Flipping the Bird (Shift Creek #1) - Carrie Pulkinen Page 0,27

a gentleman kiss on the first date?”

His gaze lowered to her lips. “Only if the lady wants him to.”

“She does.”

Cupping her cheek in his hand, he leaned down, brushing his mouth to hers. His face was freshly shaven, free of stubble, and his lips felt like velvet against hers. When his mouth opened, his tongue teasing her lips apart, she couldn’t stop the whimper from escaping her throat.

He placed his other hand on the small of her back, and she went for it, closing the distance between them, pressing her body to his. If she wasn’t going to get lucky tonight, he at least needed to know what he’d be missing.

A masculine grunt emanated from his throat as he held her closer, and she let her hands wander over his shoulders, taking in as much sinew as she could through his jacket. The man was built.

With a deep inhale, she broke the kiss, stepping back and tracing a single finger down his chest. “I hope I’m leaving you wanting more.”

His eyes smoldered as he grinned. “So much more.”

“Good. I’ll see you Monday.”

Chapter Eight

Donovan couldn’t remember a time when his heart had felt so light. Not only did his date with Alice end with enough heat to burn him to ash, but he’d learned more about his ancestors than his father ever cared for him to know.

Yesterday, he’d made a deal to acquire the magic-bottling artifact, and it was on its way to Texas. The warlock in possession of the enchanted trowel didn’t want to part with it, but Donovan had a few tricks up his sleeve. With a little research on the man, he could figure out his desires and find an item that would be a tempting trade.

Now, as he sat at the sidewalk table in front of the coffee shop, waiting for Shifted Treasures to open, the morning sun warmed his face, and he smiled.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Marty jumped onto the table and sat upright on his haunches. “Flowers yesterday, and now coffee this morning? Seems desperate to me.”

“There’s nothing desperate about showing a woman you care.”

“There’s certainly not,” the barista purred as she set a drink holder with three paper cups on the table. She appeared in her mid-fifties, and she wore bright red lipstick and enough perfume to give Marty a run for his money in the stench department. “Here’s your order, hon. If it doesn’t work out with your girl, I’m available.”

“Thank you, ma’am, but I intend to do everything in my power to make it work.”

“You know where I am.” She winked before turning on her heel, flipping her blonde hair over her shoulder, and strutting inside.

“Now, there’s a woman you can sink your teeth into,” Marty said. “Why not take her up on her offer?”

Donovan shook his head. “She’s a cougar. Both literal and figurative.” And probably one of the predator shifters who made Alice feel inferior.

“That’s never stopped you before.”

He sighed. Perhaps he could locate a female familiar for Marty. If the mongoose had a mate, he might stop trying to convince Donovan to sleep with every woman he saw. In his current magicless condition, he could never identify—much less tame—a wild familiar on his own, but he could contact the dealer his father purchased Marty from…

His hand clenched into a fist at the memory of receiving Marty as a gift when he was fifteen. Familiars should be found, not bought. The “gift” was meant to embarrass more than anything, and Donovan was lucky Marty had accepted his place alongside a warlock with no magic.

He shook his head to get rid of the memory. “My interest lies solely with Alice.”

“I don’t trust her.”

“You don’t know her.”

“She forced her magic on you.” He crossed his arms.

“That was an accident triggered by our undeniable connection.”

Marty blew a hard breath through his nostrils. “You don’t really believe you’ve got crow shifter blood, do you? That seems like something you’d have known about.”

“My father kept the entire town a secret from me, and I doubt he ever discussed it with my brothers. They weren’t even allowed to speak of their mother in his presence.”

“But none of them can shift.”

“As Alice said, the magic has been diluted over the generations. If my father knew about his lineage, he would not have made it public that his blood was tainted.” Alice was right about his family thinking themselves better than a crow. To admit that aspect of their bloodline would have humiliated his