A Witch In Time Read Online Free

truism with a capital T. It was up to all of us to do our best to banish the Murphmeister from our lives. I understood that. In theory. Practical application proved trickier, but I was trying.
    And you see Marcus as good for you, I think? the Grandma C conscience voice prodded.
    Yes. Oh, yes.
    Well?
    For once, Grandma C had it going on. And with her and Liss and Minnie on my side, how could I resist?
    Crosstown traffic was clearing by the time we ventured past our quiet neighborhood. Not that Stony Mill rush hour could ever compare to or compete with a larger city, but with narrow streets and parking along the curb, safe passage could at times be a complicated process. I cut across via the byzantine residential routes, wending through subdivisions, until I hit the sleepy older neighborhood on the outskirts that Marcus called home. Before I got to know Marcus, I would never have envisioned him living in a one-and-a-half-story Craftsman-style bungalow, complete with a deep porch and low-slung roofline. The spiky iron fence at the front might not have matched in theory, but the river stone posts separating the sections made it work. The house was far from modern, but it possessed a quiet dignity that felt comfortable and familiar. I loved everything about it, from the faded linoleum in the kitchen, to the carriage barn in the rear that had been converted into a garage-slash-motorcycle workshop, aka the ideal Man Cave. Now that was what I had always expected from my Marcus.
    My Marcus. I smiled at the very thought.
    I parked at the curb. Deep breaths, Maggie my girl, I told myself. A quick check in the mirror I’d long ago Velcro’ed onto the visor assured me that neither the heat nor the humidity had demolished my best beauty efforts yet, though getting out of the elements would certainly help. I glanced over at Minnie and smiled.
    “Here we go.”
    I grabbed my bag, Minnie’s carrier, and the canvas tote of kitty goodies and let myself in through the front gate. It made the usual squawk of the hinges as I closed it and dropped the latch into place. The cobbled walk under my feet felt like the curving yellow brick road of Oz, leading me to . . .
    “Hello, sweetness.”
    I felt a flush of pleasure sweep through me as I looked up to find Marcus waiting for me in the crook of the old-fashioned wooden screen door and looking nothing like the wily wizard. I stopped in my tracks at the base of the steps. Even from deep in the belly of the porch, his eyes seemed to glow in welcome. My heart did a little bounce and wobble.
    Oh, yeah, I was in big trouble, all right.
    I lifted my hand and gave a weak, fluttering wave. “Hi.”
    “I’ve been waiting for you.”
    Another wobble, and this time my stomach got into the act. Keep your head on straight, girl, Grandma C’s voice intoned inside my head. Nice and easy. “You have?”
    “Mm-hm.”
    “Oh.” I was having trouble getting the gears in my brain to function. All they did was whirr. Madly.
    “You going to stand down there all day?” he asked, a lilt of amusement lifting one corner of his mouth as he leaned a shoulder indolently against the inner door frame. “Or did you want me to come down there and get you?”
    Well, that option did present some distinct possibilities . . .
    Flustered, I cleared my throat and made a show of displaying my things as I mounted the steps. “I come with baggage.”
    “Do you, now. Hello, Minnie.” He reached down to take them from me, setting it all inside the door, which he still held propped open with one foot, then turned back to face me. His clear blue eyes searched mine. I couldn’t help wondering how much he saw there. “And you . . .” he said, his voice trailing off as he took my face between his hands and lowered his mouth to mine for one long, heart-stopping minute.
    Big trouble.
    Oh yeah.
    “Hell- ooo , Miss O’Neill.” The low croon teased my tingling lips most pleasantly.
    “Hello, Mr. Quinn,” I breathed back, linking