Bewitched (Betwixt & Between #2) - Darynda Jones Page 0,20
drenching us in total darkness.
My eyes rounded to the size of my dessert plate. I was certain of it. “Did you do that?”
He laughed, the sound low and husky, and my nether regions flooded with molten lava. “That was all you and your nonexistent powers.”
“Maybe it was Percy.”
“Right.” Tilting his head, he moved closer.
I parted my knees to make room for him, and his lean hips slid between my legs, the fit perfect. With me sitting on the counter, I was a couple of inches taller than him. I liked it.
He leaned in, brushed his lips along my jaw, stopping at my ear.
I marveled at the fact even the softest touch from him caused a trembling in my core. And that he smelled like soap and soft, earthy aftershave.
“If you light one candle”—his warm breath fanned across my cheek—“I’ll make you breakfast in the morning. Anything you want.”
What if I wanted him for breakfast? “You got it. Do you have a match?”
A humorous sigh escaped him. “With your gift.”
“Oh, it’s a gift now?” His face was a gift. “I’m not so sure I agree.”
He nibbled on my earlobe, and my girl parts clenched in reflex, which was odd considering they were nowhere near my ears. “You’re five seconds away from losing out on French toast and a seafood omelet.”
“It’s sad how appealing that sentence is.”
“Four.”
I closed my eyes and reveled in the feel of him. “Wait. I’m concentrating.”
“Three.”
“Maybe if you did the ear thing again.”
“Two,” he said, then nipped.
I sucked in a soft breath.
“One.”
“Can I call a timeout?”
He released a deep, throaty laugh that washed over me like cool water as he stood back and said, “I win.”
The lids I didn’t remember closing fluttered open, and I wanted to cry when a cool rush of air hit me in his absence. Then his words sank in. I looked around, scrambled off the counter, and almost fell to the ground. Every candle was lit. Every. Single. One. They bathed Roane in a soft glow, and as alluring as that was, I didn’t do it.
“That wasn’t me,” I said, backing away.
“You’re the only witch here.”
“No.” I took another step back, shaking my head. “This wasn’t me.”
He nodded, crossed his arms over his chest, and perched his lean frame against the counter I’d just deserted. “Whatever helps you sleep at night, gorgeous.”
I ran like the coward I was. I hurried up the stairs and hid under the covers, boots and all. Ruthie would kill me if she knew.
“That wasn’t me, right, Percy?” I put my hand outside the blanket I’d pulled up to my chin.
A vine curled up the side of the bed and around my wrist and palm.
I brought it to my cheek, closed my eyes, and fell asleep, wondering if I’d ever actually woken up at all.
Five
Four out of Five dentists agree:
lying through your teeth does NOT count as flossing.
-Meme
What seemed like five seconds later, I jerked awake to find a curly-haired, cat-eyed bibliophile reading on the bed beside me and an actual cat, albeit a tattered one, curled up in her lap.
Annette sat against my headboard in an old T-shirt and a pair of sweats so holey they could be nominated for sainthood. “Percy let me in,” she said without looking up from her book.
I tried to wiggle to a sitting position, but my butt still weighed too much, as it often did before coffee. Also, I was wearing boots. In bed. And the sheets had clearly fused with them. “How long was I out this time?”
“I don’t know. What time did you go to bed?”
“No clue.” I reached over and gave Ink’s ears a scrubbing. “I thought you two didn’t get along.”
She looked over her book, a vampire story she’d read at least a dozen times. “We didn’t. But we’ve had six months to rethink our relationship.”
I tried once again to ease to a sitting position. The sheets were simply not having it. “I totally should’ve taken off my boots first.”
“There’s a reason most people do. I have an idea.”
“Uh-oh.”
“Unless you’re going to be too busy packing, what with the big move and all.”
She’d evidently blown past denial and slid solidly into anger with seconds to spare. I ignored her mini-rant. “Does it involve baby dills or glitter paint?”
“Not this time.” She flattened the book against her chest. “I know what you need.”
“A lobotomy?”
“A manicure.”
“So close.”
“There’s nothing like a mani-pedi to ease tension. Your powers will be back in no time.”