Page 62 of Welcome to Blackbird Hollow
To my surprise, the pleasure in my core flutters, and another orgasm rises inside of me, sweeping my body with warmth. I bite out his name as he buries his head in the crook of my neck, one hand stroking my hair, powerful fingers so impossibly gentle.
He rolls to the side, immediately pulling me into his arms. I settle my head on his chest, his skin damp. Drawing in a deep breath of his smell, all bonfires and deep pine woods, I close my eyes, utterly spent and beyond satisfied. Tomorrow morning, I hope I’ll get to see more of Wyatt’s space—of his room, of his home, of the knick-knacks he’s chosen for his bookshelves and Fern’s favorite spot on the battered Chesterfield I passed out on earlier.
I want toknowhim, and I want him to know me just as deeply. Tears fill my eyes, and I feel so silly for it, but…I haven’t been close to many people in my life. Beyond my startling lack of lasting romantic connections, I’ve just always struggled to fit in.
But here, in a handsome stone farmhouse high in Blackbird Hollow’s hills, tucked in Wyatt Hayes’s arms, I feel like I fit perfectly.
Wyatt mumbles something, breaking my reverie as he presses a kiss to my temple. My heart lurches as he gets up, but he’s back in a few moments with a towel, in case I want to clean up a little, and a giant mason jar filled with water. Then we’re back in bed together, our limbs winding together, his mouth finding mine unerringly, even in the nighttime gloom.
His lips trail over my collarbone, my breasts, my belly, my hips, and then my thighs. “Tryin’ to memorize all of you,” he says in a rough voice against my skin, shifting further down the bed. “But you see, Alice, I’m missing a crucial bit of information…”
I lift my head to look at him quizzically, only to find him sliding between my legs. “And what’s that?”
He slips his hands around my thighs with a devilish grin, his gaze dropping to the damp, aching place at the apex of my legs. “What you taste like, sweet girl.”
Chapter 28
Wyatt
Halloween dawned red and blurry, the sun barely making the effort to cut through the blue haze, but I rolled over when Fallon opened my front door, calling softly to Fern that it was time to go out. I’m grateful for her help, and the privacy. We have a policy about mission days—sleep as late as possible—but Fallon can’t ever manage it. However, I can, so I tucked Alice under my chin and fell back asleep.
Now, I wake with a start, adrenaline running through me, my dreams a blank space in my mind. Alice is sprawled out next to me, her arm thrown over my chest. I made her drink a ton of water, and she ate half a pizza before we slept, but we could still use a donut or two to stave off any lingering effects of a girls’ night with Fallon.
I slip out of bed, grabbing a worn Slice o’ Heaven t-shirt from my old Eastlake dresser. The clock next to the bed says it’s almost one. Alice stirs a little, her eyes bleary.
“Hey,” she whispers, her voice somewhat hoarse.
I can’t help but be pleased by that fact. I did have her making a racket last night. “Go back to sleep for a bit,” I urge her. “We’ve got a big evening in front of us. I’m going to get donuts.”
“Okay,” she murmurs, soft and sleepy, rolling over to the edge of the bed to slip her hand into mine. “You’re not sneaking away, then?”
I crouch down to push her blonde waves away from her face. “I’m not going anywhere but the bakery, sweet girl.”
She makes a happy noise, and then her breath evens out. She’s actually relaxed. When I open the door, Fern bounds in from the hall, climbing right into bed with Alice, who hugs her close.
Fallon’s sitting on my back deck. She’s wearing a near-ancient sweater, the pastel yarn woven into a pastoral scene with a bunch of sheep on it and a pair of track shorts so tiny I can barely see them.
“Put some damn clothes on,” I mutter at her. “You’ll catch cold.”
“You’re not the boss of me,” she spits back.
“Fair enough,” I reply, heading back into the house, my sister close behind.
In the kitchen, Fallon fills a twenty-ounce mason jar with water and slams the whole thing down before sighing. “There’snothingon that Sector woman. I went out to see Marion, and there’s nothing on CCTV whatsoever. She knew her angles. Car went right outta town, too, then disappeared somewhere between Big Hill and the Roadhouse.” Fallon clears her throat. “You know what that means.”
I hold back the urge to deny what we both know. It would feel better to pretend like Sector wasn’t overly interested in Alice, but it won’t do any of us a lick of good in the end. “Yeah.”
Fallon shakes her head, the same gritty determination in her eyes that’s taking root in my chest. “Been a while since they wanted someone from around here.”
She’s right. Sector hasn’t courted anyone from Blackbird Hollow in over a decade. They came after a few of the morepowerful witches when Caden was in high school, but they were so roundly turned out that they didn’t come back. Well, they didn’t come back with those kinds of intentions, anyway. We probably got too complacent. Can’t do a thing about that now.
“What’re we gonna do?” I ask.
Fallon sighs. “I went out to Cade’s last night, after I talked to Marion. I’ve got feelers out.”
I rest my shoulder on the side of the fridge, feeling worn through all of a sudden. There’s too many things happening at once, and I’m near-certain I’m missing something vital about all this. “What kind of feelers?”
Fallon sighs as she gets coffee out of the cabinet. She knows her way around my kitchen as well as I know hers. “The official kind.”
