A heavy hand lands on my shoulder. “Sit down,” Rune growls. “The cat’s being an ass, but he’s always an ass.”
“Hound, you wound me!” The werepanther clutches his heart.
“Just wait until it’s your turn to deal with a human witch.” Severin leans forward to smirk down the bar at Shadow.
“Ha!” I snort. “He’s already been sniffing after his purple-haired witch for months to no avail.”
“I’m doing a little casual stalking, nothing more.” Shadow waves a hand dismissively. “Trust me, when I begin the actual hunt, there will be no doubts or hesitation.”
How simple he makes it sound. I’m unused to hesitating in any other facet of my life, but with Skye, there are too many unknowns. Reading her favorite book today did help somewhat: Westley’s willingness to do anything to make his lady love happy proved illuminating, as long as I think of the perfect way to put my new theories into practice.
I open my pizza box. Mushroom and black olives look up at me from a cheeseless pie.
“No cheese? Harsh.” Shadow sneaks one of my mushrooms. “Looks like Blue’s still angry with you.” He opens his own box to display a meat lover’s pizza, my favorite. The werepanther offers me two pieces for trade instead of the normal one.
I accept them with a grunt of thanks. Some of the tension in my chest eases. Shadow might tease far more than I care for, but his actions are indeed those of a friend.
We eat and drink in silence for a few minutes, and my two slices of meat pizza disappear in greedy gulps, rich with savory salt and spices mellowed by the comforting tang of cheese.
All of us watch Thorvinn at the other end of the bar, where a group of humans order the special Valentine’s cocktails. You’d expect the pub owner to be glad of the business, but the orc clearly hates making drinks he considers “frilly.” He slams the glasses onto the bar top with so much force it’s amazing they don’t break. Then he shakes the metal carafe violently, like a ship tossed by a storm, the ice inside a rain of hail and thunder. His pour of the final cocktails feels somewhat subdued after all of that, but he still snarls enough that it’s a good thing the town’s protection spell keeps the humans from seeing his tusks.
He stomps his way back over to us, muttering about humans and love and holidays. “When will this Valentine’s Day nightmare be over? When do I get my bar back?” Thorvinn waves a green hand. “By the goddess, every time I turn around there are more pink hearts all over downtown. Do human decorationsbreedor something?”
“It’s next weekend,” Severin says.
The looming holiday is both a blessing and a curse. I’ve got only one week to figure out how to keep Skye. One week to convince her she could want me as I am. Yet it also offers possibilities. When better to do something romantic than on the day dedicated to romance and love?
Severin continues, “I’ve already picked out a beautiful necklace for Hannah.”
“From Bling It On?” Rune asks.
“Where else? Gnome jewelry is the best, and my wife deserves nothing less.” The shadow fae turns to Rune. “What about you? What did you get Autumn?”
“A new toy.”
I frown and finish off my last bite of pizza. “Isn’t she a little old for those?”
“Not this kind of toy,” the werewolf says, voice thrumming with anticipation.
“Oh, ho! Sex toys!” Shadow points at him. “Tell us everything.”
“No.” A faint smirk curls Rune’s lips as he takes a drink.
“What are you doing for Skye?” the werepanther asks me.
I let out a breath and say words I never imagined uttering. “I have an idea, but I need your help.”
Thorvinn looks a bit dubious, but the others don’t hesitate. Rune grunts an affirmative, Severin says of course, and Shadow claps me on the shoulder. “I thought you’d never ask. Now, first you—”
“No.” I cut him off, my hand slicing through the air. “I’ve researched the subject carefully and know exactly what I need to do.”
“Well?” Shadow leans forward. “Don’t leave us hanging. What is it, oh great scholar?”
“A grand gesture,” I say, determined to make all of my romance reading pay off. “And not just any grand gesture. I need the grand gesture to end all grand gestures.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
Lukendevener
