“It’s my fault,” Ari yells from her spot on the floor.
Sam and I both look to where she’s lying. We can’t see her body since the couch is obscuring the view, but her hand is up as she wiggles her fingers in greeting.
“I see. That makes sense.” Sam nods toward Ari, and I slink out the door and onto the porch, closing the door behind us.
“She’s, um . . . She needs my help with some girl stuff today. I didn’t want to call out, but she really needed me and I didn’t know what else to do.” I’m trying to reassure him that we’re okay without giving him any details.
Sam runs his finger down my cheek. “It’s absolutely okay. You’re a good friend, I admire that. Just don’t let Beau catch you out and about. That old man can be a little grumpy when he doesn’t have someone to cover his lunch break. Oh, and if you ever are actually sick, please let me know.” He’s so close, my body is responding in a visceral way. My stomach does a flip,warning me that maybe it’s too fast for my feelings to be more than just physical. Maybe this is the lesson the strange voice wanted me to learn; if I’m vulnerable, I’ll learn the hard way.
Sam must notice that I’m lost in thought. He lifts my chin between two fingers so that I can’t avoid looking him in the eyes. “Hey, where’d you go?”
“Sorry.” I bristle at myself, shaking off the negative energy that comes with thinking about Irina and the mystery voice. “I will, I promise. But, um, I should probably get back in there before anyone sees me and calls the landlord on me for indecent exposure.” Sam chuckles, raising an eyebrow in challenge.
“Wouldn’t be the first time you’ve exposed yourself in public around here. But I’m inclined to agree with not wanting you out here on display. Come here and give me a hug before I leave you to it.” He stretches his arms out wide for me to walk into. I take two steps forward, enveloping myself in his warm, strong, cinnamon-scented embrace. Sam lifts me up as I wrap my legs around his waist and bury my face in his neck. I don’t know what has gotten into me, but something about him caring where I was or even thinking to bring me coffee has me ready to throw all caution to the wind.
“Can I kiss you?” he whispers.
“Are you serious? Like this?”
“I’ve never been more serious about anything.” He looks me square in the eyes, heat and something else reflecting back at me.
“Yes, plea—” Before I can finish the word, his lips crash down on mine. They are soft yet firm, and I can hear a slight groan release in his throat. He breaks away, but I dive right back in, not ready to be done so fast. I slide my tongue over the seam of his lips, asking for entry. He opens, deepening the kiss as our mouths mingle, desperate to gain even an inch of purchase. I feel my back hit the side of the house as his hands wrap aroundunder my butt to hold me up. He lightly kneads and massages as we lose ourselves for who knows how long. The sparks between us are undeniable, but suddenly reality sets in that we are in public and I’m supposed to be sick. I break away, sucking in the air he has stolen from my lungs.
Sam is still holding me up, his erection pressed perfectly to my center, my arms around his neck. I bury my face in it so I don’t dive back in for round two—or would this be three? Who knows.
“That was . . . I think I need to know the brand of chips you buy.” He smirks, as I look up at him in horror.
“Oh my God. I’m so sorry. I—put me down so I can go die of embarrassment.” I swat at him trying to wriggle free.
“I’m joking, babe. That was the best kiss I’ve ever had in my entire life.” He peppers my cheek and neck with kisses, reassuring me before blowing a raspberry near my collarbone. “Can’t you tell?” He leans forward, pressing himself into me a little harder. I can’t help the squeak that tumbles from my lips as sparks ignite through my core, and my vagina turns slick. My mind is still stuck on the wordbabe. I thought I’d hate it, but weirdly I don’t.
“Um, yeah . . . yes.” I wiggle free this time, Sam setting me down gently on my feet. “It was for me too.” I can feel the pink blush racing up my neck and onto my cheeks.
“Be careful, with whatever you’re doing today.” Sam places one more kiss on my cheek, adjusts himself downstairs, and turns to walk back to his bike. I watch him put his helmet on, my stomach churning with the flaps of a thousand butterflies. He lifts his hand to wave when I shout, “Thanks, Sam. Text me.” With a quick nod, he mounts the bike and races off down the road.
I lean back against the side of the house, my fingers touching my swollen lips, and close my eyes. This man is going to be the death of me, especially if we don’t find Irina. And soon. Everytime I start to feel like maybe I could actually let myself fall for him, I get a weird tingly sensation in my arm and am ripped from dreamland back to the cold reality that I’m literally cursed. Getting myself together, I shake off the exchange and go back inside.
“How is your lover boy this morning?” Ari asks, leaning against the kitchen counter, clothed and sipping my drink.
“Was I out there that long? Give me that.” I dart across the room, grabbing my drink and taking the final glug of it. I pull the sleeve of my shirt up to my elbow, and sure enough, there’s a bag of salt-and-vinegar chips hanging out next to Boo.Oh, my hell!
Ari notices but instead of bringing it up, she responds to my question. “Nope, only maybe ten minutes, but we overslept. Howie has been waiting for us at my place for thirty minutes, so you need to move it, sister. Go rinse off from whatever just happened out there.” She shoots me a knowing look, but all I can do is smile as I skip into my bathroom to shower and change.
A quick twenty minutes later, we are out the door, rushing into Howie’s vintage Bronco idling in front of my cottage. Ari had texted him to tell him where we were so we didn’t lose any additional time. I still haven’t figured out why he’s escorting us, but I’m going with it in hopes of playing matchmaker if nothing else comes out of this day.
“Hey, Howie. How are you?” I ask, sliding into the backseat.
“Hi, Olive. I’m good.” He smiles at me in the rearview mirror, pink dusting his cheeks as Ari slides into the front passenger seat. “Where am I taking you ladies?”
“Hi, Howard. Thanks for coming with us.” Ari fastens her seat belt before patting his hand on the gear shift in gratitude. “We need to go to Salem, to the historical society to be exact.”
“Learning about witches?” His gaze meets mine in the rearview again, and I realize she didn’t tell him what we aregoing for, just that we needed to go somewhere and he jumped at the opportunity to drive us like the sweet golden retriever he is.
“Oh, sort of,” I say. Ari spins in her seat to look me in the eyes and nods. “I have a little something going on, and we are trying to get to the bottom of it.” Howie pulls away from the curb, making his way down my street and toward the edge of town.
“What’s going on that you need to go to Salem?” When he asks, he seems genuinely curious, not nosy.
“Can I trust you?” I ask, attempting to assess his response via the single small mirror in the center of the truck.
