Page 23 of Strike It Witch

The other shifters in the bar stopped what they were doing and reflexively tilted their heads to one side. They must’ve all been wolves, because they’d done it without thought or protest.

He drummed his fingers on the bar and struggled to get ahold of himself. It was almost as if the man had suppressed the power of his alpha side for so long it was starting to leak out.

Because I was the one who’d brought it out in him, and because I felt a little bad about it, I reached into the front pocket of my jeans and pulled out a slightly crushed lavender bud. I reached for Ronan’s hand and set the bud in his palm then placed my hand over it and infused the herb with intention.

“Keep it in your pocket. Use it like a worry stone.” I removed my hand and closed his fingers over the lavender. “Especially in the presence of your a-hole father.”

The change in Ronan was immediate. All signs of his wolf drained from his eyes and his shoulders lowered. The power in the bar dissipated, and the other patrons went back to drinking and chatting as if nothing out of the ordinary had occurred.

Wolves were weird.

“Thanks. For the lavender, not the insult to my father. You can do better than a-hole, Lennox.”

A smile broke through the frown I was trying to maintain. “Raging shitbeast?”

“Better.”

“Give me a break, I’ve gone through a lot of insults for your father over the last few years. Hard to be original at this point.”

He grinned. “And yet I’m sure you’ll come up with more.”

“Maybe I should keep a notepad by my bed in case inspiration strikes after a nightmare.”

“If it’s all the same to you, I’d prefer you not think of my father while in bed.”

I kept myself from asking what he’d rather I thought about, but it was a close thing. My mouth had a way of getting away from me in his presence. I might tease the man about being my second least favorite bar owner in town, but it was far from the truth.

“Go ahead. Ask.” Ronan gave me that flirty, knowing smile again. “Don’t be afraid.”

“I’m not afraid of anything. There’s just nothing to ask,” I lied.

“Betty, Betty, Betty.” He ducked his head so the others couldn’t hear. Except they did, because all three of them were shifters and could pick up an ant passing gas a mile underground. “This thing between us is going to come to a head someday, sweet witch. You’ll see.”

“There’s nothing between us but a bottle of water and a mug of coffee, Pallás.”

“Liar,” he drawled.

“Believe what you like.” Uncomfortable, I got to my feet and picked up my water and coaster. When his voice went warm and soft like that, my resistance to his flirting threatened to melt away. “My mobile home park has a place for Gladys. Rent is low, so she can afford it and still eat. Maybe you can wrangle permission from Daddy Dearest for her to move in.”

He winced. “Please don’t say ‘daddy’ when referring to my father. It hits wrong.”

“Tell you what. If you convince him to allow Gladys to move into the Siete Saguaros, I’ll say anything you like.”

Damn that grin. He let it creep across his lips slowly, sensuality in every curve. “Anything?”

I tapped the bar with one black-painted fingernail. “Wolf, if you can pull this off, I’ll stand on this bar in heels and a black lace minidress at eight o’clock on a Saturday night and proclaim you the sexiest man in town.”

His eyes lit up—this time with interest, not his wolf. “Will you wear that red flower in your hair, too?”

“I’ll wear whatever you like. The minidress was only a suggestion.”

“No, that part’s great.” Beads of sweat appeared on Ronan’s forehead. He shifted his feet and tugged on the waistband of his sweatpants. “Change nothing about that. Just add in the flower.”

“Deal.”

Gladys shot me two red-lacquered thumbs-ups from across the room, where she was wiping down the tables.

Ronan’s tone gentled. “I’ll talk to Alpha.”

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