Page 22 of Bewitched By the Werewolf
“Something wrong, sugar?”
“No, sorry. Nothing’s wrong just…intrigued by your drink names. They’re very…unique.”
The woman’s smile returns, and she stands up tall beaming at me. “Thank you. I pride myself on my uniqueness when itcomes to creating specialty drinks. So, which one strikes your fancy?”
I figure I might as go all in on the eclipse thing. Cinnamon Fireball sounds good. “I’ll try the Blood Moon.”
“You got it.” Plucking a tall glass from the rack, she sets it on the rubber grip drip pad and sets to pulling bottles to make the drink. “So, what brings you to town? Don’t think I’ve seen you before.”
“Yeah, I get that a lot. You all really do know everyone don’t you?”
“Hazard of a small town. But it’s also a good thing. We look out for each other, so when a new person arrives in town, we all pay attention. I’m Evelyn by the way, me and my husband, Abe, own the bar. What about you? What’s your name?”
I don’t take any offense to her inquiry. It’s common, just like she said, for a small town to notice a newcomer and be curious. It’s not like I haven’t already heard this question a dozen times over already.
“Tess. I’m here for the blood moon eclipse. Wanted to get a good clear view of it. A friend told me about Snowberry, and I thought it was a good excuse to get out of the city for a while.”
Evelyn asks a few more repetitive questions. Who’s my friend, how do I know him, have I ever been to town before? Etcetera etcetera. It’ll all very expected at this point and I’ve had ample practice with my lies. Unless this Sam guy shows up and bursts my carefully crafted bubble, I should be fine.
Evelyn finishes pouring and mixing her concoction. It’s as blood red and I expect the moon will be during the eclipse. She tops it with a slice of blood orange on the rim, and I chuckle at the pun. That is pretty good, though I doubt the flavor will work well with fireball. I’m pleasantly surprised to be wrong when I sip the drink and catch the splash of citrus in the flavor.
“Wow, that is really good.”
“Thank you.” Evelyn bows her head good-humoredly then moves on to assist another guest.
I’m settling into my spicy and relaxing drink when I hear the door open and shut behind me. It’s opened a closed a few times since I entered but there’s something about this time that has the hair on the back of my neck standing on end, and even over the cinnamon citrus of my drink I can smell another citrus. One that’s far more illicit and demanding. I can’t stop myself from looking over my shoulder to spot the very person I expected to find.
Ryder strolls in all cool and commanding. When he spots me sitting at the bar and our eyes connect, I can see he was not expecting to find me here anymore than I expected him to come strolling in.
To his credit, his face doesn’t contort or smile. He doesn’t express any change in emotion at all, but I can see his muscles tighten and his fingers twitch at his side. I guess he’s not as unaffected by me as I thought. I just can’t tell if it’s a good effect or a bad one. It’s not quite attraction or repulsion. I think he’s more curious and irritated by me for some reason.
I’ll admit, I can be quite vexing. It’s a gift. I think it comes from my inability to reign in my mouth. I don’t like suppressing my natural instinct to argue and sass. With Ryder though I don’t have to control myself as much, which makes for a far more entertaining conversation. I like riling him up and watching him squirm, there’s just something about it that thrills me.
Ryder redirects his path directly to me and I swivel around to face him, sipping through my tiny straw and letting the liquor work its magic on my nerves. The warmth that settles in my gut when he gets closer is just a product of the cocktail, not my growing infatuation with the burly man.
“Didn’t expect to see you here,” I blurt out when he’s within a respectable distance that wouldn’t appear like I’m shouting at the man across the room.
“It’s Saturday night.” Is all he says, like it’s all the explanation in the world he needs. I suppose it is. Where else would any adult be on a Saturday night in a small town with only one bar?
Ryder takes a seat on a stool two over from me, putting distance between us. Most guys would take the seat directly at my side and try to get as close as possible. I can’t decide if I like or hate that he sat so far away. No actually I do know, I dislike it. Plus, now I know it’ll bother him if I do sit close to him. So just to irk him—and please myself—I butt hop from my stool to the one right next to him. The stools are far enough apart that we don’t touch, but he still bristles at my sudden nearness, scowling at me. I smile up at him all innocent and batting lashes.
He just ignores me but shifts uncomfortably before waving down Evelyn.
“Hey Sheriff. You want your regular?”
“Yes please.”
Evelyn turns and begins pouring a beer from a spout.
“Ooh so polite. I didn’t even know you knew the word please,” I tease.
“I know lots of words,” he bristles but then remains silent.
“So, you know words but not how to use them? You know there’s people who can help with that calledteachers. And if that’s not enough and you need more one on one, there’s also speech therapists. My cousin went to one, helped him a ton. You should look into it.”
I look up at him through my lashes and pull the bar straw back to my lips, sipping as I stare up at the brooding man glaring down at me. This is way too much fun. I could do this all night. I won’t, because I have plans to go hunting later. So, sadly, I will only be having the one, maybe two drinks. That doesn’t mean Iwon’t milk it to last as long as possible and tease Ryder the entire time.
“I’ll keep that in mind,” he grumbles.
