Page 20 of Untraced Magic
I watched as Wes fended off a stunning blonde eager for his attention, but he dismissed her, wrenching some guy off Skye who was closest, followed by Morgan.
He returned with them in tow, and fuck if I couldn’t predict it would happen, Morgan slid across the leather booth beside me, with Skye and Wes on the other side of her. Her dress hitched high up her creamy thighs as she shuffled closer, trying to make room for everyone in the now overcrowded booth.
“Hey, you made it,” she said to me in a breathy gasp.
Nodding stiffly, I retorted, “Yeah, here I am.”
I shuffled along, attempting to make extra room, but I was crammed in between her and Colt, with Scarlet who had just arrived on the other side of him. It left Morgan’s arm and thigh bolted to mine, spreading heat between us with every movement.
“Letting off some steam out there?” I remarked, attempting to make small talk.
The corners of her lips curled up into a smile, and it lit up every delicate edge of her face. “Definitely. This place is something else…”
A familiar voice came from the head of the table. “Well, this place is mine, so thanks, I’ll claim that one.”
Morgan’s eyes shot over to Reid leaning casually against the end of the booth. He’d bought and revamped the oldest bar in town, and he’d done a killer job.
Reid had the darkest gift of the group. A blood mage with the ability to heal, and with that sort of power came huge sacrifice. I knew his bravado act was just a front hiding a world of pain, but he kept it to himself. His natural charm and rough around the edges look of tattoos and brown hair made him a fan of most women, but he had no plans to settle down anytime soon, even when the four of us guys were pushing thirty.
My attention turned back to the group, where Morgan looked more relaxed now, both giving and taking the banter around the table. Funny how alcohol did that to a person.
Reid eyed me. “Ty, when will you have that Mustang finished?”
I felt Morgan’s gaze return to me, and I straightened, causing her skin to brush against mine again. I adjusted in my seat, trying to regain some space, but it was no use.
Clearing my throat, I told him, “Just have to replace the leather, then a lick of paint and it should be done.”
Reid grinned. “Sweet, new wheels in town. I swear I get high off a new fit out.” He chuckled.
He was right. The hit of a new leather interior was dopamine at its best.
“So, you’re not a mechanic,” said Morgan, a curiosity wavering into her tone. “You restore cars?” She raised a brow.
I slid my gaze to hers, adjusting my collar. There were barely inches separating us; being this close to her in any other situation would be borderline intimate.
Colt slid a beer in my direction, and I took a drink.
“The workshop was my grandfather’s; it was left to me when he passed. I restore classics, and the Mustang was his. He never got to finish it,” I explained.
Her face fell the tiniest bit. “Oh. I’m so sorry to hear that. But it’s nice you’re able to finish it for him.”
“It is,” I stated simply with a nod. “He was one of a kind, taught me to drive in it.”
Her eyes held mine for a passing moment until I had to look away. I tightened my grip on my beer.
“My dad had a classic.” My ears pricked at her comment. “An original Ford Escort.”
“Yeah?” I took another swig of my drink.
She nodded. “It was his pride and joy. Drove it round town like a hobnob.”
I stifled a laugh but couldn’t stop the slight smile turning up my mouth. “Was? Did he sell it?”
She shifted in her seat, and the motion grazed the side of her leg over mine once more. Her body seemed to tense, and she fiddled with her necklace again.
Before she could answer, a bell sounded from the bar.
“Who’s keen on a dance before last drinks?” said Skye, her voice commanding the table.
