Page 47 of Witches and Wine
Why was it that whenever it came to matters of the heart, everyone else around you fucking knew better than you?
I smacked my lips together and let my expression fall neutral. “You’re diverting the subject.”
“Damn straight I am. If Dagnar doesn’t wise up to her succubus ways, then quite frankly, he’s not the kind of male I want to be with anyway. I can wait.” Tambie shrugged and propped her booted feet on the table. “What happened? Did she get weirded out with our escapades in the woods?”
I groaned. Tambie had to bringthatup and entice memories to warp back in droves. “No. She was more than fine with it. She’d probably ask to go there repeatedly.”
Tambie’s brows quirked, and she flopped her feet to the floor. “Well, then, what in the Seven Hells is the problem?”
“I don’t know.” I punched the butt of my fist against the table. “She won’t talk to me.”
Tambie crawled across the table to flick me between the eyes. “Thenmakeher Dion. And I don’t mean hog tie her and treat it like a torture interrogation. I mean tell her you want to talk. Refuse to leave until she does.”
“Ow,” I mumbled, rubbing my forehead. “I’ve talked my way out of harrowing situations with giant monsters, convinced kings to do obscene things, and delivered punishments I’m almost ashamed of. So, why is this witch so difficult for me to deal with, Tambie?”
Tambie let out a fluttering sigh before sitting. “Because she’s yours. It’s not supposed to be easy.”
It was subtle, but I caught her fleeting glance in Dagnar’s direction at that last point.
“Thanks, old friend.” I squeezed Tambie’s arm. “And I mean that. I don’t say it enough.”
Tambie giggled and yanked her limb from my grasp. “I said go get your woman, not go all soft on me, D.”
“Fine.” I stood. “But if this blows up in my face, I’m making you work doubles at the club.”
Tambie’s eyes sparkled like they always had when she was about to counter me. “And if it works out, you give me an extra week’s vacation of my choosing.”
“You know you could just ask for that? You don’t have to bargain for it.”
Tambie shrugged and stuck out her hand. “Sure. But this makes it more fun.”
“Alright, you have a deal.” We shook, and I slid the full mug of ale toward her. “And finish this for me, will you? Something tells me Dagnar will get more of a kick out of seeing you drink it.”
“Oh, yeah?” A flirty grin crested Tambie’s lips as she wrapped her hands around the mug.
“And make sure to lick the foam off your lips slow and deliberate, yeah?”
Tambie tossed me an exasperated glare. “I donotneed you to school me on how to flirt.”
“Sure, you don’t,” I teased, patting the top of her head as I headed for the exit.
She turned in her seat and shouted, “I don’t.”
“Sure,” I quickly yelled back before ducking out the door.
There wasn’t much I knew about being mates with someone, but I did know they often shared a strange form of unspoken communication. It was as if you had an internal tracking beamto know their location at all times. Which was great and all, but fuck if I knew how todoit. Pausing on the sidewalk, I closed my eyes and thought of her. My Chelsea. My wicked little witch.
It started as a tingle at the base of my spine, traveling to my head. Her voice whispered into my ear as if she stood a breath away from me.
“Riley, what am I supposed to do?”
And just like that, because of a ferret, I knew where she was and ported straight to the middle of her living room without a passing thought.
Chelsea yelped and grabbed a pillow from the couch she was sitting on, dragging it over herself like she was naked. Much to my dismay, she wasn’t, given the tight pants and tank top she wore, but it was better for my concentration that shewasfully clothed.
“Chels, we’re going to talk, and we’re going to talknow.” I ground my teeth and swallowed down my pride. This was Chelsea. She deserved every part of me. “Please.”
I’d wishedfor nothing more than Dion to be here at that precise moment, and here he was. It did nothing for my fear that my magic was controlling him somehow. Riley leaped from my lap, circling Dion’s body until he landed on his shoulder, those tiny paws pressing to his cheek. It was enough to make me wonder—Riley was my familiar, my bonded animal, so why was he so attuned to Dionysus?
