Page 58 of With This Witch
He’s heard people talk about what it feels like to be in love and how it can be all-consuming. How you can’t stop thinking about them. How they are the first thing you think of in the morning and the last at night. How you worry about them and also want what’s best. How she is the best part of his day. How she belongs in his arms. How…
Oh, fuck. I love her.
I. Love. Petra.
Heat rushes through his body as he finally, fully, and completely acknowledges how everything he has ever done for her, every interaction he has had with her, was him showing her his love.
He hears Petra making her way down the stairs. He doesn’t have time to try and calm himself.
“Thanks again for the coffee,” she says, entering the kitchen.
Lachlan stays with his back to her, trying to calm his body to regain composure after his revelation.
“You okay?” she asks, pausing behind him, concerned.
He clears his throat, fixing the dishtowel on the oven door and adjusting the plates on the counter. “Yes. Yes. I’m good. Breakfast?”
“Please,” she says, reaching for a plate.
Finally turning to face her, he is confident she can see his thoughts written on his face. Thankfully, she doesn’t say anything. Instead, she picks up a plate beside him and turns to the box of baked goodies, selecting a muffin, a mini croissant, and a Danish. She sits at the table, picking up her Danish and taking a bite. The low moan of satisfaction she lets out goes straight to his dick, making it twitch.
He loves the happy food noises she makes. He loves all the noises she makes.
“Oh my goddess, this is so good. Where did you find these?” Petra asks with a mouth full of pastry.
“At that new shop on Calvert, Krumb-Krushers,” he responds, joining her at the table with a loaded plate.
“I’ll have to tell Gammy about it. She will love these,” she says, picking up the Danish. “You’d be surprised, but that lady loves sweets and pastries beyond anything I’ve ever witnessed. I remember my mom telling me once that Gammy pushed some old lady out of the way to get the last box of macarons at some high-end shop.” Petra laughs, recalling the story.
She doesn’t talk about her mother much. All he knows is that she died when Petra was in her early teens. He doesn’t blame her for wanting to keep that part private, but he wishes she would open up more. To share some of her burdens with him. To let him carry them for her.
“So,” Petra says, pulling him away from his thoughts.
“Yes?”
“You have far more experience with council than I do. Do you think Grog will ever relent?”
Lachlan leans back into his chair, crossing his arms across his chest. He tilts his head back and looks up to the ceiling, thinking through his experience as a council member.
“I would love to say I have some deep insight into the inner workings of that troll’s mind, but even after all these years, I haven’t been able to tap into his logistical processes. He’s very tight-lipped, and I wouldn’t be surprised if he has some dirt on the other council members to make them go along with whatever he wants,” he muses.
“True. Maybe it’s something to do with Sloan, and he’s going to try and weasel her in somehow. Maybe add a secondary condition or a competition between us? Make us have a witch-off?” she suggests, semi-joking.
“A witch-off? This isn’t some cheerleading movie where you have a dance battle.” He laughs lightly. “I could see him changing his mind with the conditions or maybe having you and Sloan shadow each other.” He sees her eyes widen at the idea of shadowing Sloan and quickly interjects, “I meant shadow as in to follow and try and find fault with each other. Not to try and take each other out.”
Petra hangs her head and releases a sigh of relief. “You scared me there for a second. Thought for sure you were suggesting I kill Sloan.”
“I mean, that would solve some of your problems,” he jokes.
“I amnotkilling Sloan.” Petra rolls her eyes at him.
Lachlan chuckles. “Fine. You don’t have to kill Sloan. As for Grog, I don’t think it would be beyond him to continue to push whether it’s acceptable because we will both be council members. I also would not be surprised if he tried to challenge if our marriage isreal.”
“Hmm. So what do we do to convince him we aren’t just friends who got married to meet his demands?”
Just friends.
His heart aches at that phrasing. Does she genuinely believe they are still just friends after all that’s happened in the last few weeks? Is he the only one who’s gone deeper than that? Panic starts to rise from his stomach and burn in his chest. He has to know where she stands.
