Page 74 of Wedded Witch

“Care to share?” He leans in slightly, not enough to close the distance, but just enough to make the air between us feel thicker, charged.

I chuckle softly, shaking my head. “Nope, not yet.”

His smile widens, and he turns his attention back to the road, though I can still feel the weight of his eyes on me, lingering. My heart beats a little faster, my palms getting just a touch sweatier.

How is it possible for someone to make you feel so grounded yet so out of control at the same time?

We don’t talk much as we drive, but the silence isn’t uncomfortable. It’s loaded, like we’re both waiting for something to break it. Every time our fingers brush, that little spark ignites, leaving me hyper-aware of his presence next to me.

At one point, I shift in my seat, trying to get comfortable, and my knee bumps into his. I freeze for a second, but Kel just glances down at the point of contact, then up at me, his smile widening into something more mischievous.

“Careful there,” he says, his voice smooth, teasing. “Or I might start thinking you’re doing that on purpose.”

I shake my head, but I can’t help the smile tugging at my lips. “Maybe I am.”

The words slip out before I can stop them, and for a moment, I’m surprised at myself. But Kel doesn’t miss a beat. His hand moves just a little closer, his pinky brushing against mine with deliberate intent this time.

His thumb grazes the side of my hand, slow, gentle, and it sends a shiver up my arm.

“You don’t seem like the type to make empty threats,” he says, voice low, teasing. There’s a hint of heat beneath his tone now, something that’s been simmering between us for a while, finally breaking through.

“And you don’t seem like the type to back down from a challenge.” My voice is softer than I intended, and I feel the tension coil tighter between us, like a spring ready to snap.

Kel glances at me again, his eyes darker now, filled with something I recognise all too well but haven’t had the nerve to act on. Until now.

I decide to push my luck. I let my fingers move closer, my hand sliding under his, our palms just barely touching now. It’s a small, subtle movement, but it feels like a spark in a room full of gas.

He shifts slightly, his eyes never leaving mine, and then he flips his hand, capturing mine fully. His fingers thread through mine, and I swear the air between us crackles.

“Looks like neither of us is backing down,” he murmurs, his thumb rubbing slow circles on the back of my hand.

“Nope,” I reply, my voice breathless, the weight of this moment settling between us.

I look away, smiling to myself as I glance out of the window. The sun is setting, casting long shadows across the road, and for the first time in what feels like days, I’m able to push aside thoughts of curses and dark magic and just focus on this moment.

We pull into town, but the world outside the truck feels far away now. The only thing I’m aware of is the way his thumb keeps grazing my skin, sending tiny jolts of electricity straight to my core.

I haven’t even touched his lips, and I already feel like I’m unravelling under his touch.

The streets are quiet, only a few locals milling about. Kel’s truck rumbles to a stop in front of a slightly run-down-looking bar with a sign that swings gently in the breeze.

As soon as he cuts the engine I can hear the faint hum of live music even through the closed doors. It feels like we’re in the middle of nowhere, and yet this little dive bar has a charm I hadn’t expected.

Strings of fairy lights twinkle from the rafters, and the soft strumming of a guitar floats out into the crisp evening air.

“I think you’ll like this place,” Kel says with a grin, getting out of the truck and coming around to open my door.

I smile up at him, feeling the warmth of his presence as he helps me down. His hand lingers on mine for just a second longer than necessary, and that familiar spark between us happens again.

I’m not sure if it’s just the thrill of being on a date with him, or if it’s something more, but tonight feels special. There’s a flutter in my chest again, the same one I’ve been trying to ignore.

Is this what finding your mate feels like?

“After you,” he says, a smirk still playing on his lips.

I step past him, our arms brushing as I walk inside. It’s like I can feel the heat of him following me, even though he’s still a step behind.

The bar is cosy, with old wooden tables and mismatched chairs. The atmosphere is warm, with the low hum of conversation mingling with the music.

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