A Charmed Life (Coven Corner #3) Read online

  A CHARMED LIFE

  Coven Corner: Book #3

  by

  Charlotte French

  Copyright © 2018 by Charlotte French.

  All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This ebook is for your personal reading only. It may not be sold again or given away to other people. If you desire to share this book with someone else, please purchase another copy for each recipient.

  If you are reading this book and you did not purchase it, please purchase your own copy at major ebook retailers.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations and incidents are the product of the author’s creation. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

  BOOKS BY CHARLOTTE FRENCH

  Sugar and Spice

  COVEN CORNER SERIES

  Jinxed (Book #1)

  Spelled Kiss (Book #2)

  A Charmed Life (Book #3)

  Coven Corner Series Boxset

  ANTHOLOGIES & SHORT STORIES

  Only For Her

  Sacred & Profane

  Symphony Amore

  BOOKS BY CHARLOTTE FRENCH

  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

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR

  BOOKS BY CHARLOTTE FRENCH

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  CHAPTER ONE

  The open house at Windywings was always chaos. But Hazel liked it. She loved meeting the families, talking with the parents of her students and getting to know new kids who would be joining her classes when school started next week.

  Sky was there, serving tea from her Boiled and Brewed booth. A quaint amethyst ring sparkled on her finger. It had been no surprise when Sky had accepted Aiden’s proposal last year. Hazel had seen it coming the moment Sky and Aiden set eyes on each other.

  Bryony was there as well, with Sean in tow. They still pestered each other with little biting kisses and a gleam of competitive edge in their eyes.

  Bryony was showing a group of young potential students how to conjure a mushroom from a pot of dirt without a single spore to help it along. She was brilliant at earth magic and Hazel was thrilled that Bryony decided to sign on at Windywings as a full-time teacher.

  Sean placed his hand at the small of Bryony’s back and rested his cheek atop her head. He closed his eyes with a soft smile, looking as if there was nowhere else he’d rather be than by her side.

  A pinch settled in Hazel’s stomach and she turned away. She had always thrown herself into her work and she rarely had time for a serious relationship. But she still caught herself pining for romance at the most inopportune and inconvenient moments.

  Someone cleared their throat. Hazel glanced up from her clipboard to see a man standing before her with a little girl at his side. He wore a plain gray t-shirt that clung to his broad shoulders well. The little girl had long dark hair and striking blue eyes. She glared at Hazel from beneath the wide brim of a witch’s hat.

  “Are you Hazel Aven?” the man said.

  “Yes. What can I do for you?”

  “I’m Nick Butler. This is my daughter, Phoebe. I’d like to enroll her for the school year.”

  “Of course. We’d be happy to have you. Just fill out this paperwork and bring it back on the first day of school. That would be next Monday.”

  She handed over a stack of papers.

  “Great,” Nick replied. “Phoebe and I love what you’ve done here—”

  “No, I don’t,” Phoebe said, insulted.

  “Phoebe,” Nick warned. “Be nice.”

  She pulled her hand away from him and crossed her arms.

  “I don’t want to go here,” she said. “I want to go to a normal school.”

  Nick sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “We’ve talked about this, honey.”

  Phoebe turned away, sullen and silent.

  Hazel ducked her head to hide a smile. “I get that all the time. More than you would believe.”

  Nick raised his eyebrows with a grateful look. “You’d think kids would want to go to a magical school.”

  Hazel shrugged. “It’s still school. There’s homework involved.”

  Nick smiled. Hazel’s breath hitched slightly before she looked away.

  Don’t, she thought. Do not let yourself fall for a handsome face. You have work to do.

  “Tell me, Mr. Butler,” she said. “Are you new in town?”

  “Please, it’s just Nick. And no, I live on the edge of Wildemoor. I have a garage there. I fix up cars for, you know, regular, non-magic using people. My wife is the witch. Phoebe got magic from her.”

  Wife.

  Of course. He was married.

  Hazel stifled a sigh.

  “Is your wife here today?” she said. “I’d love to speak to her as well. I always enjoy meeting the parents of my new students.”

  Nick shifted and glanced down at Phoebe. Hazel’s gaze dropped to the empty space on his finger where a ring should have been.

  Not married then.

  “No,” Nick said. “She’s not here.”

  “Oh,” Hazel said quietly. “I’m so sorry.”

  “That’s not…no, I didn’t mean…she’s still alive. Marissa and I are divorced. She left about three years ago, I haven’t seen or heard from her since.”

  “I’m…well, that’s still not good news.”

  “No, I guess it’s not.” He laughed and rubbed a hand over his face. “Sorry for the mix-up. It’s been a long day. Lots of emotions running wild.”

  He gestured to Phoebe. She snuck a glance up at Hazel until Phoebe realized she was being watched then whipped around again, feigning anger for show to prove a point.

  “Forgive me for over sharing,” Nick added.

  “Actually, it helps make my job a little easier,” Hazel said.

  “It does?”

  “Yes. Home life can impact my students in the class room. And since Phoebe will be my student, I want to make sure that she’s well taken care of.”

  Nick released a breath of relief. “I’ve heard a lot of good things about you. Sounds like you’re just what my Phoebe needs to help her with magic.”

  A pleased flush swept up Hazel’s cheeks.

  “Thank you, Nick. That’s very kind of you. But I’m just doing my job.”

  He nodded and held up the paperwork.

  “I’ll see you Monday, then?” he said.

  “Bright and early,” Hazel replied.

  Nick placed his hand on Phoebe’s shoulder and guided her away. Hazel touched her still-warm cheeks. She hadn’t been that tongue-tied or flustered in a man’s presence since she was a teenager.

  But she did her best to push the thought of Nick Butler and his broad shoulders out of her mind. She returned her attention to her list of new students and went in search of Bryony to discuss the possibility of adding Ph
oebe to her earth magic class. Most children loved getting their hands dirty. It just might be the ticket to getting Phoebe to enjoy her stay at Windywings.

  “Miss Aven!”

  Hazel turned to see Nick jogging toward her. Phoebe was nowhere in sight.

  “Is something wrong?” she said. “Where’s Phoebe?”

  “Nothing’s wrong. Phoebe’s in the car. I just…I just wanted to ask you a quick question. Before I, you know, lose my nerve here.”

  Hazel folded her arms around her clipboard, hugging it to her chest.

  “I’m listening,” she said.

  Nick took a deep breath and released it in a rush.

  “Would you like to grab a drink with me on Friday night?” he said.

  Hazel’s heart stuttered in surprise but she schooled her expression to remain impassive.

  “I beg your pardon?” she said.

  Nick blanched. “I guess that’s pretty sudden.”

  “It is.”

  He grimaced at her chilled tone which wasn’t her intention but she was still reeling from shock. Most men she encountered were either married or took one look at her and fled. She terrified men with her strict posture and school teacher rigidity.

  But Nick didn’t seem the least bit afraid of her.

  “Oh boy,” he said in a flat tone of chagrin. “I know that look. Overstepped my boundaries, got it. Forget I said anything. Never happened.”

  He turned to go when Hazel spoke.

  “I prefer tea to alcohol,” she said.

  Nick went still. Slowly, he turned back to her. It must have taken a considerable amount of courage for him to ask her out, judging by how bright his eyes were with tentative hope—the blooming light of a new beginning he didn’t dare believe was true but he wanted anyway.

  “The Eye of Newt then?” he said. “Seven o’clock?”

  Hazel bit the inside of her cheek to hide a smile.

  “That would be lovely,” she said.

  A grin spread across Nick’s face as he backed up.

  “I look forward to it, Miss Aven,” he said.

  CHAPTER TWO

  The Windywings schoolhouse was cozy and small. It always felt like a second home to Hazel. Ever since she was little, she adored the neat row of desks, the rustic clay pots lined up on the windowsill, spilling over with herbs for tea, potions, and spells.

  For as long as Hazel could remember, she had wanted nothing more than to be a teacher. Particularly a magical one.

  With school starting on Monday, there was plenty of work to be done. Now that the open house was over, she could focus all of her attention on getting the classrooms ready for her students.

  Hazel brandished her wand like a weapon and spoke a neat, precise spell. A feather duster appeared in the air, sweeping across every surface in the tiny schoolhouse.

  Hazel cast another spell to get the brooms started, clearing away the floor.

  “It looks like you don’t even need me.”

  She turned to see Bryony Torres standing in the doorway. She wore a cranberry red sweater that had seen better days and embroidered down one arm in black, scrawling letters, it read, MONSTER. Her witch’s hat was slightly askew, perched atop a mass of carrot-orange curls, frizzy from the humid air.

  “Of course I need you,” Hazel said. “You’re my best teacher.”

  Bryony rolled her eyes. “Apart from you.”

  She tossed her hat on the rack by the door and tucked her broom against the wall.

  “What can I do?” she said.

  Hazel gestured down the hall. “Could you check the school library? I’m afraid it was a bit of a mess and I haven’t managed to clean it up yet.”

  Bryony bounced down the hall, eager to be of use. Hazel watched her go with no small amount of envy. Bryony seemed lighter these days now that she’d been dating Sean O’Hara, her old school nemesis turned boyfriend.

  They’d had a rocky beginning but it was obvious they were crazy about each other. Everyone could see that. It had only been a matter of time before they worked things out and realized they actually liked each other instead of hated each other’s guts.

  Hazel sank into a chair, her hand lying flat against the wooden desktop.

  Hazel had been schoolmates with Sky Sangrey and Bryony Torres. They grew up together, fumbled through learning spells together. They’d even turned each other into frogs once, all at the same time. Afterwards, they had laughed until there were tears in their eyes over the mistake.

  But now, they were growing up. Building lives of their own.

  Yes, they’d all stayed in Wildemoor—a sleepy little magical village. And yet it felt as if they were drifting apart, too.

  Sky had her own tearoom, Boiled and Brewed. And then she had Aiden Hall, her fiancé.

  Bryony was a teacher at Windywings and on occasion, she worked weekends at her family’s farm, Pagan Posies, growing herbs and tending the orchard. And she had Sean O’Hara in her life. They always talked about what a big family they would have one day.

  And Hazel?

  Hazel buried herself in Windywings. She adored her students. She craved the classroom and the schedule, guiding new witches and warlocks to discover the power they held at their fingertips with their magic.

  But a small voice in the back of Hazel’s mind told her that something was missing.

  “You’re staring again.”

  Hazel’s head snapped up. Bryony crossed her arms as she leaned on the doorframe, one eyebrow raised. Her riot of curls were loosely tied back at the nape of her neck. But a stray lock of hair spilled over her forehead, landing between her eyes. She brushed it away impatiently.

  “What’s on your mind?” Bryony said.

  Hazel shook her head and stood, smoothing her pencil skirt down.

  “Nothing,” she said. “There’s just been so much going on to prepare for the new school year. I haven’t been getting enough sleep I guess.”

  Bryony hummed, eyes narrowed.

  “If you say so,” she said.

  She held up a worn, tattered copy of a spellbook.

  “I have a few old spellbooks I could donate,” she said. “I’m sure Sky does, too. Some of your copies look like they’ve been around since the dawn of time.”

  Hazel laughed. “That’s probably true. The children would appreciate some nicer copies that haven’t been so abused.”

  “I’ll bring them by tomorrow.” Bryony hesitated, lingering in the doorway as she ran her thumb along the edges of the book. “You know you can talk to me, right? About anything?”

  Hazel nodded. “I do.”

  Bryony shrugged and glanced down at the book. “I mean, you’ve always been the one that Sky and I came to with our problems. It just seemed like you have the answer for everything and you always know what you’re doing. But…” She shrugged again. “I just want you to know that I’m here if you need anything.”

  Hazel watched Bryony leave. It was strange to hear how others perceived her. There were days when Hazel felt as if she was hanging on by little more than her fingernails. She had nearly fifty students to wrangle every school year and magic tended to add an extra twist of chaos.

  Hazel clapped her hands to end the cleaning spells she had conjured. The feather duster and broom darted to her side, awaiting instructions for the next room.

  It was a general rule that Hazel kept private matters to herself. She didn’t flaunt or parade problems or accomplishments around. She simply focused on her students and their lessons in magic.

  But this time, Hazel itched to talk to someone.

  “Bryony!” she called.

  The squeak and scuff of Bryony’s boots on the hardwood floor echoed in the hallway. She reappeared at the door, curls tumbling over one shoulder in a mass of orange.

  “Yes?” she said.

  “I have a date,” Hazel replied.

  Bryony’s eyebrows shot up and her mouth formed a small O.

  “You haven’t been on a date in…” She traile
d off, her gaze distant and directed toward the ceiling as she struggled to remember.

  “I know,” Hazel said with a sigh. “Seven years.”

  “When?”

  “Friday.”

  “Do I know him?”

  Hazel glanced away, scrubbing at a mark on the surface of a nearby desk.

  “His name is Nick Butler,” she said.

  Bryony pursed her lips in concentration, eyes narrowed.

  “Nope,” she said at last. “Doesn’t ring a bell.”

  Hazel continued to scrub at the scratch on the desk, avoiding Bryony’s gaze. Bryony wasn’t the romantic type—that would be Sky’s department. Bryony would remain level-headed about all of this. Sky was the one who would get dreamy-eyed and allow her imagination to run away with her.

  Hazel couldn’t afford to let loose her imagination. She had children to look after and Nick had his own history that he would bring to the table—an absent wife, raising a daughter on his own.

  Hazel took a deep breath and plucked at an invisible dust speck on her sleeve.

  “I guess I’m a little nervous,” she said. “Which hasn’t happened before.”

  Bryony nodded as she stepped further into the room. “It’s nice to know you’re human after all.”

  Hazel cast her a playfully annoyed look.

  “Your secret is safe with me,” Bryony said, holding her hands up. “Don’t worry. Won’t tell another soul.” She hesitated. “I could…help?”

  “With what?” Hazel said.

  Bryony fidgeted, shoulders hitched toward her ears.

  “I don’t know,” she said. “Sean and I don’t really…date. We just work together and pester each other. But I know you, Hazel. This is going to be a very nice affair. You’ll get all dressed up. So…” Bryony gave a vague gesture as if she felt lost. “It would make sense that you’d need help with clothes or hair or…whatever.”

  Hazel bit the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing. Bryony didn’t care about what she looked like. Her clothes were torn and ratty but comfortable. Her hair was always a wild mess, left to hang loose down her back in a matted tangle, peppered with leaves and twigs after working in the gardens or greenhouses of Pagan Posies.