Magic, mayhem, mates, and... lasagna. Enjoy this fun and free short story from Charlie Cochet.
**Previously published under the title A Caller from Windermere as part of the Heart2Heart: A Charity Anthology, Volume 4. The charity anthology was a limited release and is no longer available.
So many boxes ticked, so few pages, so many laughs, so much chemistry . . .
Magic✅
Shifters✅
Bodyguard/Guarded✅
Best Friend's Brother/Brother's Best Friend✅
Fated Mates✅
Humor✅
Mayhem✅
Chemistry✅
. . . plainly put: entertained to the max! What I wouldn't give to have further adventures in yet another of Charlie Cochet's brilliantly created universes.
RATING:
Author Bio:
Charlie Cochet is the international bestselling author of the THIRDS series. Born in Cuba and raised in the US, Charlie enjoys the best of both worlds, from her daily Cuban latte to her passion for classic rock.
Currently residing in Central Florida, Charlie is at the beck and call of a rascally Doxiepoo bent on world domination. When she isn’t writing, she can usually be found devouring a book, releasing her creativity through art, or binge watching a new TV series. She runs on coffee, thrives on music, and loves to hear from readers.
One
“I can’t believe I’m doing this.”
Salem paced from one end of his yard to the other, cell phone pressed to his ear as he wiped the sweat from his brow— sweat that had nothing to do with the Florida weather attempting to bake him. Despite the magnolia trees planted around his yard, it was still eighty-five degrees with ninety percent humidity in the shade. Yet nothing was more stifling and uncomfortable than the reminder that had popped up on his calendar half an hour ago, prompting this sudden bout of desperation.
“It’s not that I don’t love them, I do. They’re my family, but Goddess above, I can’t do this again!” Was he really about to pour his heart out to a voicemail? “It’s fine. I mean, not really, but most of the time it’s fine. No, it’s fine. I’m fine. Not a big deal. I don’t even know why I called.” Oh Goddess, he was going to hyperventilate. Breathe. Just breathe.
“I mean, you probably have listeners calling in with real problems, right? And you’re like, ‘This dude is calling in with his daddy issues? That’s sad.’ I know. It is sad, and don’t get me wrong, I love my dad, but when your father is one of the most powerful mages around, and you’re… me, it sucks. And not in a good way. Shit, can I say that on here? Shit! Can I say shit?” Salem groaned and dropped down onto the comfy chaise lounge where he spent hours daydreaming rather than reading the book he’d intended to read.
“Every year I sit there pretending not to notice my family’s pitying glances or the way my dad acts like I’m not the biggest disappointment of his life. Then there’s the questions, followed by appetizers and more pity, a lovely dinner of chicken or fish before dessert and a light side of patronizing, and at the end of the night, the elders take turns patting my head or ruffling my hair and assuring me I’ll grow out of it. I’m two hundred years old! There’s no growing out of it.” Ugh, why was he so pitiful?
“If that wasn’t bad enough, everyone will ask me if I’ve found my mate, knowing I haven’t, because if I had, everyone in existence would know— even my ancestors would know because my mother would make sure of it. I’m the only one in my family who doesn’t have a mate, but that’s probably a good thing, right? I mean, who wants to be tied to a mage who’s only capable of conjuring up lasagna? Yeah, you heard that correctly. Lasagna. My nickname in high school was Garfield. That’s right. I’ve been a hot mess from the moment I could walk.” He let out a heavy sigh.
“There’s no way any person in their right mind would want to be stuck with me. I mean, how embarrassing would that be? ‘Hey, this is Salem, my mate. Yep, he’s a mage. Nope, he can’t manipulate the elements, but he makes a mean lasagna!’ With my luck, my mate will be lactose intolerant. I just wish… I wish someone would love me for me.” He fell back onto the chair, eyes lifting to the clear blue sky. “Anyway, thanks for listening. I’m sorry for wasting your time.” Salem hung up the phone and closed his eyes, letting the peaceful quiet of a beautiful spring day wash over him.
Calling the podcast made him feel a little better. Maybe he’d needed to vent. The popular new show was run by a couple of mysterious guys who’d quickly earned themselves a huge following. No one knew whether there was any real magic behind it, but there’d been rumors of wishes coming true for callers. It wasn’t like he believed his wish would come true, because let’s face it, that was a tall order. He should have come into his powers when he hit puberty, but nope. Well, he had come into his powers; his powers were just… an embarrassment. Time to face the hard truth. He’d never find his mate.
“Found you.”
“Merlin’s pants!” Salem gave such a start he fell off the lounge chair and hit the cool, crisp grass.
“Shit, Salem. Are you okay?” Izzie’s huge form looming over Salem blocked out the sun.
“Yep, um, looking for my phone. I dropped it. Found it!” Salem let Izzie help him to his feet. He waved the phone at Izzie in case he doubted Salem’s retrieval skills. “See?”
Izzie’s lips quirked up in the corner. “I see.”
“I guess you’re here to pick me up. What am I saying? Of course you are. Why else would you be here?” He really needed to get over his crush on his big brother’s best friend. Not an easy feat, especially when Izzie looked at him with those intense near-black eyes, like he could see right through Salem and unearth his deepest, darkest secrets. Not that Salem had any deep, dark secrets, other than his crush on Izzie. Even if Izzie weren’t Hugo’s best friend, he’d still be off-limits. Salem’s father had several bodyguards on staff for the family, and over the years, Izzie had quickly become one of their most loyal and trusted.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Izzie asked, his voice gentle as he placed his fingers under Salem’s chin and lifted his face so their eyes could meet.
Salem melted a little. Despite Izzie’s size and gruff exterior, he’d always been so gentle with Salem. Boy, was he handsome. All six and a half feet of him. From his chiseled, dark-stubbled jaw, thick eyebrows, and ruffled chestnut-colored hair with the sexy silver streak on one side, to his tanned skin and firm muscles.
“Salem?”
“Hm?” Snickerdoodles! Izzie had been talking to him, and Salem hadn’t heard a word. Smooth. But then that was Salem in a nutshell.
The amusement that lit up Izzie’s eyes and the way his full lips tugged up at the corners had Salem’s pulse jumping all over the place.
“I was saying that we should go.” Izzie released him, and with a groan, Salem let his head fall against Izzie’s chest.
“Do we have to?”
“It’s going to be okay.” He patted Salem’s back, then rubbed his hand in a circle, which helped Salem breathe a little better.
“Stay with me?”
Izzie stiffened beneath him, and Salem took a step back to gaze up at him, confused by Izzie’s startled expression.
“What?” Izzie murmured, sounding a little breathless.
Maybe the humidity was getting to him. It was like a sauna out here, without the benefit of being naked. Really? Because being naked was clearly something he should be thinking about while standing this close to Izzie.
Salem cleared his throat. “At the party. Will you stay with me? My family tends to give me less shit when you’re around.” They might be powerful mages, but they respected Izzie. Also, all Izzie had to do was narrow his eyes and everyone around him pretty much got gone. Except for Salem. He’d never been intimidated by Izzie.
“Of course. Ganon assigned me to you for today’s event.”
Salem frowned at that. “Me? Why would my dad assign you to me? I’m going to be the least important person there.” He headed toward the house with Izzie at his side.
“That’s not true.”
Salem wrinkled his nose as he pulled open the sliding glass door. Ah, glorious air-conditioning. “That’s sweet of you to say.”
Izzie stepped inside, a deep frown on his face. He opened his mouth to say something, probably attempt to placate him, but Salem didn’t want to hear it. He was all too familiar with his place in the family hierarchy.
“It’s fine. No big deal. Really.” He turned to go, but Izzie took hold of his arm.
“Salem, you’re—” Izzie’s phone went off, both of them recognizing his father’s ringtone. With a sigh, Izzie released Salem. “This conversation isn’t over.”
As far as Salem was concerned, it was. The last person he needed platitudes or pity from was Izzie. It would hurt too much. Which was stupid, since they were nothing to each other and that wasn’t going to change. While Izzie answered the call and spoke to Ganon, Salem locked up the house and headed for the car, Izzie close behind, speaking quietly into his phone.
Time to get this over with. At least he’d get to spend some time with Izzie before he returned home, alone, to binge-watch his favorite show and drown his sorrows in several pints of Chunky Monkey. This was his life. He should resign himself to that pitiful fact, and yet the flicker of hope that he was meant for more continued to burn in his stubborn heart, refusing to be extinguished. One of these days, he’d either change his life or extinguish all hope that things would change. For good.
Charlie Cochet is the international bestselling author of the THIRDS series. Born in Cuba and raised in the US, Charlie enjoys the best of both worlds, from her daily Cuban latte to her passion for classic rock.
Currently residing in Central Florida, Charlie is at the beck and call of a rascally Doxiepoo bent on world domination. When she isn’t writing, she can usually be found devouring a book, releasing her creativity through art, or binge watching a new TV series. She runs on coffee, thrives on music, and loves to hear from readers.
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