Page 14 of The Wolf's Bullied Bride

She walked up to the bar wearing a tight black dress that demanded my undivided attention. It hugged every curve with such perfection that I didn’t want to look away. Paired with a delicate sweep of makeup and how perfectly her long black hair cascaded down her back in careful waves, her beauty was a force to be reckoned with.

Silently, I cursed myself for not knowing her name. It would be a shame not to strike up a conversation with her.

Holding on to the courage the booze instilled in me, I nodded in her direction. “Interesting meeting you here, reporter lady. Out of everyone here, I think I’ve seen your face the most.”

Startled by the sight of me, she hesitated and seemed almost mortified. It made me wonder if I was really that intimidating. But I watched as she pulled in a breath and seemed to collect herself.

The calm in her face seemed inspired by the booze in her system. “I’m always around town because of my job. You’ll likely see me often.”

A neutral response. While it didn’t give me much to work with, it was something.

“Speaking of work, how’s that piece on me going?”

She pulled a calculated smile as if braving a conversation she didn’t necessarily want to be a part of. “It’s already done. It’ll be printed by the beginning of next week.”

Even if she didn’t want anything to do with me, I found her too intriguing to quit. It was unlike me to be overly chatty with anyone other than my clients, but something about her felt so encouraging. So enticing.

“You’re quick.”

She sighed and signaled the bartender for another drink. “The news cycle moves fast, and so do I.”

Despite my half-assed attempt, she left no room for flattery. Not only was she headstrong and stubborn, but she seemed determined to keep me out in every sense. There was an arm’s length between us, and I had the feeling it would take some convincing to remove that wall she pitched.

Regardless of what I had to say, she was standoff-ish. While that should’ve been a deterrent, especially coming from me—someone who usually wasn’t interested in entertaining meaningless flirtations—I only felt more engaged.

I was curious.

“So, what’s your poison?”

She looked taken aback by the question, and when she furrowed her brows back at me, I continued.

“If you’re in this town, there must be something strange about you.”

The journalist examined me for a moment, then reluctantly presented her palm to me. Immediately, a glowing white sphere of light appeared before it took on a deep green hue. It flickered within her palm, and there was no doubting that manifested magic.

That brilliant green color reflected in her eyes, and a shiver ran down my spine. There was something sexy about it.

Swallowing hard, I nodded my understanding and chuckled. “Witch, then. I figured as much.”

She narrowed her eyes at me slightly as if wondering how it was any business of mine. “Is that a problem?”

Smiling passively, I carefully moved the glass of whiskey in between my fingers, letting it rotate against the bar top. “Not at all. I hear most witches are adventurous.”

Relief moved through her gaze, and I thought I saw her relax a bit. Finally accepting the conversation, she sat down on the stool next to mine and graciously took her drink from the bartender.

She snickered at my statement. “You’re right about that.”

Beginning to slowly lose myself in the conversation, I didn’t care about what else was going on in the bar. With whiskey in my system and the intriguingly beautiful woman in front of me, I couldn’t help but feel like I had found the object of my desire for the night.

“A lot has changed since I was last here,” I said, thinking about my childhood. “There weren’t as many witches back then.”

“Shifters weren’t always so accepting of us,” she said, nodding in agreement. “But with a rise in shifter-witch relationships, there’s been less prejudice.”

“The Goddess decided there needed to be magic-wielding shifters, huh?”

To my surprise, she chuckled at my joke. “Something like that.”

That wonderful sound sent warmth through my chest, and I knew I had to hear it again. Seeing her more at ease and less resistant to speaking with me made everything feel easier, and I was making progress with her.

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