His smile is blinding. “Good. I know I can’t take you out the traditional way, but I got some stuff up my sleeve to make up for it. Plus, I’ll put out after.”
“Put out?” I gasp. “It’s only our first date. What kind of girl do you take me for?”
Chuckling, he sets me down and nudges my chin playfully with his forefinger. “I saw you checking me out, girl. It can be our little secret.”
He tosses me a wink before backing away, and for once, I don’t try to push it. I close my bedroom door and collapse back on my bed, grinning up at the ceiling.
I’ve got a date with a fugitive.
Twenty-Three:
Good Girls Put Out
Even when Killian lets me out of the room, he covers my eyes until we’re in the kitchen. It’s worth the wait. He’s thrown a table cloth over the old faded wood, decorated with four black LED candles of all different heights, a cauldron in the center filled with ice and bottles of liquor, and the whole house smells amazing from whatever he’s got in the oven.
I don’t know what I expected, but it wasn’t this.
“Killian, it’s...” Perfect? Amazing? More than any man has ever done for me before? “I love it.”
“Yeah?” He sounds adorably excited about my response. “Awesome. It’s not Halloween, so I didn’t have as many options as I was hoping, but I did my best. You said you came here to be a bog witch, and instead you had to take care of my sick ass last week, so I wanted to make up for it. Chicken parm is in the oven, but for now I thought we could make some potions. You’ll make mine and I’ll make yours.”
To be seen is to be loved.
Is that what this is?
Spinning, I meet his eyes and can’t say anything at all for several heartbeats. “Thank you,” I say quietly. “You...”
Words escape me, so I rock up on my toes to kiss him instead before turning back to the potions.
This will probably be hilarious.
Killian steps up to press his body against my back, his face dipping down so he can kiss along my neck slowly. “You’re welcome.”
His whisper travels down my spine and has me nearly demanding we skip to the end of the date where he puts out,but he steps away before I can. “Alright, so I wasn’t sure which alcohol was your favorite but I have more mixers in the fridge if your recipe calls for something you don’t see here. I wrote out a few recipes on these cards so mix them up and pick one without peeking and don’t tell me what it is until after. You’re welcome to tweak whatever you want to, I figured the recipes are just a good starting point for us since we’re brand new witches.”
“We?” I raise an eyebrow, chuckling as I grab the cards to mix them. “Mmhm. We.”
“If you’re a witch, I’m a witch,” he responds with a smirk. “And no, that isn’t at all a quote I took fromThe Notebookand made better. Don’t know what you mean.”
That’s exactly what he did, but I’d take Killian over Noah every day of the week. “I meant that only one of us is brand new and it’s not me,” I laugh, pulling a card and hiding it as I hold the rest out to him. “Pick your poison.”
“That’s fair, but if my potion comes out better, you’re going to be very embarrassed,” he teases, biting his lip as he slides his fingers along the cards before tugging one out.
The grin he has when he glances down at it should scare me, but I’m too happy to give a shit.
Glancing down, I see the “potion” I picked is called Black Widow, consisting of tequila, lime juice, agave, and blackberry juice. I’m amazed he put so much thought into these even if he probably got them off the internet.
Each time I glance up, I find myself staring at him. The way his hair falls over his forehead, the short stubble he’s grown along his strong jaw, and the flirty smile he tosses me that could bring any woman to their knees. I still can’t comprehend how someone like him ended up all alone in the world.
He’s giving his potion more attention to detail than my fiancé ever gave anything involving me, and I‘m having a little bit of a hard time with it.
Experience tells me not to trust this, but if I can’t trust my eyes, my ears, the butterflies in my chest or my beating heart, what can I trust?
He’s different. Killian’s different. And even if it turns out that he’s not... it still feels like the ride will be worth it.
When my drink is done, I wait for him to finish, watching him as he pours the red concoction into a sugar-rimmed glass. “Done. What you got for me over there?”
He nods down at mine and meets my gaze, making me blush.