Magical Midlife Dating - K.F. Breene Page 0,30

beard. He laughed. “What a trip.” He squinted at me and turned his face to the side, mockingly suspicious. “Are you pulling my leg? You are, aren’t you? You’re poking fun because I’m so curious.”

I put up my hands. “No, honest. I swear.” I laughed, my tension from earlier dripping away. He seemed so normal. Non-magical, curious, no idea what went bump in the night… The most he had to worry about was a house payment or rent, bills, dating—normal life stuff. He didn’t have to think about flying, or warding off advances from promiscuous creatures, or a crazy house, or learning magic. He didn’t have to worry about the danger I felt drawing ever nearer, or whether Austin would soon find out the hard way that he was not, in fact, the biggest, baddest alpha on the block. Or wonder what would happen to the rest of us if our fearless protector fell.

I sipped my wine, relieved for this one moment. Relieved for this return to my old normal, if only for a night. This was one of the reasons I’d wanted to date a Dick.

“Wow!” He leaned back as our plates arrived. “I probably shouldn’t ask this, because I don’t want to open a can of worms, but…is it haunted?”

I told him about the room of dolls, obviously leaving out the detail that they came alive. Working through our dinners, we spoke about little things, the conversation starting and stopping as we navigated the waters of small talk, working around to hobbies and things we did for fun. It wasn’t until we started talking about what we did for a living that the conversation came to a screeching halt.

“Oh…uh…” I laid down my fork and blotted my mouth, my plate nearly empty and my belly completely stuffed. “I actually came into some money recently, so right now I’m mostly concerning myself with…working on the house.”

It wasn’t a total lie. Working on my magic was similar to working on the house.

“Oh, yeah? Hmm.” He nodded. “What…uh… Does it need much work, or…”

“Quite a bit, actually,” I said. His eyebrows drew together in a troubled expression. “I kind of have to start from— What is it?”

I turned around to see what had given him such a constipated look.

Cedric walked our way, his dress shirt and slacks snug enough to show off his thick, corded muscle, his wings flaring out weirdly from beneath his thin jacket, and his expression hard as nails. His dark gaze pounded into Ron, clearly freezing him up and making him incredibly uncomfortable.

I put out my hand, facing Ron with a comforting smile. “That’s just my…cousin. He’s staying with me for a bit. You know, to sort out the house. I forgot my clutch when I walked out—he’s just bringing it for me.”

The clutch filled my waiting palm.

I smiled again and slipped it under the table.

“Thanks,” I said to Cedric, giving him a fleeting glance. I did a double take when I caught his look of death, still pounding into poor Ron. The unveiled threat was plain, as was the effect—Ron’s face looked ashen.

“Don’t mind him,” I told Ron, the lies coming faster now. “He’s an MMA fighter.” I said over my shoulder, “I said thanks. You can go now.”

I barely caught Cedric shaking his head as he turned away. Movement by the door caught my attention before I could turn back—Alek. His stare was on Ron, too, his threat just as plain.

“My other cousin. They’re—”

Mr. Tom’s head leaned into the frame of the window, the shades not pulled, sadly. A bowler hat covered his head, wire-rimmed glasses circled his eyes, and the collar of his trench coat was turned up, partially obscuring his face.

Ron’s head turned slowly until he locked eyes with Mr. Tom.

After one tense beat, Mr. Tom slowly leaned back out of the window frame.

“I, uh…” What the hell could I say about that one? “My family is…odd.”

Ron’s head turned back. He dropped his hands into his lap, moving ever so slowly as if worried a fast movement might summon one of my “cousins.”

Gritting my teeth, I turned long enough to frantically wave Cedric and Alek away, then gave Ron a large, hopefully calming smile. “I’m so sorry about that. They’re just…”

“Protective?” Ron asked, his gaze flicking toward the door before he glanced the other way, probably looking to see if Mr. Tom was peeping at us again.

“I was going to say overbearing. My…cousins only got here tonight. They haven’t really acclimated yet.”

“You’re kind

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