The Werewolf Dates The Deputy - Kristen Painter Page 0,38
Titus. Okay, involved was probably too big a word for what was happening, but she wasn’t about to speak it out loud. Anyway, that feeling had to come from the spell, but it felt real.
Or was it? Could it be real even if it was magic-induced?
She didn’t know and didn’t have time to dwell on the question longer than it took her to shower, dry her hair, and put a little makeup on. Titus wanted to leave by six thirty, and she was not going to make him late.
Normally, she’d wear her uniform, but since she wasn’t going to be at the sheriff’s department or on patrol, that didn’t seem like the right choice.
Technically, she wasn’t going to be officially on duty again until the spell was lifted. She was still free to work on figuring out who’d set that bomb—and how the wraith played into it—but she didn’t need to be in uniform to do that.
Because of that, she settled on skinny jeans, then grabbed the first T-shirt on top of the stack she’d brought, along with a cardigan in case the firehouse was chilly. To that, she added a belt and cute flats.
She checked the time. She had twenty minutes before they left. Was that enough time to have some coffee here? She realized she could smell some, which hopefully meant he’d made a pot.
She went out to the kitchen and found him standing by the window, drinking from a cup. “Morning. Is there more of that?”
He nodded without turning. “I made a whole pot.”
“Thank Freya,” she muttered.
“Mugs are in the cabinet above. You need sugar or creamer?”
“Just sugar, but I can go without if you don’t have it.”
“Same cabinet.” He looked at her. “Didn’t you sleep well?”
She got a mug down and found a small white container of sugar packets that looked like they’d come from Howler’s. “Tossed and turned a bit. Weird dreams. Lot on my mind, you know.”
“I know. Had a bit of that myself.”
She added two packets of sugar, then filled the mug with coffee and turned to lean on the counter as she took her first sip. She closed her eyes and let the coffee reach her soul before attempting further communication.
She opened her eyes at the sound of Titus’s soft chuckle. “What?”
He shook his head, his expression morphing from pure amusement to the most innocent of faces. “Nothing. How’s the coffee?”
“Good. Really strong, which is how I like it.”
“Isn’t that the standard sheriff’s department brew?”
She smiled. “Pretty much. Your brother likes it strong enough to work a shift on its own.”
“And then there’s Birdie.”
“She loves her fancy coffee, doesn’t she? Good thing there’s lots of that to choose from in town. I think she’s got her own account at the Hallowed Bean.”
“I think you’re right.” Titus glanced past her. “Almost time to go.”
“It won’t take me long to drink this. Unless you have a travel cup I can put it in?”
“Take your time.” He winked. “You have three minutes.”
“Gee, thanks, Merrow.” She rolled her eyes good-naturedly, then took another big sip of her coffee.
“You’re welcome, Blythe. I’m going to brush my teeth, then I’ll see you in the truck.”
She gave him a thumbs-up since she was still drinking. After he left, she took one more big sip, then put the cup in the sink and went to brush her teeth a second time. Coffee breath wasn’t conducive to kissing. Which was totally the spell talking.
She rushed through brushing her teeth in an attempt to stop thinking about kissing, a wholly unsuccessful endeavor, then went straight out to the truck. She had to get it together. She was going to be with him all day!
Titus locked the house before joining her. He smelled so good. That wasn’t helping.
As he pulled out of the driveway and headed for the exit, the look of amusement returned to his face. “Nice T-shirt, by the way. You are definitely going to make some friends today.”
She glanced down only to realize why he’d been grinning so hard in the kitchen earlier. She’d inadvertently put on the T-shirt Tessa had given her for her last birthday.
The one that proudly proclaimed I ♥ Real American Firefighters.
Jenna groaned, but Titus laughed heartily. He’d been holding it in since the kitchen. “Hey, as a real American firefighter, I love that you love us.”
She pressed the palm of her hand to her forehead. “I didn’t mean to wear this shirt. I just grabbed the first one in my bag,” she groused. “I didn’t