The road stretches through forest, unending walls of green bracketing the pavement. Thank the goddess, there are no other vehicles. I have no idea where we’re going, but it doesn’t seem to matter—there are no turnoffs or intersections.
Skye releases my arm with a ragged gasp, her hands flying to the steering wheel. “Fudging fudgesicles!” We slow to a third of our previous speed as her foot comes off the gas. “Ineverwant to do that again.”
“How much longer until we get to thehouse?”
“No idea.” She takes a look around as we slow further. “I don’t know where we are. I haven’t seen anything familiar since we left downtown.”
“Don’t go any slower than this. We don’t want to reset.”
She gapes at me and jabs a finger toward the road in front of us. “I just let go of the steering wheel while we were going fifty miles an hour, and you want me to do itagain?” Her voice hits a high note.
“I don’t like this anymore than you do, but we must finish this scene or we’ll never get out of the book.” I grab a free spot on the steering wheel and scowl out the windshield. “Go slow, and I’ll keep hold this time. We can do this.”
Skye takes a few juddering breaths, then says, “Okay, you’re right.”
“Of course I am. It’s the logical plan of action.”
She mutters, “Snickerdoodles,” under her breath and puts the car in drive. We creep down the road, but fortunately not for much longer. In the blink of an eye, the trees recede from the roadside to make room for houses, and Skye pulls the truck to a halt in front of her pink cottage.
The little witch bats her eyelashes at me as she unlocks the front door. “I hope you’re hungry.”
“Starving,” I say, the book character adding a note of innuendo to my voice that’s true for me as well.
Princess Buttercup rushes into the hallway. “It’s about time! Do you know how boring it is to be here without you? There aren’t any toys!” She sounds affronted. “Howcan this be a house with a cat if there aren’t any cat toys?”
“I’ve got the chicken prepped, so this won’t take long at all.” Skye doesn’t even glance at her familiar, her eyes lockedonto my face. “Do you want to wait in the living room?”
“Wanna be with you, babe. Eager to watch you make dinner for me.”
A loud yowl of protest follows us into the sunny kitchen, Princess Buttercup running in circles around Skye’s legs and tripping her.
I surge forward. My movements lack the speed of a fae, but I still catch her.
She smiles up at me, her real smile instead of the book character’s, soft and warm, and I pull her even closer.
“Hello!” The cat leaps up onto the countertop, then bounds onto my shoulder to yell directly into Skye’s face, “Why are you ignoring me?I’mthe most important person here!”
“Oh, Princess Buttercup, stop making such a fuss.” Skye plucks her familiar from my shoulder, and the cat goes limp and docile. “Let’s put you in the guest bedroom for now.”
“You can’t lock me away,” Princess Buttercup says as Skye disappears into the hall. “I can’t get my body to do what I want, but I do not agree to this!”
A door snicks shut, and Skye reappears, hurrying over to wash her hands before she starts cooking.
Instead of helping, I stand drinking a beer and watching her. Like the cat, my body is not currently my own.
The next few moments whiz by like one of Skye’s dance movies played at double speed. Before I know it, I’m sitting at her dining table, eating and making small talk about my work as a fireman. My character prattles on and on about the fire station and all his coworkers without asking about her day.
The crisp coating on the chicken crunches with each bite, the meat within salty and tender. The tang of the coleslaw provides a nice flavor contrast, and the creamy mashed potatoes drip with meaty gravy.
“Babe, this is the best meal I’ve ever eaten!” As far as I’m aware, it’s theonlymeal this character has ever eaten, but he’s correct—the food is indeed excellent.
Skye giggles and blinks rapidly again. “You haven’t even had dessert.”
“There’s only one thing I want for dessert.” I slide my chair over and reach for her hand. Skye’s pretty candy-red mouth captures my full attention, begging me to lick, to taste. Nothing could be sweeter.
I stop fighting the book character, both of us in full accord, both of us craving the woman in front of us.
I lean forward, tugging her onto my lap.
