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“Isabelle, stop!”
Whoa. There was some power behind that command and she instantly stopped fighting.
“You are not going back there. It’s dangerous. If you took a moment to think about it, you’d realize it’d be a really stupid thing to do.”
Shoot.
She took a deep breath in the cool air.
Remy was right. It would be stupid to get into the middle of a fight. The Wishing Well had seen its fair share of bar fights over the years. And Loki had been in a lot of them. He didn’t start them. But he never backed down from one.
And she knew that he wouldn’t be happy if she ever put herself in danger.
It was only because she felt so raw.
What if this time he had gone looking for a fight? Because of her? What if Ed arrested him? What if?—?
“Stop thinking so much.” Remy cupped her face with his hands. “Everything is going to be all right.”
She hoped so.
Now her head was thumping, her heart was aching, and there was glitter guilt in her tummy.
“There’s glitter in my tummy,” she whispered, rubbing it.
“What? You ate glitter?”
“No! Of course not. I wouldn’t do that unless it was edible glitter. But sometimes guilt feels like glitter moving in my tummy. It doesn’t feel nice.”
He tucked her into his chest. “I know, baby. I know it doesn’t. Come on, let’s get you home. You’re freezing. Shit. We forgot your jacket.”
“Oh, I don’t have one.”
“Isabelle,” he said warningly. “What did I tell you about going out without a jacket and gloves?”
“Um, well, I didn’t have time to go home after work. We came straight here.”
“You didn’t take a jacket to work?” he grumbled.
Oh hell.
“And you wore that to work?” he asked, staring down at her.
She glanced down at her cute silver dress. It had tassels and sequins on the top part and then the bottom of the skirt was feathers. It was freaking adorable even if she did say so herself.
“Um, no. I got Loki to bring it to work when he picked me up.”
And she’d awkwardly gotten changed in the backseat while he’d driven them to the Wishing Well.
“You asked him to bring you this dress, but didn’t think about asking for a jacket?”
Well, heck.
“I feel like the more I talk, the worse I make things. So maybe I’ll just be quiet now.” She mimed zipping her lips and throwing away the keys.
Grumbling, he picked her up and carried her to his truck. He held her on his hip, which had her ducking her head in against his chest with a mix of embarrassment and pleasure.
“Hey, where’s your jacket?” she asked.
