by Michele Hauf
Thoroughly embarrassed but not about to let her see that, Lars lifted his chin and winked at her. Hey, he could play this game too. Even if it did make him uncomfortable.
“All right, witches, so the man has an impressive dick,” Valor said as she strolled by the tub and toward the altar. She glanced back at Lars and said, “Well, you do.”
He could but lift his shoulders a little higher. Yeah, so he did have his talents.
“But let’s focus, shall we?” Valor insisted. “The preshow is over. Geneva has briefed us on the spell. It’s time for the magic. Mireio, it’s your game now.”
“Let’s perform the blessing,” Mireio announced.
The three witches clasped hands over by the spell stuff and bowed their heads. Mireio recited a blessing that asked for their safety and his, and then she slipped into Latin, which Lars had no clue how to interpret. The tones of her voice were harmonized by her fellow witches with hums.
Lars swept his hair over a shoulder and, spying a pink hair clip by the tub used it to hold back his hair in a messy tangle. Not a man bun. He didn’t do man buns. Nor did he soak in a tub like some kind of spoiled...
Eh. Well. So this day was turning out to be challenging in ways he’d never expected to face. But still. The soak was kind of relaxing. The water was not clear, thanks to the salts and some black specks floating on the surface—he suspected it was ash and hoped it wasn’t something like crushed frog brains. He tilted his head back against the curved headrest and stretched out his arms along the marble edges.
He quickly sat up as the women convened from their prayer and circled the tub.
“Everyone ready?” Mireio asked. “How about you, Lars?”
He shrugged. “What do you need me to do?”
“Just sit there. Maybe close your eyes. Take in everything that comes your way. We will touch you at certain points in the spell...”
He cast a look at Geneva, who winked at him.
“...but those touches will be to ground you and allow our magics to flow into you. So be open.”
“Open. Got it.”
“All right, witches.” Geneva spread her arms wide and opened her palms faceup. “Let’s do this!”
What followed was more chanting and humming, and it, at once, gave Lars the chills and then made him feel kind of dreamy. Almost as if he were falling into a hypnotic state. Realizing that, he shook himself back to alertness. Valor had leaned forward to touch his right shoulder. Eyes closed, the witch murmured something in a low, haunting voice. Geneva followed by touching his left shoulder. Her chant seemed to trickle up his spine and radiate out through his veins. She was the witch with the healing powers, so he certainly hoped she knew what she was doing.
And from behind him, Mireio placed both her hands to his head, spreading her fingers along the sides and whispering what sounded to him like nonsense syllables, but he felt her energy. He felt the energies from all of them. Vibrations hummed through his body, singing an ancient tune. So he closed his eyes and accepted it all, taking it in and daring to hope.
Five minutes might have passed. Or maybe a half an hour. But eventually the touches left his body and he felt the pulling away like a snapped connection. But he didn’t startle. As the women filed out of the room, Lars floated there, peaceful and content. Someone blew out the final candle, leaving the room dark, but he felt the moon beam through the stained glass behind him dance across his exposed skin and glimmer on the water’s surface. And if he went there, to that place where hope lived and witch magic really worked, he felt...lighter. Actually happy.
And he knew that Mireio had returned to the bathroom and stood in the doorway, quietly observing him. He didn’t call out to her. He was content to share this moment and know that something had happened tonight. Whether or not their magic had cured him or simply delayed the process of his death didn’t matter.
What mattered was that he was pretty sure he loved the woman who stood watching him. And that no matter what, he’d fight for her. Always.
Chapter 18
A day passed, and Mireio only received a text from Lars. But she wasn’t down because his text consisted of hearts, flowers and a thumbs-up emoji. He wrote that he was working on the framework for the back of the house and was making headway.
As well, he was probably rising into the healing they’d performed on him, allowing it to enter him completely.
Everything was good. And after a day at work brewing cherry cream ale—one of her favorites—she had stopped by Target on the way home. Now she spilled the bag onto the kitchen counter and sorted through her booty. Because there were bootees. Little blue-and-purple socks with cats paws on the bottoms (she intended to tell Lars they were wolf socks), a baby T that said I’m Wild and some teething chews and another soft blanket because Peanut only had two and there were days when he spit up on both and Lars had to do laundry before bedtime.
And who could resist the beanie with the floppy gray bunny ears on it?
Mireio now understood why babies always had so much stuff. Buying the things had given her such a cute high it was even better than a slow sip of wine after a long day at work.
A knock on her front door surprised her. Suspecting Mrs. Henderson might have another Sasquatch sketch to show her, she pulled a white light of protection over herself as a means to not take on the craziness on the other side of the door.
Before she even touched the doorknob, the door opened and in burst Lars with Peanut clutched to his chest. He strode in and set the diaper bag down, along with the baby carrier, then turned and pulled her in for a kiss sandwich. Peanut cooed between the two of them as Lars made it very difficult to be in cute baby mode when all systems in Mireio were heading toward please take me now and don’t even bother to get undressed.
“Wow. What was that for?”
“You don’t like my kisses?” His dimples were irrepressible as he brushed a palm over the baby’s bushy coif. “Peanut approved.”
“I love your kisses. Anytime, any way. But why so happy today? Did you get a lot done at the cabin?”
“I finished framing in the back of the house. But—” he put up a finger to pause her from cheering for him “—I have even more exciting news.” Smoothing a hand down Peanut’s back the man burst out with “I shifted to wolf this afternoon! And it was because I wanted to, and not without volition. And I shifted back with the same ease. I feel renewed, Mireio. And I have you and your witchy friends to thank for that.”
He bracketed her head and kissed her forehead, then spun and picked up the diaper bag. “Gotta change Peanut. He had a blowout on the way here.”
“I noticed that,” she said, waving her hand beneath her nose to disperse the rank air. “I’m so happy for you, Lars. Who was watching Peanut when you went out?”
“Sunday. Both Dean and I went for a run. Man, that felt so good.” He laid the blanket out on the floor and starting changing the baby. “And I have so much energy today. But I think it’s my normal energy. I didn’t realize how run-down I’ve been lately. You got any coffee?”
“Uh, no coffee for you. I think you’re flying high enough. Oh, please put that one outside in the garbage can. I’m thankful tomorrow is pickup day. Whew!”
“I gave him carrots this morning. We’re starting to try some food.”
“Awesome. You know, I could plant a garden for you on your land and make homemade, all-natural baby food for Peanut. It shouldn’t be too late to plant.”
“Would you really do that?” With Peanut all fresh and beaming, Lars walked over and handed the baby to her. “I’ll be right back.” He headed outside with the stink bomb.
“I would do anything for you, sweetie.” She kissed Peanut’s head, loving his soft sweet scent so much, and she nuzzled her cheek and nose into his silky hair.
When Lars returned he st
opped halfway to the kitchen and stared at her.
Mireio felt as if she might have forgotten to comb her hair. Or maybe she had baby spit on her she hadn’t noticed. “What?”
“You’re so beautiful standing there in a beam of sunlight. Your hair is like fire and your eyes like ice. And I can feel you right here.” He slapped a hand over his heart. “You and Peanut are my two favorite people. How’d I get so lucky?”
“We’re not always beautiful. One of us has mastered the stink bombs. And the other can work the cranky vibe once a month. So watch out.”
“I’ll take the stink and the crank. I’m so blessed.”
“The one that’s truly blessed is this little guy. Erik.”
“Hmm, not so sure about that one.”
“Oh, come on, it’s very Scandinavian.”
“It is. I’ll put it on my possibilities list.”
“Do you have such a list?”
“Maybe.” He tugged the baby book out of the diaper bag and sat on the couch but didn’t open it. “I should have picked up something for us to eat. I wasn’t thinking clearly after the stink bomb hit in the truck.”
Mireio laughed. “Want me to order pizza? I could actually go for a big cheesy slice with lots of pepperoni and sausage and...”
“Mushrooms and onions?”
“Oh, yeah, your kisses are going to be very savory later.”
“As will yours.” He winked. “Order an extra-large. I’m starving.”
* * *
After they’d made the pizza disappear, Lars fed Peanut a few spoonfuls of mashed peas, which the baby promptly spit up. The kid was developing a bubbly giggle, and even with peas splattered all over his face and beard, Lars could but laugh along with him.
“I’m going to run a tub,” Mireio said as she breezed by them toward the bathroom.
“For you?”
“Aha-ha-ha!” She paused and gestured toward his beard in a circling manner. “You’re starting to look like the swamp thing with all those peas in your beard.”
“’Bout time we do the tub challenge!” he called after her.
After burping his son and changing his diaper, he laid Peanut down on the floor to read to him while Mireio was in the bathroom. It was after nine and while he wasn’t at all tired, he didn’t expect to sleep too much later. Not with a sexy woman in the house.
He really felt great. And while he wasn’t so hopeful as to think the witches may have actually cured him, he was going to ride this good feeling for as long as he had it.
Finishing the chapter on what to expect during the fifth month, he closed the book and turned to find Peanut sleeping. The infant sucked in his sleep sometimes, his little lips pushing out repeatedly. Such dreams he must be having.
A crop of bright red hair popped around the corner. Then Mireio stuck out a bare foot, and followed by stepping into view. Lars propped himself up onto his elbows and whistled in appreciation for the woman wearing only a towel.
“You going to strip for me?”
“No, I’m going to take a bath.” She disappeared behind the wall again, and then the towel landed on the floor.
Lars dug in the diaper bag for the baby monitor he never left home without and turned it on. Then he rolled a blanket and placed it on one side of Peanut, and took the roll cushion from the couch and placed it on the other side. Standing over the boy he decided there was no way, if he woke without a sound, he could roll himself into trouble. Check.
Tugging off his shirt, he headed down the hallway and into the bathroom. He set the monitor on the vanity by the sink.
A witch lounged in the vast marble tub, sipping a goblet of wine. She fluttered her lashes and blew a handful of iridescent bubbles into the air. “Ready to screw a mermaid?”
“Yep.” He couldn’t get his jeans off fast enough. But before Lars could dip a toe in the tub, he paused, looking over the vast, sparkling bubbles. It was very different from herbs and healing salts. “Uh...”
“What? Do you want to bring Peanut in here?”
“No, he’s good. Got the monitor set. It’s just...there’s so many bubbles. And it smells like fruit and flowers. It’s all so...”
“Delicious?”
“Girlie,” he decided.
“Oh, lover, I’ll still want to have sex with you if you smell like a girl. Promise. And pomegranate is an aphrodisiac. The scent should drive you wild.”
“I don’t need anything to make me wild for you.”
“Just give it a try.” She slid her hand down a breast, wiping away the bubbles and her nipple peaked above the water’s surface.
Lars stepped into the warm water and lowered himself cautiously. It was just bubbles. Nothing to freak about. And his woman looked so lickable, all wet and with bubbles in her hair. When her hand stroked up his thigh and found his cock, he forgot about the smell and the silliness of a grown man sitting in a bubble bath and glided up to kiss the nipples that teased at him.
Mireio cooed in response and hooked her legs over his hips. He caught his hands on the curve of marble behind her shoulders and suckled her breast until she squirmed so much the waves threatened to slosh over the edges.
“Steady on deck,” he said while dancing his fingers down her body till they were between her legs. “Mmm, this mermaid doesn’t have a tail. And I’ve found something interesting. I think it’s treasure.” He slid fingers inside her and circled her clit with his thumb.
“You’d make a terrible pirate,” she said, gripping the sides of the tub to stay above water. “But I’d walk the plank for you any day. Oh, Lars, yes, just like that. Slow and firm.” She bit her lower lip and groaned deeply in her throat.
He loved the sound of her unabashed pleasure. And he was the man who was so polite and respectful with a woman—until she begged him for more.
Pulling her toward him and kneeling on the bottom of the tub, he used the wave of water to glide her body against his torso and then fitted her neatly onto his jutting erection. Mercy. Nothing felt better. Not. A. Thing.
She began to rock upon him, sending water over the sides of the tub. He encouraged her motions, tensing his jaws as the exquisite tremor of orgasm rushed to his core and coalesced in one perfect blast of oblivion.
Lars howled and clutched the witch against his chest as he released inside her and sighed out a satisfied breath.
* * *
The bubbles had dissipated and the wine was gone. Mireio’s body hugged his as if she were an exhausted mermaid clinging to her earthbound lover. The world was right. No matter the darkness that germinated within his body. As long as he had his two favorite people, Lars could face anything. And he would do anything for Mireio. Thinking of which...
“Did you want to go out again one of these days on a vampire hunt?”
“No. I uh...” She pulled from him and floated to the back of the tub, sliding her arms along the edges to anchor herself. “I think I’m going to put that search off for now. I don’t need to rush into things.”
“But you paid Raven Crosse a lot of money to locate a vamp for you.”
“I know. But I feel differently about it now.”
And he suspected the reason behind that change of heart. “Mireio, you have to do this for yourself.”
“I will. Someday.”
“It’s because of me, isn’t it?”
“What do you mean?”
Sitting up in the water, he bent his knees and propped his elbows on them. “I know what you’re thinking. How can you seek immortality when I might drop dead any day?”
“Don’t say that. You’re feeling so good today.”
“I am. And I intend to take it one day at a time. But it would make me feel better to know your future is secured.”
“To be honest? I’ve decided not t
o do it. And that’s that. So don’t argue with me, okay?”
The staticky baby monitor alerted them both.
“Peanut’s up,” she said. “You go get him and I’ll drain the tub. We can have midnight margaritas out on the patio if you want.”
“Midnight margaritas?”
“It’s a Practical Magic thing. I love the Owens witches, even if they are fictional.” She sat up and flipped her wet hair over a shoulder. “Go get your son.”
Lars reluctantly got out, wrapped towels around his hair and hips, then wandered off to claim the stirring baby.
Mireio propped her chin on the edge of the tub and tapped the wine bottle with a fingernail. “I’ll figure some other way to get revenge on the vampire. When Lars isn’t looking.”
Chapter 19
The next day, Lars stopped into the brewery. Mireio had told him she’d be finished brewing around three, so he made a point of getting there at two. Just in case she’d let him help a bit, maybe even learn a few things. With Peanut in the baby carrier, he strolled inside the empty brewery to find no one behind the bar or back near the brew tanks.
“Mireio?”
Someone walked up behind him and hugged him fiercely. He set Peanut on the floor, letting the carrier rock, then turned and pulled his tiny witch into his arms. She wrapped her legs about his hips and dove in for a kiss.
Lush red hair spilled across his face and hands as he tasted beer and salt on her tongue. He leaned back and studied her. “You been drinking?”
“Ha! No. Maybe. Okay, yes. I had to test the stout. And all I’ve had all day to eat is a bag of stale pretzels. Did you bring me food?”
Estimating that she was a bit tipsy from her “beer testing,” he offered to pick her up a sandwich from the deli down the street.
“Yes!” She pumped the air with a fist and did a little shimmy before Peanut. It ended in a wobble and a spat of giggles.
“How much beer did you test, sweetie?”
“Half a pint? Of the stout. And then maybe a few tasters of the honey IPA and the pale ale. The Scottish ale has gotten rangy. That stuff never lasts for long with the happy spell on it.”