whiskey witches 02 - blood moon magick

by blooding, s m

  “Where are we going?” Paige asked.

  His expression was wide and boyish through the rest of the drive.

  She rolled her eyes and laughed, but didn’t say much about it. Boys and their toys.

  They pulled up to her favorite Italian restaurant. “You should have asked if I could afford to buy you this dinner.”

  He removed the keys from the ignition. “It’s your favorite.”

  “Oh, yes. It’s my favorite, but I have to save up to come here.” Mattialo’s was amazing, but expensive. It was one of those places you took yourself to, but only if the occasion was really, really special.

  Dexx shrugged. “If you were buying, I would have asked.”

  She frowned as they strolled through the darkened parking lot. “You can afford this place? How?”

  His arm whacked hers as he stepped over the curb. “I sold some tires today.”

  “Tires.”

  “Yeah. Also, one of your neighbors, the cop in 2A, needed an oil change on his SUV. Well, it needs a lot more. I’ll be working on it again this weekend, but, yeah. I got some work.”

  She stepped through the second doorway and took in that face. He was really wearing on her, and he was handsome to boot. What was wrong with her body?

  Oh, it was answering.

  A whisper of a tingle rippled along her skin, dancing over her nipples, reminding her that she had carnal needs. Needs she hadn’t fulfilled in a very, very long time.

  Her emotions repressed her reactions, however. Keeping her focused, on target. “You don’t have to do this. We could go somewhere else.”

  He raised his hand to touch her face, but stopped. His eyelashes feathered against his cheeks in some reaction she couldn’t read. “The food’s better here.” He turned toward the greeter. “Reservation for Colt?”

  Paige narrowed her eyes at him. “So, this was the plan all along?”

  He shrugged impishly.

  The greeter seated them at a table in a corner. The light was dim, the mood mellow and romantic. Paige couldn’t help the smile on her face. She’d taken herself there many times, but she’d never thought she’d enjoy the romantic ambience of the restaurant.

  “Okay.” Dexx set his water glass down. “Talk to me. What’s wrong with that bedroom?”

  She mashed her lips. They were in a romantic place and he wanted to talk about that? No.

  “This has something to do with Leah. Doesn’t it?”

  She swallowed the bile of guilt that rose into her throat.

  He took her hand, a frown furrowed in his brow as he licked his lips. “I noticed it every time I come here. The door’s always closed. You have it set up for an office or something. I don’t know what you’re doing with the sewing machine. I don’t think you ever use it, but the other bedroom door is always closed. And it hurts you each time you walk past it.”

  She pulled her hand away.

  Well, tried. He gripped her fingers. Not hard. Just enough to let her know—what? That he was there? That he offered strength?

  “I’m your friend, Pea.”

  She released a huge sigh and fell against the back of her chair, leaving only her fingertips in his.

  Friend. What did that mean?

  That he knew all her deep dark secrets, had seen her at her worst, and he was still there. That’s what it meant.

  Yeah. Maybe she just needed to get the words out of her mouth. “You’re right. Leah. I didn’t even remember her, and I still got a place with an extra room. For her. And it hurts that her things aren’t in it.”

  “You’re her mother.”

  “No.” The reality of her words eased the flaring pain in her chest as they left an acid after-taste on her tongue. “No. I’m not. I’m not a mother. I’m not her mother.”

  He leaned his elbows on the table. “Pea.”

  She held up her other hand. “That’s the part that hurts the most. It’s not the fact that she’s in New York, that I’m here, or that I was made to forget her. It’s not the fact that I haven’t heard her voice yet today, or seen her face in over five years.”

  His green eyes latched on to hers, a kind of desperate helplessness fleeing from them like a rope just out of reach.

  “It’s the fact that I’m not her mother.” Paige brushed the hurt aside. Saying it out loud did help. In a weird, freeing sort of way. “I lacked the courage before.”

  “You were pretty damned courageous, Pea.”

  “No.” She stared at the condensation rolling off the side of her water goblet. “I had the wrong kind of courage.”

  Dexx was quiet for a long moment.

  Paige didn’t know what else to say. She hadn’t talked about this, any of this, for so long. Who would she talk to? People outside her situation? If she told anyone she’d lost her daughter to her mother, they would look at her as if she were a serial killer of babies and ask what she’d done wrong.

  Dexx took her other hand in his and gave them a little jerk. “You’re an idiot, Pea,” he said gently. “You are an amazing woman and you will get her back.”

  She lifted her eyebrows and slipped on a smile she didn’t feel. “Let’s change the subject. So, you’re a roaming mechanic, huh?”

  He chuckled. “Gotta bring home the bacon somehow.”

  His expression softened as he stared at her from across the table. Those green eyes did something to her soul. It softened her in a way that made her stronger. She didn’t even know how that was possible.

  Even with everything else she had to deal with, she could handle it. Thanks to Dexx. Big, goofy, lovable Dexx.

  And she was going to reach into her womanly depths and find the energy to make use of his beautiful body.

  Just, probably, not that night.

  But one night.

  Soon.

  Dexx flagged their waiter down and pointed to Paige’s empty wine glass.

  “Dexx.” She opened her hands and gave him a “what the fuck” look. Wine wasn’t cheap when you had to buy it by the glass. She should have savored it.

  He smirked and lifted one shoulder, trying on an expression of adorable.

  “Oh, no. No. No-no. That cutesy stuff is not gonna cut it.” She couldn’t stop smiling, though. Bit by ragged bit, his charm chiseled away at the ice surrounding her stone heart.

  He leaned his elbows on the table and flicked his eyebrows at her, his expression relaxed. “Meh, come on, Pea. You just got back from the case from Hell—all puns intended—and you made it home. Time for a little unwind.”

  “Yeah, but we could afford more winey-unwind at the liquor store.”

  He chuckled and ducked his head. “Tell me you don’t drink wine out of a box.”

  She’d never even had wine from a box, so she couldn’t diss it. “No, but I do buy Barefoot. It’s the classy, good tasting box wine in a bottle.” She could get a whole jug of it for ten dollars.

  “Okay. So, back to Star Wars versus Star Trek.”

  She couldn’t even remember the last geeky, fun conversation she’d had. Just for the fun of it. “How can you even compare the two? Star Trek has class, great scripts, great actors who can act.” She shrugged, pulling her head back. “Star Wars had bears.”

  “Bears!” He snorted and took a slice of bread out of the basket between them. “No. They’re Ewoks. Bears? And you’re talking about the reboot of Star Trek. A real Trekkie is a Trekkie from the start.”

  “I never claimed to be a Trekkie. You wouldn’t catch me dead in those dresses. They’d barely cover my ass.”

  “But you’d look hot in that dress.”

  She glared at him. “How is it that a society so advanced puts women in the tiniest thing they can find?”

  “At least you’d have full room to run. Tiny dress. No constriction on the legs. That’s the reason for the boots. See?” He tapped his finger on his head. “Thinking.”

  “And what happens in the cold? Men have pants and full shirts. Women have…pantyhose?”

  “So yo
u are a fan of the Force.” He winked at her. “I knew it.”

  She bugged her eyes at him. “And the hair styles, and the elaborate costumes, and the ton of fabrics women had to wear?”

  “Hey, did you see some of the outfits Padme wore? Pants.”

  “Tights. And—this was news to me—shirt tights. Who knew?”

  He pulled back with a huge grin as their waiter arrived with Paige’s glass of red wine. “Who knew?”

  Paige looked up at their waiter, Tom. She seemed to get him the most often, not that he ever showed more than a passing familiarity with her. She wasn’t in that often. “If he orders me another one of these, ignore him, please?”

  Tom clasped his hands in front of his white lap apron and smiled. “Of course. Your food should be out shortly.”

  Paige and Dexx bantered back and forth over the issue of sexism in the world. The conversation got a little hot when politics were thrown in the mix.

  Dexx held up his hands. “I surrender. Also, I’m on your side. Your eggs. Your uterus. Your vagina. Your business. I get it.”

  Releasing her frustration, Paige chuckled. “Sorry. I haven’t had anyone to discuss any of this with.”

  “Politics?”

  “As in the last thing anyone talks about with friends or family…if you want everyone to remain alive?”

  “Oh, right.” He glanced up as Tom arrived with their meals. “Thanks, man.”

  “Is there anything else?” Tom asked.

  Paige shook her head. She took a bite of her mushroom ravioli. Sure. She could have gone a little wilder, lived a tad more dangerously. She could have order the baked rustica. It was delicious, but something about the dark mushrooms and the sharp yet mild cheese sauce tangled with the soft, almost chewy pasta exterior beckoned to her like a lover.

  Dexx’s eyebrows rose as he watched her. “Maybe I should have gotten that. Or ordered a room for you and your plate.”

  The tips of her ears burned. “You’re right. It’s been a while since I’ve been able to just relax. This was a good idea. Thank you.”

  He nodded with a half-smile. “What do you think about cars?”

  She pulled a thoughtful expression, trying to concentrate on something other than the food-gasm in her mouth. “I like it when they’re running. They make getting to work very convenient.”

  “I was thinking of catching the Fast and the Furious.”

  “Oh, you meant sexy, pretty, yummy cars that appear on screen just long enough for you to drool over them and lust for them before they’re irrevocably destroyed.”

  Dexx blinked in surprise. “So, you’re a dictionary drunk.” The corners of his lips turned down as he nodded. “Good to know. Good to know.”

  “I’m not drunk.” Though, she could feel the wine loosening up her muscles and her mind a little. Also, her nerves. In a good way. The way his lips curved up when he made a face. The way his eyes crinkled around the edges when he laughed. The caress of his voice when he spoke.

  His word choice. His topic choice. His lack of manners.

  She was finally turned on.

  Her arms tingled. Her nipple awakened. Her skin came alive.

  And all he’d really done was talk. Well, he’d talked her out of a bad mood. That was pretty amazing.

  “Get up and go to the bathroom if you’re not drunk.”

  She knew that as long as she remained seated, she’d be fine. She’d had two glasses of red wine on an empty stomach. She hadn’t had so much to drink in a long while. “Shut up.”

  He turned his head to the side and met his shoulder to his chin with an angelic smile before returning to his meal.

  “What did you get again?”

  “The lobster carb of aura.”

  She cringed from the pain of his word butchering. “The carbonara?”

  “Yeah. That.” He pointed to her with a snap of his fingers. “It has bacon. Bacon makes everything better.”

  “Your style and class continually amazes me.”

  “Oh, good. I was worried. Does this shirt bring out my fabulous pecs?” He set his fork down and flexed his chest muscles. “That’s what I was going for.”

  Truth of the matter was, he could wear a potato sack and make it look sexy. “You did good.”

  “Excellent. Want to try mine?”

  She had never done something so intimate. Not even with Leah’s father. She blinked, waiting for the pain of his memory, but there was nothing. Just a distant memory of good times and the feel of loss when he’d been killed by a drunk driver. She could really be moving on. Interesting.

  When she looked up, a fork of spaghetti in a white cream sauce was already half-way over the table.

  Swallowing, she leaned over and took the bite he offered.

  His breathing changed and something in his eyes warmed.

  Her heart hitched as she watched him, her hands imagining what it would be like to touch him, her lips recalling the feel of his. She chewed and swallowed, the magic in her mouth enhancing her imaginings. “That’s definitely good.”

  His eyes flared, then the heat in his gaze blipped as if it had never been there. He leaned forward and opened his mouth, his eyes closed.

  She giggled. She couldn’t help it. When was the last time she’d giggled, of all the damned things? She cut one of her raviolis in half and slipped it into his waiting mouth.

  His lips clamped onto her fork. The heat returned to his now open eyes. One hand rested on the table his fingers searching for hers.

  What was she supposed to do? Her heart raced as if she were in a panic. She wasn’t a virginal boob. She knew what to do.

  But what did she want?

  Her mind slowed, her body warming as she met his gaze, feeling a fire rise from the pit of her soul. Did she want him?

  Yes, her body whispered, each nerve in the arm holding the fork pinging to attention, raising the hairs.

  Did she need him?

  Yes, her heart cried. A few melted drops of her stone cold heart swam through her veins, filling her with a life she hadn’t realized was missing.

  He wasn’t one for settling down and she wasn’t one for roaming. But if she wanted him, she wasn’t going to give him up easily. Was that what she wanted?

  Her soul didn’t answer, not in words. A great weight lifted. It didn’t disappear. It simply felt shared.

  She slowly removed the fork from his lips, and rose half-way out of her chair, claiming those lips with her own. Salty. Smooth. Cool.

  Amazing.

  She licked his bottom lip, grazing it with her teeth as she slipped back. Regaining her seat, she speared the remaining half of her ravioli and crammed it into her mouth.

  He sank into his chair, but it took him a moment before he started chewing. “Wine?”

  “I’ve had enough.”

  “I could order more.”

  She laughed, a deep, throaty guffaw. They talked about small things after that. Nothing heavy. Nothing deep. Hobbies they had.

  When she got him talking about cars, she didn’t have to worry about coming up with anything else to say. She learned more about what happened under the hood than she ever dreamed possible. Fire walls and engine blocks and dropping a tranny and—it went on and on and on. She couldn’t stop him, though. He was just so animated when he talked about it and he lit up.

  She gulped her water. She needed full control of her senses before they got back to her place. He’d been sleeping on the couch, but after that kiss, she wasn’t sure she could force him out of her bed. Not because of him. Because of her.

  By the time they walked out of the restaurant, the buzz from the wine was gone. She still felt a little less constrained, so she knew the alcohol was still in her system. However, it wasn’t controlling her, and that’s what mattered.

  “Do you hear that?” he asked, stopping, his head cocked.

  The crisp, cold night air nipped at her when they walked out of the restaurant. She tugged her black leather jacket a little tighter and
looked around. “No.” But then she did.

  A scuffle. Someone grunted. Another person growled.

  She glanced at Dexx and headed in the direction of the sounds. She unzipped her jacket and drew her weapon.

  Dexx jogged around a dark SUV and slowed to a stop, a confused frown marring his face.

  Paige clicked off the safety of her Micro Eagle and turned the corner of the vehicle.

  Two men fought in the patch of grass between the parked cars, but something was off with both of them.

  One man had fangs.

  The other had fur. And was growling.

  Paige stepped into the grass and leaned in. “Gentlemen?”

  The fanged man stopped, relaxing his face. He tugged on the sleeves of his impressive business jacket and narrowed his green eyes at the other man.

  A woman peeled herself out of the shadows, her hands raised. She was tall, blonde, and gorgeous. Her tight, red dress left very little to the imagination. Her high-heeled shoes made Paige’s feet hurt just looking at them. “It’s okay. I’ve already called the cops. You can—” Her ruby red lips curled in a smile as she flicked one well-manicured finger. “—leave. There is nothing to see here.”

  “I am the cops.”

  The furry man faced her. The “fur” was only along his jaw and hands. His ears were longer than a human’s, like an elf-dog. His eyes glowed yellow, and he had more than fangs. He had a full set of sharp teeth.

  How were the cops supposed to handle something like that?

  “Rosy, Rosy, Rosy,” a familiar voice said behind her.

  Paige blinked, her mind scrambling to figure out a lie to tell her partner. She didn’t even know what she was lying about.

  Whoa! What? Tony? What was he doing here?

  “What have I told you? Keep your dog on a shorter leash.”

  Tony entered round circle of light from the overhead parking lot lamp.

  His words registered and the mind-scrambling stopped. She raised her chin, a frown furrowing her brows. “Tony.”

  He froze, his eyes wide. “Paige.”

  The hairy man stood, his face morphing into human. “That’s your partner, right?”

  How’d he do that? She knew better than to ask that question. She turned to Fang Man instead. “What happened out here?”