Page 39 of Hex Appeal

“Why?”

Because when I wake up, this might feel different. I don't say that. Instead, I draw a lazy circle against his chest.

“I'm enjoying myself.”

“You can enjoy yourself tomorrow.”

My eyes are already closing. “Bossy.”

“Go to sleep.”

“Fine.”

I snuggle closer. For several seconds, neither of us moves.

Then Welles sighs. The mattress shifts. I make a noise of protest when his warmth disappears.

“Where are you going?”

“To prevent your house from burning down.”

My eyes crack open. He crosses the bedroom completely naked, heading straight for the candle burning on my dresser.

Even half asleep, I take a moment to appreciate the view.

He looks back. “Are you checking out my ass?”

“No.”

“Liar.”

I just shrug. He shakes his head.

Then Fire Chief Welles Hawthorne leans toward the candle, closes his eyes as if he’s making a wish, and blows out the flame.

Darkness settles over the room.

A few seconds later, the mattress dips and his warmth returns.

He pulls me against him. “Now,” he murmurs against my hair, “go to sleep.”

A week later, there’s a fire burning in my backyard.

For once, I’m reasonably certain Chief Hawthorne would approve. The flames are contained inside a metal fire pit on the stone patio, there’s a bucket of water nearby, and nothing flammable is within reach.

I checked. Twice.

Apparently, sleeping with a fire chief changes a woman.

“Welcome, ladies, to Hexes for Exes.” Valerie lifts her cocktail glass in a toast.

The rest of us raise ours.

It’s girls’ night at Spellbound, although we closed the bar to the public an hour ago and moved the festivities out back. Valerie created a special cocktail for the occasion, while I supplied candles intended for letting go and new beginnings.

And, because we can never do anything halfway, there’s a handwritten sign propped beside the fire that reads: BURN, BABY, BURN.

Our instructions for the evening are simple.