural broom flyer she was not, and she’d put in a request for the rare and popular Ali Baba book of spells. Somehow carpet flying sounded a lot safer than the traditional witchy method of travel.

The ground came up to meet her and with one last quick prayer, she used her feet to slow her momentum, stumbling several feet before she came to a halt on the pavement. I didn’t crash. Yay! Sophia swung off her broom and glared at it, the problem easily evident. Most of the bristles had fallen out, along with the magic that imbued them with flight.

Shoot. Now, how am I supposed to get to the All Hallows’ Eve Convention on time? She was still staring at her only means of transportation in consternation when a man came out of the garage and into the pool of light surrounding the gas pumps where she’d landed. He rubbed his hands on a rag, and the corded muscles of his arms gleamed with sweat even though the air was somewhat cool.

Any other time, she would have taken the time to admire the way the fabric of his dark T-shirt stretched across an impossibly wide chest and clearly delineated a mountainous amount of muscle. If her concern over being late had not overshadowed all thought, she would have also noticed the way his well-worn jeans clung snugly to his groin and thickly muscled thighs. Oh, who was she kidding, even in the midst of a calamity, she couldn’t help but notice how hot the mechanic was with his tanned skin, ruffled dark hair, and strutting walk. Any other time, she would have enjoyed playing the damsel in distress, a routine that involved the shedding of clothes and inhibitions, but she had an appointment to keep, and while lateness ran in her blood, the senior witches of her coven frowned—with rather unpleasant results—on junior witches who couldn’t show up on time.

Most people under the glare of fluorescent lights looked sickly. Not this babe, though. Vivid eyes peered at her from under dark brows, and the hunky stranger’s full lips twitched as he gave her the once-over, a look that made her nipples tighten in response and moisture soften her cleft.

As she cleared her throat and blushed under his frank perusal, she drew her plump self up, all of her five-foot two inches, and in a voice that emerged squeakier than intended said, “Um, hi there.” Although she might be a witch of questionable morals, a witty conversationalist she was not.

Brilliant white teeth gleamed as he grinned at her, and a deep dimple formed in his left cheek that sent her awakening libido into full sexual crush mode and dampened her panties even further. Damn, pity I can’t bottle him, because I’d make a fortune—after I’d enjoyed him first of course. Her dirty thoughts made her blush even deeper, and she thanked the Dark Lord that the man couldn’t read her mind even if her body seemed unable to stop betraying her.

“Hello.” His deep voice rumbled pleasantly, and Sophia fought an urge to shiver—and to throw herself at him, begging him to whisper naughty nothings with his sexy voice. She didn’t understand her body’s out-of-proportion reaction to this stud. Sure, he was hotter than molten lava, but since when did her hormones drool and scream at her to maul a stranger on sight? She usually required a drink and dinner first at the very least.

She ignored how her body tingled and vibrated and got straight to the point. “Do you have a broom I could borrow by any chance?”

He cocked an eyebrow at her, and one corner of his mouth turned up in a lopsided grin. “A broom? Feeling a sudden urge to clean?”