Page 67 of De-Witched

“Pegs.”

“You get what vicariously means, right?”

“I get that if you’re that hard up, it means you need to go out on the hunt.”

“You going to come with, or are you and Goodnight now a thing?”

The balloon popped, reality leaking in. Leah’s smile faded. “I don’t think so. He stopped.”

“And I thank him for it, since old Mrs. Malloy across the street would’ve given us an earful about public lewdness.”

Leah winced. She’d forgotten her nosy neighbor. “Oh, God. Well, tomorrow’s problem.” She waved it away. “No, I mean, he didn’t want to come in.”

Peggy held up a hand, prompting Sylvie to butt her head against it. “He said no to sex?”

“I didn’t say sex, but it was implied, and yeah, he said he couldn’t.”

“He couldn’t?” Peggy’s expression took on a pained slant. “You mean...medically?”

“No,” Leah choked. Delilah huffed at the lack of attention and trotted over to Peggy. “Can confirm, no problems in that area.”

“Damn shame if he had. So, is he looking to just be friends?”

“Maybe?” Although she had to choose her words, Leah admitted it was nice being able to talk about Gabriel and know Peggy wasn’t going to go shrieking into the night. Leah having feelings for the Warlock of Contempt? The horror. “He’s...only here temporarily. Proving something to his family’s company.”

“Sounds Shakespearean. Where is this company?”

“New Orleans.”

“Okay, makes a little more sense. Folks go wild down there, I think it’s the heat and the mysticism. Voodoo and witches.” She rolled her eyes and Leah tried not to give anything away. “So, you’re thinking he doesn’t want to get attached?”

Leah imagined what Gabriel would say to that, amused even as part of her flinched. “Goodnights don’t get attached.”

“Sounds pompous.”

“Oh, he is. And rude, blunt, dictatorial, stubborn...”

“Sounds hot.”

“You don’t know the half of it.” But she sighed, slumping, picking at her jeans. “He pretends not to care, but I think he might care too much. And he hates that because...well, he’d rather be alone than have to care or be cared about. Or at least I think that’s what it is.” It echoed within her, a self-truth she didn’t want to acknowledge. Because deep down she knew she kept people close until they threatened to make her care too much. And—“I—I like him,” she admitted, disturbed. “More than I should.”

“Why?”

“He makes me feel...not in control. Like life won’t be the same when he’s gone.”

“He might not go.”

He would. No amount of charm and vivaciousness in the world could keep him. “He will,” she confirmed, hollow. “Maybe it’s better to know.”

“All right.” Peggy clapped her hands, sat forward, eyes direct. “Say he will. What happens if you both acknowledge that but indulge in a little fun first?”

The idea taunted her, a slide of silk across exposed skin. The side of her that hated to be vulnerable shied away, but the other part, the part that craved Gabriel—Gabe—couldn’t stand the idea of not seeing this through. A few weeks of passion before saying goodbye. An affair with guidelines built in.

She shouldn’t even be entertaining the idea. Everyone would lose their shit. But then, it was nobody’s business but theirs. Her risk to take. On every level.

Could she be brave enough, was the question.

“Ugh.” Leah pulled on her own hair, frustrated with herself. “We got any ice cream left?”

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