Page 47 of Fangs and Fudge

“You just want the blood fudge,” Vena said. “Everly, you need to be less accident-prone before he gets addicted to you.”

“Too late,” he said.

CHAPTER EIGHT

The things Cross did and said were messing with my head and my libido. Why did he have to look so damn good in a suit?

“Both of you, out,” I said. “This kitchen is not big enough.”

With Cross standing near me and Vena verbally poking at him, another accidental injury would likely take place, and I wasn’t sure I’d survive Cross’ miracle tongue-licking so soon.

By the time I had the fudge packed and ready to go, Vena had the map pulled up on her phone.

Cross opened the door for us and had his own batch of fudge tucked under his other arm as we left the house. It didn’t stop him from helping me stow the rest of the fudge in the backseat or opening the driver’s door for me.

After I sat down, he said, “Call me if you need me. I’ll be around.”

“You’ll be getting more information, you mean,” Vena said.

Cross looked at me. “I’ll be around.”

He closed the door and stepped back as I pulled away.

The navigation routed me north out of the immediate downtown area toward Rock Creek Park. Vena was quiet until we hit the highway.

“Are we going to talk about shower time with Cross and how he tasted your lips?”

I tapped the steering wheel for a moment.

“Sure. Let’s talk about how screwed I am because I have a best friend with a fetish for trouble. It all started with a ring…”

“Hey now. Let’s not go pointing ring fingers. The way you blushed when he mentioned kissing means it wasn’t horrible.”

I sighed, knowing that she wasn’t going to let this go. And she shouldn’t. I needed to talk to someone about it.

“It wasn’t horrible. If I’m being honest with myself and you, I liked it a lot.”

“That’s good.”

“Is it, Vena? He’s a vampire. His eyes go black at the mention of blood.”

“Hey, I was watching when he stuck your finger into his mouth. He didn’t vamp out.”

I shook my head. “It feels like I’m playing with fire with him. And I don’t want to get burned.”

“Makes sense. You’ve always been the play-it-safe type.”

I made a face at her for making me sound like a prude. “Whatever.”

“Just have some fun, Everly. We’re young. We’re single. Why can’t we let our hips mingle?”

“Okay, that sounded wrong on too many levels to even address.” And yet, I was glad she’d said it. Knowing that she supported whatever decision I might make helped me feel better about it.

“Since we both know you don’t filter well, when we get to wherever it is we’re going, I’ll do the talking, and you just look pretty.”

Vena snorted. “You gave me the easy job.”

We arrived at a wooded lot adjacent to the park. The extra drive through the two open gates was edged by a nice walking path.

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