“I don’t think she doesn’t like Hogan.”
“And she tells you this, not me? Not her sister?”
His eyebrows went up and he took a step back, one hand twitching upward. “She didn’t tell me directly.”
“Then how do you know she likes him?”
“I, uh, ran into her at the grocery store. We chatted, one thing led to another, Hogan walked by with a fifty-pound bag of flour on his shoulder and her gaze glued to his ass until he was out of sight.”
“She was that obvious?”
“I have amazing observation skills when it comes to women.”
“Oh?”
“It’s true. Family curse.”
“You have a family curse.”
“Doesn’t everyone in town?”
He was joking, fighting back a grin. He didn’t have a curse. He didn’t even know about the creatures and deities in town. Rule #5 of my job: no spilling the beans to the mortals about the supernatural contingency.
“Sure,” I said. “Everyone in town is cursed or worse.”
He tipped his head for a second, the smile still not lifting, but the laughter in his eyes turning to that sharp curiosity again. “All right,” he said, “go out with me. Take an evening off. I’ll buy you one of Chris’s rhubarb beers.”
“If you promise to not buy me one of Chris’s rhubarb beers, I’ll think about it.”
“Can I upgrade that to a yes if I throw in burgers and fries?”
“I don’t know. How’s the new cook he hired?”
“She’s amazing. If Chris gets tired of brewing, her cooking would keep him afloat for years.”
Yes, it would. Chris’s cook happened to be a goddess—Nortia, the Etruscan goddess who nailed down fate for people once a year. And like most deities on vacation in this town, she had settled into a mundane job that had nothing to do with her actual power.
She cooked.
At least she was good at what she’d chosen. Unlike most of the other deities, who disastrously overestimated their mundane skill set.
“I can’t. Tonight’s not good. With all the prep for the Rhubarb Rally, and no extra hands, I’m pulling some crazy hours.”
His shoulders relaxed, even if his eyes didn’t. “Right. Bad time of year.”
“Maybe later?” I suggested. “After?”
“Sure,” he said. “After. When things aren’t so busy.” He gave me a small smile. “Or if you hire someone.”
I chuckled quietly. “Between now and the Rhubarb Rally? That would be a miracle.”
“Miracles happen.”
“Not to me.”
“Then it’s long overdue, don’t you think?”
“Optimist.”
