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“Because the ringing of a church bell woke me up, and then my instincts kicked in and discovered evil.” I met his gaze evenly. “Trust me, I’d rather have been partying or otherwise enjoying myself than following that thing’s foul trail and finding a body at the end of it.”
“I can imagine.” He paused again. “Can I also ask if you’ve changed your mind about going out with me?”
“No.” I couldn’t keep the surprise out of my voice. “But I thought you might have.”
The smile that teased his lips was decidedly sexy. “And why would you think that when I’ve been in this café nearly every single day since you got out of the hospital?”
“Well, we do have the most amazing brownies that you seem to have developed a strong addiction to.”
His smile became full-blown, and it swept his features from ordinary to extraordinary in a heartbeat. “The brownies, as amazing as they are, do not hold half the appeal of a certain crimson-haired witch.”
“Ah,” I said, with a silly grin. “Good. But why would you think I’d changed my mind about our date?”
“Because in the many weeks that
I’ve been coming here, you made no mention of it.”
Told you, Belle said. He was waiting for you to make the next move. He’s a patient man, this wolf of yours.
I glanced up with a smile of thanks as Penny, our waitress, deposited a pot of tea and a cup in front of me. Like most of the items in the café, we’d salvaged them from various secondhand stores, and they all had a history and a presence the sensitive could feel. While most people wouldn’t believe something as simple as a cup could make any sort of difference to a person’s mood, I knew from experience the wrong choice could swiftly change a situation from good to bad. In this particular case, however, Belle’s cup of choice was a Christmas one decorated with mistletoe—a not-so-subtle hint to the ranger that he should just get on with kissing me.
I poured my tea and then said, “That’s because I was waiting for you to say something.”
“Why? I took the initial step. You’re supposed to take the next one.”
I grinned. “Except I’m an old-fashioned type of girl.”
“Meaning a little pursuit never goes astray?”
“Indeed. A girl likes to be sure there is true interest, especially when the man in question has an acknowledged hate of witches.”
“One that seems to have dissipated rather quickly since your arrival on the reservation.” He caught my hand in his, raised it to his lips, and kissed it. It was little more than a tease—a brief brush of lips across my palm—and yet it promised so much. He almost immediately released me, but the heat of it lingered.
“Well then,” he said, “let the hunt begin.”
I licked my lips—an action his gaze followed rather avidly—and said, “When?”
“Tonight? I’m feeling the desire to make up for wasted time.”
A desire I could totally get behind. “What time?”
“I’m rostered on until eight, so around nine? There’s a lovely bar in—” He hesitated, his gaze moving past me. “Can I ask why Belle is currently grinning like a Cheshire cat?”
“Because,” I said, without even looking at her, “she was saying only last night that men sometimes needed to be clubbed over the head with the obvious. I think she’s feeling vindicated.”
“Ah.” His watch beeped, and he glanced down at it. “I’ve got a meeting I have to get to. Will you be able to come to the station sometime this afternoon and make an official statement?”
“I can once we close here.”
“Thanks. Tala will be around to take it if I’m not there.”
Tala was from the Sinclair pack, and his second-in-command. She was also a woman unafraid of being forthright with an opinion, and one I suspected you wouldn't want to be on the wrong side of.
But then, that could be said of most werewolves.
Not to mention quite a few witches, Belle said. You and I just happen to be extraordinary exceptions.
My parents might disagree with that.
