Page 99 of De-Witched

“I’ll accept that. For now.” Melly bounced up, kissed his cheek. “Thanks, big brother.” She drew back, an impish dimple creasing hers. “About Leah...maybe you should start thinking about stepping outside some safety lines with her, too.”

He shifted, uncomfortable.

Her eyes went round as crystal balls. “Shut. Up.”

Resigned to nosy sisters, he nudged her toward a seat. This would take a while.

22

“Are you blind?” Leah cupped her hands around her mouth as she bellowed at the umpire. She’d shot out of her plastic seat at the call and now gestured wildly. “He was safe!”

Around her, other Cubs fans shouted in agreement. A large man eating a chili dog next to her lifted it in agreement. “You tell ’em, honey.”

She made a disgusted sound and plopped back in her chair. “Ridiculous. Can you believe that?”

On the other side of her, Gabriel sat with perfect posture, dressed in designer jeans, a cashmere sweater the color of his eyes and a brown suede jacket. His hair was windblown and he wore sunglasses, which reflected her outrage as he turned to look at her.

In honor of making their remaining time count, they’d decided on equal opportunity: his and hers activities. Leah had nominated baseball as their first date.

From his expression, she didn’t think he was feeling America’s pastime.

“You’re so angry,” he commented, his accent out of place in a stadium full of people who spat, scratched and swore, “about a baseball game.”

“That could have cost us,” she explained, voice hot. She curled her hands into fists, bashed them against her knee. “And this is our year.”

“It’s my understanding Cubs fans believe every year is their year, when statistics say—”

“Do I need to explain the rules again?”

“Please, Goddess, no.”

She eyed him with some humor. “You’re loving this, aren’t you?”

“Every second is an experience in pleasure,” he said, deadpan.

She shook her head. “Maybe you’re not in the proper spirit because you’re not dressed right.”

“I’m wearing jeans.”

“Aw, baby, you miss your suits?”

“Jeans are constricting.”

“You’re so weird.”

“Unlike you, the model of normal.”

She grinned, reached up and took off her hat. She undid the band to make it larger and then leaned over to place it on his head. Backward.

He sat perfectly still. “What are you doing?”

“Seeing you as a baseball fan.” Gabriel, darkly, sleekly handsome, in jeans, sweater, jacket and a backwards cap. A shiver slid through her. “It’s working for me.”

His head cocked. “Really?”

“Mmm.” She felt restless as she continued to look at him. “You sure wear the hell out of a hat, Gabe.”

He considered, sliding his sunglasses off and hooking them on his sweater. He turned the cap around so the brim shaded his eyes. “How much do you like it?”

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