Page 7 of Witches and Wine
“She’s not. She’s just a mortal woman who is a public relations specialist and has a stick up her ass that I’ve been trying to dislodge to no avail for the past several months.” Smirking, I swigged back half my drink.
Hermes rubbed his hand over the newly grown hair on his chin. “That’s part of it, isn’t it? The challenge? The chase?”
My horns itched beneath my skin at his words.
“You know I love a good chase, and I’m a fuckingmasterat it. She doesn’t want that.” I sliced my hand through the air for extra emphasis, finished my tankard, and punched my fingers against the bar, signaling for another.
“Do you know that for certain? Have you asked?” Hermes gave me his full attention but still couldn’t help smiling and winking at a female deer shifter ogling him from a corner table.
“Yeah, Herm, I flat out asked her if she wanted to be chased like a breeding animal.” I spread my legs wider, snatching the tankard as soon as it hit the bar top, and changed it into ambrosia wine as it guzzled down my throat.
The very idea of letting my inner beast roam free with Chelsea had my cock half-stiffening in my godsdamned jeans.
“I think you’re going about this the wrong way. You’re used to females falling at your feet without the need to charm them beyond a smile and a crook of your finger.” Hermes turned in hisstool, facing me now but still giving the femme shifter knowing glances.
“You act as if you have to do much else, asshole,” I scoffed, elbowing him in the chest.
Hermes rubbed his sternum, and after punching me in the shoulder, he answered, “True. But any mortal woman I’ve been with has been purely carnal. If that’s all you wanted with this woman, it would’ve either happened already, or you would’ve moved on.”
I fucking hated him.
Hunching my shoulders, I brooded over the bar top. “What’s your point, Hermes?”
“Dionysus, my godly brother—” Hermes stood and patted my shoulders. “—adapt and overcome. Re-evaluate your strategy and be forthcoming with her. She’d probably appreciate it.”
My face contorted into an expression I could only imagine resembled someone who’d witnessed the birth of a centaur. Before I had the chance to make a wiseass comment, however, Hermes slapped my back, shoved his hands in his pockets, and sauntered to the lady shifter.
Dragging my hand over my face, I spied the ornate clock hanging on the back wall displaying an alarming almost two in the morning. “Fuck. I need to close the club. Hermes, do you?—”
Hermes waved me off, the shifter already perched on his lap. “I’ll handle the tab, Dion.”
First giving me sage advice, now offering to cover the bill? Who was this guy?
Heading outside, I flicked my collar from the brisk wind that’d picked up. It couldn’t decide on a direction and had my long hair flying in flurries of darkness over my eyes. I’d walked three of the six blocks it took to reach the club, and a figure emerging fromTobias’s Smoke and CigarShopgave me pause.Frustratingly, I slapped my hair from my gaze, focusing on the body—curvy, pale skin,redhair.
My heart throttled into a gallop before seizing for a beat in my chest.
Absently removing my phone, I typed up a quick message to Tambie.
Me
Close up for me tonight, will you?
Tambie
Seriously, boss? That’d be the fourth time this week.
Me
You can have tomorrow off.
Tambie
DONE.
Gulping, I slipped the phone back into my pocket and stared in front of me.
Chelsea fucking Stewart was in Arcane Cove, and she was mere meters away from me.
