Page 68 of Potions and Proposals
“Curiosity. You’ve always had your nose in a book. Walking to school, coffee shops, in the park, by the town fountain– the world could crumble around you when you’re reading, and you wouldn’t even notice,” he admitted.
“But why buy them?” She walked past him to the shelf.
“I wanted to know what inspired your undivided attention.”
“I never knew you paid such close attention. You didn’t read all of them, did you?” She blushed a little, the red hue highlighting the freckles he loved.
“Of course. Even the smutty ones,” he whispered over her shoulder.
“I wish I could’ve seen your reactions,” she said, running her hand along the spines. The ring he’d given her, gleaming in the candlelight, reminded him that she would be his soon. He swallowed his desire to reach out and take her hand in his own to make sure the moment was real.
“You aren’t as innocent as I thought.”
“No one ever is,” Lucinda muttered, lowering the ice pack. She turned around, staring up at him through her long lashes.
Benedict watched her chew her lower lip and found that he couldn’t remember what they’d been talking about. He slipped his fingers into her hair. Thankfully, the bump had gone down. “Better?”
“Much.”
He let his fingertips graze the back of her neck, afraid she’d bolt at any moment.
“Don’t leave town again without telling me?” Lucinda spoke in a whisper, but the words pierced him more than any insult could have. She placed a hand on his chest, no doubt able to feel his pounding heart. In return, he rested his forehead against hers, as though some force was pulling them together.
“Never,” he promised.
She nodded, her eyes focused on his lips. His lips brushed her cheek– a test, a question– and her sharp intake of breath was music to his ears. She closed her eyes; he ran his thumb down the side of her neck, tipping her jaw up towards him. The scent of her strawberry lipgloss held him in a vice grip. He could almost taste her sweetness.
“If it isn’t my favourite couple.”
The two of them jumped apart to find Peter sitting on the trunk by the bed.
“I’m not interrupting, am I?” he teased, crunching loudly into an apple. “Juicy.”
Benedict glared at his brother, who obviously wasn’t talking about the apple.If he wasn’t already dead, I’d strangle him.
“No – I was just collecting the cloaks for our binding ritual,” Lucinda babbled.
“Binding cloaks! How official. Have you sent out your invitations yet? I don’t exactly have a postage address.”
Benedict watched Lucinda roll her eyes. “Don’t worry, you’re invited to the reception, but the ritual itself is for coven members only.”
Hearing her talk about the ritual as though it was something they’d decided for themselves did nothing to settle Benedict’s heart rate, nor did her smile at his brother. That she accepted Peter without question meant more to him than he could ever admit.
“Pity– I never made it that far,” Peter said, getting up to wrap an arm around her shoulder. “Who could love a Grim such as me?”
Benedict clenched his jaw, noticing how she didn’t shy away from his brother’s touch.
“I’m sure you’ll find someone to annoy for eternity,” she said. “I bet there’s someone at the Grim office dying for you to make a move.”
“Pardon the pun,” Peter said, nudging her. Lucy shoved him away playfully. “I’d be lucky to find someone, like you two have found each other.” He gave Benedict a knowing look.
Time to put an end to this interaction.Benedict went to the trunk and lifted out suit bags containing the cloaks. They were a little on the dusty side, but he’d done his best to brush off any cobwebs. He could barely hold back a smile as he held them out to Lucinda. During the vampire wedding, he’d been struck with sudden inspiration and texted Lucinda’s mum to ask if she would mind him wearing the Hawthorne cloak instead of the traditional Matherson one. Lucinda was more important to him than any archaic tradition, and he wanted the exchange of cloaks to be a sign of their equal partnership. He was joining the Hawthorne family as much as she was joining his. No rule stated he couldn’t wear hers – it just hadn’t been done before, which tended to make people nervous. But he had the High Priestess’s permission, and that was all he needed.
He couldn’t wait to see her in the Matherson navy, or her reaction to him in the Hawthorne cloak. Wilhelmina had already dropped by and taken his measurements. He wondered if the High Priestess had told Gwendoline about his plan and that was why she’d sent Lucinda over.
“Great, thank you. I’ll get going; I’m sure you two have some catching up to do.” Lucinda threw the suit bags over her arm.
“You don’t have to go,” Peter said, following her to the door. Benedict pulled at his arm to stop him.“Did you tell her about the crone with the pickled fingers in a—?”
