Page 36 of Hell Hath No Fury
I might’ve been a badass motorcycle riding witch, but I was one who baked when she was nervous. I contained a multitude of talents.
“Touché,” I said, my voice huskier than before. “You don’t know that I’m not a serial killer. I’d be happy to give you a ride outside the property to the closest town so you can try your luck with a broken leg, no name, no money and no memory of the people out there who would likely be pissed to see you on the street, alive and everything.”.
It was certainly the safest option. For me, at least. Him? Not so much.
But I couldn’t promise that keeping him here was any less dangerous… With a possible civil war in the coven’s midst and a somewhat murderous attitude toward strange men on land that was not meant for them.
I’d have to spell the cottage so he couldn’t go wandering. Not that he’d go far with that leg. But he struck me as a determined kind of guy who didn’t much care if pain got in the way.
He shouldn’t be standing right now. But there he was.
As he pondered my offer, I took the opportunity to take the muffins from the oven, their freshly baked fragrance filling the air.
“Or I could call the police?” I offered, placing the tray on the counter.
His face contorted. “No police,” he grunted.
I grinned. “A man after my own heart.”
We didn’t enjoy the most harmonious of relationships with local law enforcement. We were a bunch of women who rodemotorcycles and didn’t want to fuck anyone in the force… Of course, they hated us.
They didn’t trouble us much, but we steered clear of them as much as possible. We didn’t need the hassle of having to deal with them.
“Why would you help me?” he demanded.
I held my breath as I waited for him to ask more. Ask about the connection he obviously felt. The familiarity that was impossible.
But he didn’t.
“Because I’m a good Samaritan,” I responded with a smile.
The tilt of his head told me he didn’t buy that.
I sighed, resting my back against the counter. “Because having you here is probably not a great decision, but having you here will also likely keep me from making an even worse decision,” I blurted.
I hadn’t intended on saying that.
But I was coming to understand I couldn’t lie to him. For whatever reason.
I prayed he didn’t ask me to explain further… Although most sane people would. That was an impossibly vague and ominous thing to say, especially under the current circumstances.
He glanced from me to the counter.
“What flavor muffins are those?”
I bit my lip against my smile. “Raspberry and lemon.”
He nodded curtly. “I’ll stay.”
Something inside of me relaxed, unfurled. And I swore the house let out a sigh of relief.
CHAPTER SIX
We sat at the breakfast nook with muffins and coffee, the area bathed in gentle light. There was no more wind.
We hadn’t spoken in a while.
“You need a name,” I informed him.
