Page 38 of Hand-Fasting and Other Hazards
“One time,” she began, her voice light, “Ivy convinced the local fire fighters to pose with kittens for a calendar shoot. We set it all up in the middle of the street—fires, hoses, oil. The works.” Her lips curved into a smile, and Lochlan felt himself mirroring it.
“Small groups of people stopped to watch, of course—how could they not?” she continued, glancing up at him, a faint flush still lingering on her cheeks.
He nodded, forcing himself to focus on her words instead of the way their toes touched, or how the subtle brush of her fingers against his skin was making it very, very hard to think.
“Well,” she said, her tone turning conspiratorial, “Beatrice—she lives across the street—decided to bring her famous lemonade and flirt with a couple of the fire fighters. Her husband, Hank, wasn’t having it. He thought grabbing one of the hoses and breaking them up was the best plan.”
Lochlan raised a brow. “How did that go?”
Nia shook her head and laughed. “Hank’s about seventy and smaller than Ivy. When he turned the hose on, the pressure sent it flying, and he held on for dear life. It was like… I don’t know, some kind of hose rodeo. Beatrice got completely soaked, one of the businesses had water damage, and now—” Her grin widened. “—we’re banned from hosting shirtless photo shoots in the square.”
He wished he could have been there to see it himself. He was realizing how much of life in Stella Rune he’d been missing out on. From now on, he wanted to be there—for all of it.
And for her.
“Lochlan?” Nia’s voice was soft but threaded with urgency as she leaned against him, her warm hands resting lightly on his chest.
His breath hitched as he met her gaze. Dark, liquid eyes and parted lips beckoned him closer. Oh, goddess. He told himself he needed to hold back. He needed to be patient.
He needed to kiss her.
Lochlan leaned in slowly, her breath a soft caress against his lips. His hand rose to brush against her cheek and?—
A crash shattered the moment.
Lochlan jumped and spun on instinct, his arm moving to pull Nia behind him, bracing for the threat. A thief? A demon? A?—
Cat.
A massive white Maine Coon sat amidst shards of glass, lazily licking its paw as if it hadn’t just barreled through the window. The feline’s gold collar glinted in the light, a delicate scroll dangling from it.
Nia let out a slow breath and stepped around Lochlan to crouch beside the oversized menace. She stroked its head with affection. The cat leaned into her touch, utterly unbothered.
She plucked the scroll from its collar, saw the handwriting, and sighed. “Ass hat,” she muttered, sounding irritated and exasperated. The warmth and tension that had been building between them bled away, until it felt like it had never existed.
The cat stretched, turned in an elegant circle, and sauntered off. As it slipped out of sight, the shattered window began to reassemble. Shards rose and slotted back into place with quiet, effortless magic.
Nia handed him the scroll, her expression unreadable. “It’s Wulfric,” she said flatly. “He’s summoned us for dinner tomorrow.”
CHAPTER 14
Nia
“A PRINCE HALF ROYAL REG: WHAT THIS MATCH MEANS FOR THE SUPERNATURAL COMMUNITY.” —THE WEEKLY HEX
Wulfric’s manor loomed dark and foreboding against the dimming sky, its black walls and spires casting long, jagged shadows over the surrounding grounds. Gargoyles perched on every corner, their stony eyes tracking Nia and Lochlan’s every move. As they climbed the staircase, one gargoyle’s head gave a stiff swivel before bowing slightly.
Nia lifted a hand in a casual wave. “Hi, Larry.”
Beside her, Lochlan made a sound somewhere between amusement and irritation. “You would charm a statue.”
She shrugged, suppressing a smile. “Larry and I go way back.”
“Should I be jealous?” Lochlan asked.
Nia smirked. “Depends. He’s very reliable. Always watched out for me.”
Lochlan eyed the gargoyle as if Larry had become competition.
