Page 51 of Midlife Witch Unexpected

Chapter 30

“Where are we going?” Branson asked as he got into my jeep.

“The gas station,” I said, throwing the Wrangler into gear.

“Do you need gas?” Branson leaned towards me to look at the gas gauge. Even the proximity of his skin made me warm between the thighs. If this was menopause, it was going to be super bad for me. I didn’t remember a time in my life when I had felt so sexually aroused. I still wasn’t sure if it was menopause, my single-ness, the proximity of Branson, or a combination of all three. But regardless, I couldn’t stop thinking about sex when he was around. But not just transactional. There was something around him that was so earthy and so-

“Focus!” I said the word out loud.

Branson cocked an eyebrow at me.

“I don’t need gas. But he did, or I think he did,” I said. “But maybe he just went down there to get snacks. If it was gas, then he might be on the road. If it was snacks, he might be staying close by. So, we’re going to go down and find out.”

“That makes no sense to me,” Branson said.

“That’s because you’re too much of a supernatural,” I smirked. “You’ve got to be a bit of a Normie to get this one. This is a crime scene investigation. As a middle-aged woman who just recently got out of a marriage, I am somewhat of an expert.”

“You’re an expert at crime scene investigation?” Branson shook his head in doubt.

“I’m an expert in the show CSI,” I said. “Every episode. Every season. Every franchise. I know how to find bad guys.”

“Trying to figure out ways to kill your husband?” Branson asked.

Laughter burst out of me, despite me.

“No.” I choked the laugh back. “I was in love with him the whole time we were married. Really deeply in love. It’s just sad he wasn’t who he thought he was. He hijacked my dream of a happily ever after. And I’m not even supposed to be mad at him about that. I just wish he could have figured himself out and come out twenty years ago. It would have saved me a whole lot of heartache.”

“It's never too late for happily ever after,” Branson said.

“Shut up,” I said, raising my index finger towards him. “You are not allowed to talk to me about happily ever after. Nope. No way. Nuh-uh. You are all way too much of a package there,” I said, moving my hand around the general vicinity of his lean, solid torso.

He smiled at me.

“And you shouldn’t smile at me either,” I insisted.

He grabbed my finger in his hand and squeezed it as I quickly pulled it back like it was burning.

“Definitely no touching,” I said.

I gripped the steering wheel fiercely with both hands. There was no way I was going to let him derail me. “We’re looking for Anita," I stated what he apparently needed to hear again.

“But what are you going to do at the gas station?” Branson asked. “Find out what kind of chips he bought?”

“No, I’m going to find out what he bought,” I said, pulling into the station and throwing the car in park.

The long-haired woolly hat seemed to keep the young, male attendant warm in the cold interior of the gas station. His name tag read, Ferndale.

“You need a heater in here, Ferndale,” I said, rubbing my hands in the cold.

“You’re telling me,” The attendant held up his gloved hands, wiggling the tips of his fingers that were sticking out.

“There was a guy in here this morning,” I said. “I want to see his receipt.”

Branson looked at me sideways, giving a gentle nod like he was mildly impressed with my forthrightness. This was nothing to be impressed with. One of our coven members was at risk. I couldn’t imagine if that was my daughter. We were going to stop at nothing to get her back.

“Do you have a badge or something?” Ferndale asked, his dark hair falling in front of his face.

“I’m The Hayes,” I said it casually as if I really shouldn’t have had to say it at all, but I was doing him a favor by letting him now. He stared at me blankly looking suitably unimpressed.

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