I preheated the oven and put in some pecans to toast while I worked on the cake mix. Flour, two and a half cups. Measuring carefully, I put the first two cups in the bowl, but as I measured out the half cup, another movement out of the corner of my eye caused me to jerk my head. And it was a chain reaction after that. My arm flinched, which made my wrist flex, and my hand shook, flinging flour up and all over my shirt.
Seriously? Son of a biscuit.
I tried to brush the flour off, but it was sticking hard to my sweater. Whatever. Brown sugar, granulated sugar, baking pow—Holy crap!
“Hello, Olivia.” Luci’s voice behind me made my arm jerk big time, and baking powder went on top of the flour all over my chest.
Turning in a slow circle on my heel, I glared at Luci, Ava’s devilish new neighbor, and his girlfriend Carrie, who was my son’s Kindergarten teacher.
“What are you doing here?” I asked in a low voice. It wasn’t that I wanted to be rude, but he was a potentially dangerous man, and I didn’t feel too comfortable being the only responsible adult around him. He usually only came around to stir up trouble.
There was Carrie, but she was dating him, so she didn’t count.
“You know.” Luci squinted at my shirt. “Feeding them won’t make them grow.”
“What?” I narrowed my gaze. “What are you talking about?”
He gestured vaguely to my chest, causing me to look down and belatedly realize he meant feeding my boobs. Great. Okay. “Well, what are you doing here?”
Whirling again, I opened the eggs to add a few to the batter and frustration rose in me so quickly I nearly threw them across the room. “You’ve got to be kidding me. Winston!” I threw my head back and screamed at the house even though he couldn’t or wouldn’t reply.
“No need to shout,” Luci said. “I believe I can help.”
“Oh, thank you, but no, I—”
He cut me off by waving his hand. Eggs lifted out of the carton and plopped right on top of the flour and sugar.
Along with about half of the broken shells from the carton.
“No,” I moaned.
Carrie looked over my shoulder. “Hey, Luc, how about you go in the living room and see if you can help those guys in there with the decorating.” She smiled at me encouragingly. “And I’ll help Olivia pick the shells out of this batter.”
Luci shrugged. “Whatever you say, dear.”
He wandered from the room.
“Sometimes, he’s more trouble than he’s worth, but I really think he means well.” Carrie gave me a half-grin. “And he’s amazing in bed.”
Now that was some gossip I wanted to hear, but I noticed Zoey’s kitty-cat ears twitching. “Maybe we’ll talk about that later.”
I nodded my head slightly toward Zoey and Carried widened her eyes, then tapped her nose to tell me she understood.
“Okay, let’s get to picking.”
The house seemed to calm down a bit with Luci and Carrie there, and we actually got the batter mixed and in the oven before a rattling sound caused us both to turn.
Zoey snickered as Mr. Snoozerton, Ava’s fat, immortal Maine Coon cat, came limping into the kitchen. “Snooze!” I cried. “What happened to you?”
Laughter and snickers from the other room caused me to look a little closer as the big cat limped toward me, shaking out one of his front paws with every other step.
“Oh, no.” I finally saw why he’d been limping as he yowled loudly at me. Alfred came running from the living room, grunting, and the big, cranky cat veered off course, heading for Alfred, his favorite of the house’s inhabitants, rather than me.
Alfred picked him up, then carefully peeled the piece of tape off of Snoozer’s paws, then set the fat cat down so he could take off up the stairs, complaining loudly.
“Who did that?” I asked.
Alfred glared, then shifted his angry look to Carrie.
“Ah,” I translated. “Luci?”
Alfred grunted, then returned to the living room. “Maybe we should follow,” I whispered.
Carrie nodded vehemently, so we hurried out of the kitchen and toward the living room.
“Oh, geez,” I whispered as I took in the view in the living room. “I shouldn’t have left them alone to decorate.”
Carrie snickered under her breath. “I agree.”
The decorations actually weren’t that bad. Streamers… uh, streamed from the light fixture in the middle of the room out to the corners. A big Happy Birthday banner hung over the fireplace, and they’d found balloons somewhere to let drift across the floors and hang from corners. Balloons! That was what I’d forgotten.
That wasn’t the part that made me shake my head in derision.
“Hello?” Ava called. “We’re a little early!” She stopped short in the living room doorway. “Why does Larry have googly eyes?”
Ignoring Larry and my question about where in the world Larry had found giant googly eyes to stick to his eye sockets, I turned in a panic as Ava and Drew, the Birthday Boy himself, walked in a solid hour early. The other guests hadn’t even arrived yet.
After nudging Zoey, I threw up my arms. “Surprise!” I cried. “Happy birthday!”
Zoey echoed me, clapping her hands. Her ears twitched in time with her hands.
Drew stared at Larry with a half-smile on his face. “Thank you!”
Motioning toward a big stain over her boob, Ava grimaced. “Sorry we’re early, I spilled coffee all over my shirt.”
Luci leaned forward from the sofa. “Hey, you know, letting them drink won’t make them grow.”
Okay, maybe that was a little funny.
Witching After Forty Reading Order
A Ghoulish Midlife
Cookies For Satan
I’m With Cupid
A Cursed Midlife
Feeding Them Won’t Make Them Grow
A Girlfriend For Mr. Snoozerton (coming soon)
A Haunting Midlife
An Animated Midlife
A Killer Midlife (coming soon)
About L.A. Boruff
Ready to read more by L.A. Boruff? Check out her full library of works:
https://laboruff.com/
L.A. (Lainie) Boruff lives in East Tennessee with her husband, three children, and an ever-growing number of cats. She loves reading, watching TV, and procrastinating by browsing Facebook. L.A.’s passions include vampires, food, and listening to heavy metal music. She once won a Harry Potter trivia contest based on the books and lost one based on the movies. She has two bands on her bucket list that she still hasn’t seen: AC/DC and Alice Cooper. Feel free to send tickets.
About Lia Davis
Ready to read more by Lia Davis? Check out her full library of works:
https://authorliadavis.com/
Lia Davis is the USA Today bestselling author of more than forty books, including her fan favorite Ashwood Falls Series. A lifelong fan of magic, mystery, romance and adventure, Lia’s novels feature compassionate alpha heroes and strong leading ladies, plenty of heat, and happily-ever-afters. Lia makes her home in Northeast Florida where she battles hurricanes and humidity like one of her heroines. When she’s not writing, she loves to spend time with her family, travel, read, enjoy nature, and spoil her kitties.
Her Oily Wolf
A Paranormal Mystery/Suspense Short Story
Lorri Moulton & Anna-Violetta Carsini
Heat level: 2
Selina Bellerose, a beautiful and mysterious vampire, owns a Steampunk nightclub in downtown Seattle. While solving a series of murders with the intriguing and incredibly sexy Interpol Agent, Damian Salvadori, Selina discovers he’s also a wolf shifter. But now that the murderer has been caught, Damian wants to celebrate and promises to cook Selina a dinner she’ll never forget. Who knew a bottle of olive oil could be shared in so many ways…
Her Oily Wolf
Selina picked up the phone and smiled as she heard Damian’s voice.
“Carina, I would like to ask
you to dinner,” he said. She realized that sexy Italian accent still caused a shiver to run down her back. And she loved the way he called her darling in Italian.
“We’ve been going to dinner every night this week,” Selina reminded him, “except for the takeout on Wednesday.”
“That was very nice,” Damian replied, letting his mind wander back to that night. They’d eventually finished their food. “This time, I will cook for you, Carina.”
Selina was surprised. She knew Damian could make an amazing omelet, but he had never offered to cook dinner before. “That would be lovely.”
“I will bring all the ingredients,” Damian assured her. “Seven o’clock at the club?” He paused, and she could picture the way his eyebrow raised slightly. “I take it the girls will be in Port Townsend?”
“Yes, the club is closed tonight, so we’ll be all alone,” Selina replied. “Are you sure I can’t do anything to help you. With dinner, I mean.”
“Wear something that is easy to clean,” Damian said. “Spaghetti can be a bit…messy.”
“All right.” Selina started to ask him something else, but he had already hung up. “Until tonight,” she whispered, setting the phone back down on the table.
Selina checked in the mirror and smoothed the long skirt of her black lace dress. It wasn’t exactly easy to clean, but she knew he’d like the way the black bustier peeked through the lace. She’d been with Damian Salvadori for over a month and still felt slightly anxious when she was about to see him. Isabella called it butterflies. Apparently, it was a good thing.
Her nieces had given her their blessing to date this Interpol agent and wolf shifter. She had to admit, he was like no other man she’d ever met. He made her very happy. In so many wonderful ways…
She almost jumped as the bell rang. He was at the back door of the club. She walked through the living room and out to the more public office, then through the club and up the stairs to the street level. She loved this nightclub with its combination of Victorian Gothic parlor and Steampunk details.
“Carina, you look beautiful,” Damian said as she opened the door. “Perhaps I should have dressed more formally,” he added, glancing down at his dark pants and white shirt. She loved the way his sleeves were rolled up just enough to give her a glimpse of his powerful, lower arms. Those arms that could hold her as though she weighed nothing.
Forcing herself to look up at his face, she smiled, then kissed him on the lips. Taking a step back, she asked, “Are you sure I can’t help you carry anything?”
Damian wanted to drop the sacks of food and put his arms around her, but instead he just smiled and shook his head. “Let’s go down to the kitchen, and we’ll get started.”
The way he said the last part had Selina wondering what exactly he had planned for this dinner.
Damian set the bags down on the kitchen counter and pulled out a bottle of wine. “I thought something Italian would be appropriate.” He took a step closer and lifted a lock of dark hair off her shoulder and ran a finger along her cheek. “Italian wine is always best with Italian food.”
Selina just nodded. After a moment, she let out a breath and said, “What exactly do you have in there?”
“Pasta, tomatoes, onions, garlic, zucchini…have you had thinly sliced zucchini in spaghetti before?” He looked at her and raised one eyebrow. “It’s amazing.”
“I’m sure it is,” Selina agreed, wondering how the room had gotten so warm. Although she was a vampire and normally cool to the touch, Damian managed to warm her up in a way she could not quite explain but very much enjoyed. “Why don’t I open the wine?”
Damian handed her the bottle, then took more vegetables out of the bags. “I thought we could have a salad with the pasta.”
Selina took two glasses out of the cupboard and poured the wine. “What type of salad? Caesar?”
“No, I was thinking of making something a little different,” Damian replied, pulling out a large bottle of olive oil. “The secret is in the dressing.”
“I already have olive oil,” Selina said, handing him a glass of wine. Taking a sip of the merlot, she added, “This is very good.”
“I thought you would enjoy it.” Damian looked at the olive oil. “This is also from Italy.” He smiled at her in a way that sent heat down to her toes. Opening the oil, he poured a few drops on his finger. “Everything is better from Italy, don’t you agree, Carina?”
She thought he was going to have her taste the oil, but instead he reached out with his other hand and turned her wrist over. Gently dabbing the oil on her wrist, he leaned down and lightly licked off the oil. Then, he kissed her wrist and slowly began working his way up her arm.
As she was about to suggest they wait to make dinner, he stopped. “As I said, the secret is in the dressing.” Still holding her hand, he moved her closer to the counter. “Lemons, sea salt, a little red wine vinegar…and of course, some freshly ground pepper.”
Selina wasn’t sure what he had planned, but she could tell he enjoyed keeping her guessing. Two could play at that game. She slowly pulled her hand away and picked up the olive oil. Putting some on her finger, she ran it across her lower lip, then tasted it. “You’re right. Italian is definitely better.”
Damian felt the wolf want to leap out and claim her. It always wanted her, needed her. It was something he had to fight against constantly, keeping that part of him under control, and he wasn’t sure if she knew how dangerous it could be.
Selina sensed something was bothering him. Deciding to slow things down a bit, she took his hand and smiled up at him. “Let’s dance. We haven’t done that in quite a while.”
Damian nodded. “That is my mistake, Carina. You are beautiful on the dance floor.”
They walked out of the apartment and back through her office. As they reached the dance floor of the club, he leaned down and kissed her hand. “A waltz?”
“I would like that.” She watched him as he walked behind the bar and chose the music. When he got back, he smiled and waited a moment. As soon as the first notes began, he swept her into a slow circle, and they waltzed around the floor. He had his arm wrapped around her and his hand pressed lightly against her back, guiding her around the dance floor. She looked up into those blue eyes and wished the dance would go on for hours.
“I’ve missed this,” Selina said, sighing slightly as the music ended. She lifted her hand from his shoulder and took a step back.
“Then, there is no excuse for me not asking you to dance more often.” Damian pulled her to him and looked into her eyes for a moment, then bent her back very slowly and kissed her.
When he finally pulled her up, he gave her a wicked grin. “As much as I love to waltz, perhaps next time we should try the tango.”
Selina only nodded, still trying to catch her breath after that kiss. Finally, she managed to say, “That would be very nice.”
Damian was still holding her. “There is so much I would like to do with you tonight, but I did promise to make you dinner. Why don’t we finish, and then I can show you some of the other things I have planned for this evening.”
Selina felt that warmth again and did her best to keep her voice even. “After we finish dinner, I’ll show you some of the things I have planned for this evening.”
Damian smiled, then twirled her around very slowly before leading her off the dance floor. As they walked through the club, Selina stopped at the bar. “Your Italian wine is very good, but I think champagne would be nice with dessert.” She smiled. “French champagne perhaps?”
“French is my favorite,” Damian said. “At least, it is now, Carina.”
“Not Italian?” Selina teased him.
“France has the most beautiful women.” Damian kissed her hand. “You are proof of that.”
Selina picked up the champagne bottle. “You finish making your special dinner, then I’ll show you what we’ll have for dessert.”
The sauce was simmering on the stove as Damian put the pasta
in the pot of boiling water. “Carina, you have not tried the dressing yet.”
“You said you wanted to surprise me,” she reminded him.
“That is true,” Damian admitted, “but I think we’ve waited long enough.” He tore a piece of lettuce off and dipped it in the dressing. “What do you think?”
She took a bite and nodded. “I can taste the lemon…and the sea salt. Dill, tarragon, but there’s something else.”
“My secret ingredient,” Damian replied. “I added a little chopped basil that I had left over while making the sauce.”
“Why is it you won’t let me try this sauce of yours?” Selina raised an eyebrow. “I’ve never known anyone to be so secretive about their spaghetti.”
“You will have to wait a little longer.” Damian smiled. “No sauce is complete without the pasta.”
Selina had a feeling he was talking about more than food, but she just smiled. “I can be patient.”
“Sometimes,” Damian replied.
As Selina started to object, he pulled her into a kiss. After a few moments, he let her go. “Shall we continue this later?”
“That depends on how good your sauce is.” Selina picked up their wine glasses. “I’ll refill these while you finish the pasta.”
As Damian set the plates on the table, his cell phone rang. Ignoring it, he sat down and lifted his wine glass. “To you, Carina. You are always beautiful, but in this candlelight you are breathtaking.”
Selina smiled and lifted her glass. “To the first of many dinners cooked by the most romantic man I’ve ever met.”
They toasted and Damian’s phone rang again. At Selina’s look he shook his head. “If it were important, they would text me. Now, tell me what you think of the sauce.”
Eat Your Heart Out: A Romance Charity Anthology Page 56