Damn. When the hell is she planning on telling me?
As we research the death until the wee hours of the morning, I give her plenty of opportunities, but she doesn’t say a word about the stupid stick even though I put it right on top of the garbage where she can’t miss it.
Chapter Seven
Sam
It was a late night so I sleep like a log and wake to the banging of kitchen cabinet doors. As an angry Suds mutters under his breath, I recall it’s Sunday and how I promised Father O’Connell I’d bring him to church.
My God, men are moodier than cats.
Ducking, so as not to bump my head on the eaves, I crawl to the dresser where I pick out undies, a nice black tunic, and black leggings. My first decision of the day a success, I stand at the banister and glance out our huge front window. At this hour, the sun hits the EL across the street, turning the tracks golden. It’s a glorious spring day. Maybe today, we can go to the park, take a drive to Coney Island, or we could just stay home and fuck.
“Hey, kitty.”
Catrina, who every morning zooms up the stairs to greet me, lies on the couch. With lids half-closed, she raises her head, yawns, then snoozes.
Huh.Barefooted, I circle down to where Suds stands by the fridge and point at my melancholy pet. “Did she eat?”
“Some, but not all.” He taps her bowl with his toes and it scrapes the floor.
“Tomorrow, if she doesn’t perk up, we’ll have to call the vet.”
“Yup.” He doesn’t meet my gaze, kiss me good morning, or even offer me a cup of coffee.
This pouting is so not like him.“Do you want to tell me what’s wrong?”
“Nope.” Grabbing his mug, he sits on the couch and hides his nose in his laptop while I try to recall everything that happened yesterday. Our sex was awesome. In fact, his love making was beyond ultra-magnificent, so it can’t be that… However, he did seem weird soon after.
“Okay, going to take a shower.”
He grunts.
Disappointed he doesn’t join me, I finish up and dry my hair so I won’t die. Once dressed, I enter the kitchen and my eyes pop out. Two eggs on toast and a pile of hush puppies crowd my plate. Next to this ginormous breakfast, Suds sets down a pitcher of orange juice and a miniature candy bear.
I pick up the red gummy and hold it up to the light. “What’s up with this?”
“It’s a vitamin.” One dark brow raises, waiting for me to whisper words of wisdom.
I got nothing. “Because?”
“Just thought it might be a good idea.”
“Ah… Alrighty then.” I bite off a tiny head, limbs, and chew on the cherry body. “We told Father O we’d try to make it to church today. So, um, are you coming or what?”
“What for?”
“Because our Pre Cana class says before we have children, we should decide what religion to bring them up in, yours or mine. So, you should study Catholicism and I should learn about serpents.”
His eyes narrow. “Sam, isn’t there something you want to tell me?”
“About snakes?”
“Shit. Nothing. But I’m not going to church. Tell Father O we’ve decided to become Druids.”
I laugh, even though he doesn’t, and open our online workbook. “So, we want a dozen witch babies. Are we still thinking a coven’s worth?”
He smirks. “Yeah.”
