Page 9 of Witches and Wine
Potion-laced?
“I’m afraid I’m not that well versed on cigars. I hoped to find a typical pack of menthols?” Suddenly feeling the size of a field mouse, I scratched the back of my head and averted my gaze.
Tobias laughed and snapped his suspenders. “Not to worry. I keep those behind the desk.” He pulled open a drawer and placed the cigarette pack on the counter. “Will that be all for you?”
Tobias’s overly jubilant demeanor wasn’t fooling me. No doubt there was that little voice in the back of his head silently judging me and my poor taste.
“Yes. Will this cover it? You can keep the change.” I’d rushed the words, slapping several bills on the table and waiting.
Tobias’s eyes widened behind his glasses, and he slowly lifted the cash, using his short, wide fingers to comb through them. “My, my. I haven’t seen this currency in quite a long time.” He snapped his gaze to me over the rim of his spectacles. “Where are you from, dearie?”
Thiscurrency? Was I not still in America?
“Moved here a few days ago.” Flashing a quick grin, I swiped the cigarettes into my palm. “Thank you.”
Tobias chuckled, the sound of an old-school cash register’s drawer chiming open the last thing I heard before making it back to the reprieve of the sidewalk. Sighing, I pressed my back to thebuilding’s brick wall and fumbled with the wrapping on the pack. Flicking a single cigarette from it and resting it between my lips, I felt my pockets for the small lighter I’d always kept there.
Ugh. There were barely any pockets in these flipping yoga pants, let alone big enough to store a flipping lighter.
Something heavy pressed into my palm on the underside of the pack. Eyeing my hand warily, I turned it over to reveal a bright red lighter. I glanced around as if someone had managed to sneak it into my grasp without looking. Deciding that Tobias included it, I raised it to the cigarette, lit it, and took a few puffs. It irritated me how quickly one singular drag of a cigarette could relieve my rattled nerves and stress. I wanted to quit, I honestly did, but the results were hard to ignore.
It's when I opened my eyes that the nerves and borderline panic quickly returned. At first, I thought my vision was playing some cruel joke on me, but there was no mistaking that salty beach-wavy dark hair or the massive height of packed muscle. Dion. He washere.
“Chelsea?” Dion said, standing several feet from me with about as befuddled of an expression as I’m sure was plastered on my face. His gaze shifted to the cigarette smoke curling in the air by my head.
Yelping, I threw the cigarette at my feet and stomped it with my sandal. “Dion, fancy uh—fancy running into you.”
It wasn’t until Dion edged closer that pure terror wrung my bones. He’d never seen me like this—unkept and flustered. I had zero make-up on, my hair was as flat as an ironing board, and I woreflip-flops. Not to mention, he’d seen me smoking now.
“Yeah.” Dion stepped toward me like an Irwin approaching a hungry crocodile. “What are you doing in the Cove?”
Folding my arms around myself and readjusting my posture to appear at least somewhat attractive, I flicked my hair behind me. “I live here.”
Dion’s eyes did that damn twinkle that I couldn’t recall ever failing to make my knees wobbly. “Is that so?” A grin tugged at his lips, and his gaze unabashedly roamed my yoga pants, my hair and landed on my face.
“Yup. Right there, in fact.” I pointed at my apartment building behind him.
He glanced over his shoulder, rubbed his chin, and chuckled with that deep-as-sin voice of his. “I’ll be damned. I live two blocks that way off Sycamore.” Dion jutted his thumb behind me.
Sand coated my throat, and I dragged my nails over my neck. “Wow. That’s uh—that’s close.”
“Sure is,” Dion responded, his husky voice louder now from having stepped within a breath’s reach of me.
Sucking in a quick breath, not because he startled me, but because of the way his scent ignited my core within a heartbeat, I stared at him.
“If you moved here, what happened to your clients?” Dion slipped his hands in his pockets, those dark eyes still taking me in.
Despite my best efforts, I could feel my feet going pigeon-toed, and it may have been the only thing keeping me from collapsing. “Warm transferred to other specialists. After Harm retired, I didn’t see a point in sticking around and sought greener pastures.”
“And you settled on the Cove?” Dion’s brows did that skin-pinching quirking I remembered when he was especially curious about something.
I continued to rub my neck, undoubtedly making it red. “I don’t know how to describe it other than it sung to me. Is that crazy?”
“Not crazy, Red. Not in the slightest.” He smiled again, tilting his head to one side. “Look at you. Moved away fromyour comfort zone, are out in public without any make-up, you smoke, and you have blue icing on your cheek.”
“I—what?” Wiping my hand over the same side Dion pointed, I grimaced at the blue stain smearing my palm. And Tobias couldn’t have done me a solid and warned me in the shop? “Dammit,” I said under my breath.
“And you’re swearing?” Dion leaned back, his hands still in his pockets, and a roar of laughter burst from his chest. “Fuck, Chels. This place is doing you some good, huh?”
