Page 53 of The Witch is Back

She grabbed hold of her nerves, packed them down. Goddess. As if it wasn’t bad enough she was still attracted to him; she could not let him see the effect he had on her control.

She needed to move so she did, stepping away from her door and heading to the kitchen to...do what, she didn’t know.

“I take it that’s your way of saying I won’t embarrass you?” She played it off with a casual tone as she changed Chester’s water, careful not to spill on her dress. Normally she’d do it with magic, but she didn’t trust the faucet not to go Niagara Falls on her.

“You’d never embarrass me.”

The sincerity in his voice was just as sexy as his ass. Damn it.

Too much, it was too much. She needed to break the tension. She didn’t think twice, spun in a full circle to change her outfit. “I’ll take that bet.”

He took one look and a genuine laugh rolled out, deep and rich and thoroughly amused. “Okay. You could embarrass me if you wore that.”

“You don’t think it suits me?” Her cheeks heated as she pretended to be absolutely fine dressed as a giant hot dog. It was worth it in the name of friendship. Better that than that dark, hot navy stare that undressed as it went. A shiver started low and rolled up her body as she shifted in place.

“I didn’t say that.” He came forward, laughter still creasing his cheeks. “Though if we’re talking couple’s costumes, I think it might be more appropriate if I was the hot dog and you were the bun.”

Words failed her. Like they always did when he did this...flirting thing. Was she supposed to say something flirty back? Was that what friends/platonic husband-and-wife duos did?

He was within touching distance now. The sweater looked soft. She wondered if it would feel that way if she reached out.

“Cat got your tongue?” he teased.

Get it together. “I don’t think—I should encourage you.” Her stomach knotted at the hesitant way the words emerged.

Usually, this was the point her date would blink, try and hide surprise at her shyness, the way her sentences would stop-start like an escalator on the fritz. Maybe flinch, depending on the dick quotient, as Tia called it.

Of course, this wasn’t a date and Bastian did none of those things. Instead, he shrugged.

“You should absolutely encourage me. Isn’t that what a wife does for her husband? Besides, I think you secretly like it.”

She hoped he didn’t know that for certain. She didn’t think she was projecting, but she knew if an image was strong enough, he could pick up on it.

Throwing up another layer onto her shields, just in case, Emma pulled off a sneer. Or what she hoped was one. “I do not.”

His dimple flashed. “Do.”

“Don’t.”

“Do.”

“Don’t.”

“Yeah, you do, and you know how I can tell?” He snagged a finger over her cheek. Electricity snapped through her, stealing her breath. “These get red.”

“That’s because I’m embarrassed for you.”

“I’m not the one dressed as a wiener.”

“You’re just acting like one?”

He laughed again, making his expression dance. He looked more like the Bastian she remembered than he had since he’d come back. She couldn’t decide if that was a good thing. “Emmaline Bluewater.” He shook his head, and then snapped his fingers. A portal opened in the center of the room.

“Must be the hunger,” he said, gesturing for her to precede him. “So let’s get you fed.”

Locking her knees, she restored her dress and walked through the portal with him close behind. It closed at his command and she found they were within a block of the restaurant.

Drizzle peppered her skin as they began to walk.

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