Read A Barrel of Whiskey - (An Urban Fantasy Whiskey Witches Novel) Online

Authors: S.M. Blooding

Tags: #Whiskey Witches Novel Number 3

A Barrel of Whiskey - (An Urban Fantasy Whiskey Witches Novel) (6 page)

BOOK: A Barrel of Whiskey - (An Urban Fantasy Whiskey Witches Novel)
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Leslie sagged with relief.

“That’s all I’m promising.”

Leslie wrapped one arm around Mandy’s shoulders and squeezed, resting her cheek on top of Mandy’s head. “I’ll take it. Just…stay.” She met Paige’s gaze and whispered, “Please.”

D
exx met Paige at the door. “Fuck!”

Her sentiments exactly.

“Are we staying? Going?”

She didn’t know. Not really. “I’m going to talk to Henry.”

“Good?”

It was good to see she wasn’t the only one who was struggling with the idea of staying. “Maybe?”

Dexx raised his eyebrows, his lips clamped shut. “Right.” He pulled his keys out of the car and led the way.

Paige almost groaned when she slid into the front seat. She needed a break from the car. Even from Jackie.

No. Not from Jackie.
She
was a blessedly beautiful beast of a car.

Dexx started her up and her engine roared, then settled down to a purr.

Yeah. That.

“Is staying here even an option? Really?” Dexx asked as he pulled onto the highway to Dallas.

Paige sucked in her cheeks slightly and stared out the window. “We can’t stay.” Or could they? Her heart had been set when they’d left for Texas, but now?

“Where else would we go? Denver’s out.”

She didn’t know. She’d never thought about what she
wanted
. Not seriously, anyway. “Where would we want to go?”

“I don’t know.” He shrugged. “I’ve been to just about every state. I can tell you New York is nice, if you wanted to get closer to Leah.”

“I don’t like the city.”

“There’s a lot more to New York than New York City, Pea.”

She knew that. She’d driven out there once. Had been almost arrested for trying to see Leah. Yeah. She knew. But how would she keep herself from killing Rachel? Being that close to her for any period of time could be disastrous.

They had a war on the horizon, however. Merry Eastwood had shown up on Alma’s doorstep. So, the woman knew where they lived. It was only a matter of time before she found out about the treaty being broken. They had one move. “Portland.”

He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. “Don’t you think that could be a bit dangerous? What with everything going on with…well, with us?”

With the other witch families also in Portland and, presumably, siding with the Eastwoods, Paige and Dexx would be wildly outnumbered. Especially since she doubted she could talk Leslie and Alma into moving.

Dexx clamped his lips shut, eyebrows high.

It didn’t really matter how much stronger she was now. That idea might be bad. “It might be better than looking over our shoulders for the rest of our lives. Or worrying if Merry sent henchmen to Grandma’s door.”

He gripped the wheel and glanced at her, maintaining the brunt of his attention on the heavy traffic. “Well, what if we stayed? What if we moved here?”

“And force the war to our doorstep?”

“Or not. Who says she’s going to find out?”

“Our piss poor luck. That’s what.” And Sven. And Oriel.

“But look at it, Pea. Your family’s here. You’d have a roof. And pie. Let’s not forget about that damned pie.”

She chuckled.

So did he. “You practically have your old job back. It’s an easy fit. All the issues are checked off.”

Move back in? To that house?

That
house
that was finally a
home?
“I’ve been on my own for five years.”

“You have.”

“And I’ve learned things like—” She flicked her fingers against the window. “I enjoy eating ice cream out of the tub.”

Dexx tugged the corner of his lips down and pointed a finger to the roof of his car. “That’s an act of ownership right there.”

“And I like having full, one hundred percent control of the remote.”

“Prime TV watching is important to the psyche.”

“And I love taking my baths. Alone. And on my own time.”

“And long showers. You can’t take long showers in that house.”

That was a true statement. “And I like my privacy.”

“Oh. Yeah. You wouldn’t have that at
all
in that house.”

“At all.”

“So, staying here is a bad idea?”

Well, maybe staying in Alma’s house with Leslie and Tru and Mandy and Tyler and Kamden? Maybe that.

But, if she and Dexx stayed in Texas, close enough to assist if the war did come down to them? That might be the better plan.

He took the exit. “Just do me a favor and figure it out quickly.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “Why?”

“Because I need to know if I’m extending the rental on my storage unit in New York or not.”

Her heart skipped. When Dexx had been bitten, she’d declared her love for him.

Then, nothing.

He survived the bite. They saved the shifters of Nederland from being blown up by a mad man. And they cleaned up the mess that had been left behind. She’d been fired. They’d found out about the threat of Merry, and they’d driven to Texas.

But no talk about their future or her declaration of love. It had been eating at her. When she thought about it. Lucky for her, she wasn’t one of those emotional women who only thought of men and how one could complete her.

Though, truth be told, she wasn’t far off.
This
man
did
complete her and she just needed him to want that, too. “You were going to stay here?”

“You’re the one who said I was your home.”

She had.

“I just assumed I was going to stay and be your live-in lover.”

Live-in lover? She’d told him she
loved
him. Not that she wanted a live-in sex toy.

“Imagine it. I give you unfettered access to this love machine—” He gestured to himself.

He had a good point, but she wanted more.

“And you give me a roof, you feed me, clothe me—okay. I’ll help with that because I’ve seen how you clothe yourself.”

What if all he wanted was sex?

Was she being irrational? Had her woman genes kicked in and taken over her brain? Had she misread the signs?

He shrugged, his expression slipping into seriousness. “I could settle down. I miss having a home. I hate living out of a motel room. I hate take-out food and eating at gas stations. Also, I love Alma’s house. She makes it seem like a real home. Plus, there’s pie. All I have to do is tell her I’m having a really, really bad day, and she makes pie happen.”

He couldn’t get over the pie thing. “But my lover?”

His lips twitched and he didn’t speak immediately. “Sex would be good between us. There’s a good spark, but it’s not always there. We can work with each other without it distracting us.”

Disappointment ate at her heart. “Sex. That’s it.”

“You said you loved me,” he said with a tone that implied he was offering the same thing.

She watched the telephone poles pass, ignoring the “God saves” billboard with a naked baby on it.

Dexx tapped the wheel. “I feel like I missed something.”

So did she. “I don’t just want your body.”

“Oh, I’m offering you everything that goes with it. My amusing whit. My adorable charm. My guns.”

“I’m confused.”

“Um, I guess I am, too?”

Why did it feel like this conversation was going in circles? She needed to shred it and bring the point front and center. “You’re talking live-in-lover.”

He opened his mouth to say something.

“And I’m telling you I’m going to propose to you. Sometime, probably soon.”

He pulled his head back and closed his lips.

Men. She stared out the window.

“For the record,” he said into the silence, “I was talking the same thing, too.”

No. He wasn’t.

“Guy speak, Pea. I told you I was going to give
you
my body. That’s as good as saying I wanted to…” He gestured with his hand. “Stay close to you. Alone. Without having sex with others.”

Blessed fucking Mother. She looked at him. “As much as I love your body, that’s not what I’m willing to go war over.”

He batted his eyelashes at her. “I feel like Juliet.”

“Oh, for Pete’s sake.” She searched for something to throw at him and came up empty.

He grinned. “So, you want to marry me?”

“I’m reconsidering it. You know, in ten years, murdering you might be more pleasurable.”

“That would make sex awkward.”

“Do you have a one track mind?”

“Yes. Yes, I do. I’ve been sleeping in your bed for
weeks
. We’ve been dancing this dance. For weeks. It’s never been the right time. I’m horny, Pea. My body wants your body. My penis wants to get intimate with your vagina.”

That was…romantic.

“Well, my vagina is looking forward to meeting your penis.”

“Oh, good,” he said with fire. “Because we were starting to worry.”

She chuckled. She couldn’t help it. “It’s got its own personality?”

“Obviously, you’ve never had a penis.”

They pulled up to the brick and glass building that housed the Dallas PD. It was one of the historic buildings. The white stood out from the natural stone surrounding it.

Dexx parked Jackie in the parking garage and got out of the car. His shoulders were tight, his lips flat.

Paige stood at Jackie’s trunk. “Dexx.”

He stopped, his back still turned toward her.

She put her hand on his arm and tugged gently to get him to turn around.

He sighed and did as her fingers requested.

“I’m sorry I didn’t understand.”

“Yeah. Me, too. Sometimes, I forget you’re a woman.”

She snorted. “Because I’m the only one in this relationship who can have emotions. Moron.”

He pulled his lips toward his nose.

“You’re my best friend, D.”

Shoving his hands in his pockets, he met her gaze. “You’re mine, too. And I really do want to spend the next few months with you.”

“Not the rest of our lives?”

He shrugged. “Let’s try the next few months first. I like being wined and dined.”

“You’re so delicate.”

His smiled grimly at her. “You were right. Before. When you said you loved me. Our love means war and we can’t bring that here.”

That
was
their reality.

“So, yeah. Let’s see how the next few months play out.”

Well, one of them had to be the realist.

She rose onto her toes and kissed him. No hunger. No desperation.

A kiss of promise. That was all she could offer.

His soft lips accepted it with one of his own.

Paige led them up to the second floor. There wasn’t a desk clerk at the front. Just a wide open floor with glass walls and open desk spaces.

“Are we supposed to be able to get up here this easy?” Dexx asked.

Several men and women worked at their desks and around tables. They spoke to each other, busy with their cases. The snippets of conversation she heard were all work related. Where was the last place the victim was? What did the fiber tell them? Why couldn’t they work with the Jeffersonian and have all their cases solved in an episode?

She’d worked on this floor five years ago, but it hadn’t looked anything like this. Previously, Chief Pendergast’s office had been on the far left.

His name was still on the door, or at least there was a wall decal that looked like it could be his name on the door. She really needed glasses. Anyway, she headed in that direction and knocked on the door. Unlike the glass walls of the rest of the office space, Chief had real walls with real windows and blinds.

He sat behind his desk and glanced up when she knocked. He waved her in, then bowed his head again, his cell phone tucked to his ear. “Yeah.” He gestured toward the two seats in front of his desk. “Yeah. No, sir. I understand that.”

Chief’s office hadn’t changed. He’d played baseball in high school and college and trophies lined the back shelf. Not all his trophies, she wagered. After all, he’d made it through college on his baseball scholarships. He had a few pictures of his wife and their three daughters. They had a bulldog, Rosie.

It looked like the office of a chief of police.

“Yes, sir. Okay. All right. Yes. Fine. Will do. Thank you.” He pulled the phone away from his ear with a sigh and hung up. “Never take my job.”

“Wasn’t planning on it.”

“You should.”

Paige frowned in confused surprise. “Should what?”

“Plan on advancing your career.”

She wanted to laugh. She’d just been fired from the Denver office and he was talking about advancing her career?

He waived her off.

“Listen, Chief—”

“Henry. I think you’ve earned the right to call me that.”

Before Rachel, they’d been pretty close. Not wildly so, but when he threw a BBQ, he invited her over. When Alma had needed a new floor put down in the kitchen, he’d come by to help. “I didn’t realize you knew my secret.”

She’d discovered he knew about her background in demons and witchcraft in Denver when she’d been fired.

Henry shrugged. “Yes. Balnore—your demon teacher—told me to keep it a secret. So, I did.”

“And you thought that was best?” Especially since he knew that her teacher had been a demon.

“I had no reason to tell you.” He pulled the corners of his lips down for a quick moment. “You were doing well. All I had to do was to keep you on the straight and narrow. Well, roughly on the straight and narrow. I helped with the paperwork when things got a bit dicey and when you were ready to quit hiding your world. I even helped you destroy evidence.”

BOOK: A Barrel of Whiskey - (An Urban Fantasy Whiskey Witches Novel)
9.28Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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