Page 17 of Witches and Wine
Apollo turned and headed for the exit right as an ogre entered the diner. His skin was a pale green,with two large curved tusks sticking out from his bottom lip. He had to duck to fit through the doorway. I sprung to action, purposely scooting past Chelsea and moving to the spot across from her, keeping her attention away from the obvious before I had a chance to tell her.
And that time wasnow.
Laughingat Dion playing musical chairs, I playfully shoved his shoulder. “What are you doing?”
“Going on a date with you.” Dion pointed down, beckoning me to sit.
Slowly, I obliged, sinking to my seat and eyeing him warily. “Here? Right now?”
“Why not? This place has the best burgers in town.” Dion raised his arm and turned his attention to the man behind the counter. “Marty, two specials, one with extra mustard and a chocolate milkshake, would ya?”
“You got it, D,” the man replied gruffly.
Powering off the tablet, I slipped it into my purse and folded my hands on the table. “I love chocolate milkshakes.”
“I know.” Dion grinned and pressed his forearms to the table, bringing his sultry stare closer to me.
I’d taken a moment to appreciate how different from Apollo he looked sitting across from me. Dion carried himselfdifferently. Apollo was clearly an attractive man, but Dion had a sort of feral energy about him—his sexy, unkempt hair, the beard, the tattoos. If I hadn’t known any better, I’d label him as one of those shifters in a paranormal romance novel—the alpha kind who became crazed to claim their mates and mark them as theirs. The thought made my core tighten.
“Did I tell you that at some point?” I rubbed my thumbs together.
Dion chuckled and finger-walked across the table until his rough terra cotta hand found mine, and he grazed my skin. “You did. I believe it was a random text at two in the morning saying that you could really go for a chocolate milkshake right about now.”
Heat pooled in my face, and I slapped a hand over my eyes. “Ugh. The things I’ve felt compelled to text you these past few months.”
Dion’s fingers brushed my knuckles, and he gently lowered my hand. “And I’ve felt privileged to receive every one of them, Chels.” He pinned me with his gaze, my ass melting into the seat and ever so slowly, then brought my knuckles to his mouth, kissing my skin.
A raspy breath escaped my throat, and I nibbled my lip.
“There’s something I need to tell you, and it may come as a bit of a shock, but all I’m asking is for you to keep an open mind. Alright?” Dion caressed my hand with his bottom lip, back and forth, all while keeping his eyes focused on mine.
Such an ominous introduction should’ve made me far more worried to hear what he had to say. Between the strokes from his lips against my knuckles and the lust and intrigue dancing circles in his dark eyes, he could’ve told me the world was ending tomorrow, and I couldn’t say I’d panic about it.
“Okay,” I whispered, offering him a reassuring smile.
He lowered our hands to the table and held out an open palm to take both of mine with his. “That’s my girl.”
His girl. What I wouldn’t give to have that label, and yet I’d stupidly fought it all this time.
“What’s up, Dion? You can tell me anything.” I squeezed his hands.
Dion made languid strokes on the tops of my hands with his calloused thumbs. “Take a look around you, Red. And I mean really look. Tell me what you see.”
If any other person had asked me to do the same thing, I would’ve paused to ask the why of it before succumbing, but not with Dion. He’d always been my singular act of impulsivity until I decided to up and move to Arcane Cove. Thinking back on it, though, I’d say part of that was a little voice in my head telling me to just fucking do it—Dion’s voice.
Clearing my throat, I sat up straight and pivoted around the diner. “I see tables, chairs, and windows. A young couple in the opposite corner from us, both with long, straight hair. One has—” I paused after taking in the details. “—pointed ears.” Confusion pulled my glance to Dion to confirm it, and he gave a reassuring nod to continue. “Um, an older woman is sitting by herself reading a book, and sitting at the bar is a man with—” Staring at him at first, I gulped. “—green skin and tusks? Dion, what?—”
Dion tightened his grip on my hands and pulled me toward him, my elbows sliding across the table. “Think about it. That couple in the corner? Elves. The older woman? A banshee. The green fellow? An ogre. The owner here, Marty? He’s a walrus shifter. A Greek god is sitting across from you, and another just signed on to be your client.”
When I tried to sit back, Dion held on tighter and wouldn’t let me budge, grounding me. The bakery shop owner—when she said she sprinkled it with magic—shemeantit.
“So, what are you trying to say? This place? The Cove? It’s full of mythical, magical beings?” I clenched my knees together under the table to keep them from bouncing.
“Yes, andnohumans. There are wards guarding this place that don’t allow them entry.” Dion said the last few words slower and more deliberately.
My breathing grew shallow, and my heartbeat throttled into a gallop. “Then how did I get—” A tightness coiled in my throat, and I suddenly couldn’t blink. “Oh,” I breathed out. “Oh.”
“Oh,” Dion repeated, tilting his head to the side to study me.
