Page 32 of Once Upon a Curse for True Love
“Hypothetically speaking.”He ran a hand through his liberated locks.“If a witch had cursed a cop’s hair, how long would it take for the curse to wear off?”
“Hypothetically,” Andromeda replied, her expression as pure as bottled moonlight, and with as many side effects, “two to three weeks.”
“You said days, right?”Donatello leaned forward, eyes narrowing.
“No, weeks,” she corrected, taking an unconcerned sip of her tea.“Especially if our hypothetical witch got really pissed off by our hypothetical cop.”
“So our hypothetical cop is going to be purple for half a month?”
“Unless he hypothetically apologizes.”The challenge in her voice was unmistakable.
Donatello snorted.“I’d prefer to choke on kung pao than give you the satisfaction.”
“Is that why you’re foregoing chewing?”
“Would you rather I moaned with every bite like you do?”he shot back.
Her cheeks colored.“I don’t moan over my food.”
“Oh no?”Donatello set down his chopsticks and did his best impression of her eating, complete with exaggerated expressions of bliss and breathy little sounds of appreciation.
The blush spreading across Andromeda’s cheeks deepened, but her eyes narrowed in a challenge.“If I ever moan, detective, trust me—you’ll know the difference.”
The air between them became charged with possibility.Donatello stared at her lips, wondering how they would taste, how they would feel against his.Something molten and urgent pooled in his gut.
“Makes me want to skip straight to dessert.”His tone took on a darker lilt, the kind that led nowhere smart.
Andromeda’s breaths came a touch faster, but she kept her expression cool.“Bold of you to assume dessert’s on the menu.”
“C’mon, Swan.”He grinned, enjoying the way she tapped her fingers on the table when he leaned closer, a silent Morse code of don’t-push-your-luck.“There’s always room for dessert.”
“Room, sure,” she replied, her voice a touch huskier than before.“That doesn’t mean you’re getting a spoon.”
“Never say never,” Donatello countered, tipping his head, eyes not leaving hers.“And I’m not afraid to eat with my hands if the situation calls for it.”
She didn’t respond.Just looked at him as a new pressure vibrated between them.
Of course, that was the precise moment their server appeared at their table, cheerful and oblivious.“Can I interest either of you in dessert tonight?”
Donatello’s eyes never left Andromeda’s as he politely declined, watching as she did the same.The moment the server retreated, they both burst into laughter—nervous, hysterical guffawing that did nothing to dissipate the tension but made it more bearable.
The heat was still there when their eyes met again, simmering beneath their shared amusement.So much for professionalism, because sex with the courtroom complication, hair-cursing, pain-in-his-ass witch was definitelyonthe menu now.
Chapter Fourteen
Detective Tall, Teasing, andSo MuchTrouble
ANDROMEDA
The server placed two fortune cookies beside their bill before wishing them a good night.Andromeda eyed the wrapped treats, too aware that dinner with Detective Charming-and-Confusing was about to end.Now she wished she’d ordered dessert—if only to stall.
She reached for a cookie, hoping the sugar would fill the space he was about to leave empty.The cellophane crinkled as she tore it open, the sound echoing too loud in the hushed atmosphere they’d fallen into after exhausting their verbal sparring.The shell broke between her fingers, revealing the small strip of paper inside.
Andromeda read the message silently:If you’re thinking about it, they are too.
She snorted.
“Something funny?”Donatello asked as he reached for his cookie.
