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She nodded again and then, with a twinkle in her eye and a quick, “Have fun you two,” she left.
Aiden glanced at me. “Is there something I’m missing?”
I grinned. “You know all those potions that cascaded over us earlier?”
“It’s kind of hard to ignore them given the wretched stuff is all I can smell.”
“Yeah, well, they were mostly lust and sexual empowerment potions.” I glanced at my watch. “And we probably have another half hour or so before they truly start working.”
He looked amused. “I don’t actually need lust potions when I’m around you. Besides, do those things actually work?”
“Done properly, yes. And, given the sheer amount that tipped over us, let’s just say things could get very hard and heated very fast.”
“Seriously?”
“Seriously.”
“Then we’d better hurry up and get out of here.”
He grabbed the tape out of the recorder and the photos he’d printed off. Once the rest of the building was secure, we headed back to the truck.
“It’s just over half hour to Argyle from here,” he said, as he reversed out. “And you’ve still got your overnight bag at my place, haven’t you?”
“Yes, but we really could be pushing your self-control.”
“I think we’ve already established I have none where you’re concerned. Besides, it’s not just me that was hit by that muck.”
“No, but you shielded me from the worst if it.”
“And in payment for being chivalrous, I’m going to be hit by a gigantic wave of uncontrollable lust? How wonderful.” He paused, his expression thoughtful. “Will it help the situation if we wash it off quickly enough?”
“Yes, as most love and lust potions are designed to drink. It’s only thanks to the volume that fell on us—or you—that it’ll have any effect.” I studied him for a moment. “Why?”
“Because there’s an old swimming hole not far from here. It used to be quite popular before the farmer got shitty about the sheer number of people using it and fenced off the entire area.” His glanced at me, his eyes twinkling and his desire becoming more evident. “But we can climb over the fence easily enough and it’s a warm enough night for a swim.”
“Are they any critters in this water?”
He raised his eyebrows. “That depends on what sort of critters we’re talking about.”
“You know—fish, yabbies, snakes, eels—slimy things that bite, basically.”
He laughed. “I daresay there’ll be yabbies, but they generally don’t make a habit of feeding on toes.”
“That’s not comforting.”
“It’ll be fine, I promise.”
I harrumphed. He laughed again and hit the accelerator. Ten minutes later, we were pulling off the road into a well-treed area. The fence was a six-foot wire mesh thing that was certainly designed to keep people out.
“Isn’t what we’re about to do basically breaking and entering?”
He walked around to the back of the truck. “The farmer’s a friend. He’ll understand.”
“I hope so.” I studied the fence for a moment then added, “I am not going to get my butt over that very easily.”
“I’ll boost you.”
He slammed the back of his truck down and locked it up. He had a picnic blanket, a towel, and what looked to be a fresh shirt and a pair of tracksuit pants all slung over one shoulder. My overnight bag was slung over the other.
