Chapter 9
My day goes by quicker because I’m thinking about Marlowe. The drive to Spyglass Stables feels like nothing, and when I park the truck, I have to keep myself from running toward the fire pit.
She’s got the blaze going pretty strong, even though her clients have left. As I get closer, I notice that she’s got the stuff for s’mores all ready. There’s a Bluetooth speaker sitting on one of the log benches, playing old songs from the fifties and sixties.
“Just you and me?” I glance around for the two women I met earlier in the day.
“I sent Tess and Ashala to the city for the weekend. It’s safer for them.”
“Are they together? Seemed like it this morning.”
“Yeah. It’s new.”
“Cool.” I take a seat on the same log where she’s sitting. “How’d your day go?”
“With the trail rides, the council, or my emotions?”
I shrug. “Any of it.”
“That coffee you brewed me—it was different from anything I’ve had, but it did the trick.” Her boots shift against the sandy ground, like she’s struggling with the next words. “Better than Lou’s.”
“It’s not my goal to be better than him. Or replace him.”
“I know that. But I’m working my way toward being okay with the change.” She gives me a small smile, eyes glowing with the reflected light from the campfire.
I scoot closer to her, until our shoulders press together. I feel like a kid with his first crush. Everything is uncertain, but everything is also possible.
“I called one of the council members this morning, not long after you left,” Marlowe says.
“She said she’d talk to the witches and have the wards reinforced to exclude kelpies during the festival weekend.
And since this is Thursday night, that reinforcement will already be in effect.
She seemed to understand that I’m not responsible for my sister’s actions, which is good news.
And since you didn’t tell them I bit you, I don’t think they’re planning to evict me anytime soon.
They’ll probably do a more thorough investigation after the festival, and if Valeria keeps hanging around, they may take additional steps to deal with her. ”
“What kind of steps?”
Marlowe winces. “It really depends on how aggressive she is, and whether she kills anyone near the border of Crescent Cove. But at least I’ve done my part to ensure that tourists are protected from her while they’re in town.
The flip side is that I won’t be able to set foot within the town limits either, at least not until the festival is over. ”
“About that.” I reach into my pocket, pull out a braided bracelet, and dangle it in front of her.
Marlowe looks at me quizzically. “What’s that?”
“An exception.”
“Rick. Explain.”
“I know a couple witches, too. I visited one this afternoon, during our slow time, and he enchanted this for me.”
She takes the bracelet, turning it over, inspecting it.
“This witch that I know, Jareth—he used to make these bracelets for a werewolf family who were trying to protect themselves from a vengeful shaman,” I continue.
“The person wearing the bracelet becomes temporarily immune to all magical effects, including wards, curses, that kind of thing. It still allows for shifting, and it will change shape along with you. It will only hold the charm for five days, but you’ll be able to come and go in Crescent Cove as much as you like this weekend. ”
She stares at me, stunned. “You got this for me?”
“Yeah.”
“It must have been expensive. Especially with a charm that strong.”
No kidding. It made quite the dent in my inheritance. But somehow, I know Lou would have approved.
“It took some convincing to get Jareth to do the charm without going through the council for approval first,” I confess. “But he owed Lou a favor, and I made him an offer he couldn’t refuse.”
“Are you serious?”
I shrug. “The festival thing seemed important to you.”
“Rick…” Her eyes sparkle with tears.
“Hey, now, this is supposed to make you happy.”
“I am happy. This is the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me.” She takes the woven bracelet and slips it on, tightening it by pulling the string with her teeth.
“I wish the bracelet could have been nicer.” I rub my palms against my jeans. “Short notice, so I had to go with what Jareth had available.”
“It’s perfect. Now I’ll be able to enjoy the festival, listen to the music—and order coffee.” She gives me a saucy smirk. “That was your real motivation, wasn’t it? Luring me back to the Toast & Tide?”
“Hey, anything to get the customers in the door. I’m a man of business.”
“Then maybe we should get down to the business of toasting these marshmallows.”
When the marshmallows are crispy, bubbly brown on the outside, she teaches me her method of assembling what she calls a Mega S’more, complete with a layer of peanut butter, a layer of chocolate fudge, and a dash of sprinkles.
The s’mores make everything sticky, and being a restaurant owner, I feel weird if I go too long with crud on my hands, so after a while I stand up and say, “I’m gonna wash up if that’s okay.”
“Give me a second and I’ll come with you. The horses are secure for the night, so there’s nothing else to do here except put out the fire.”
Since the fire pit is a rustic one, a DIY job constructed of rocks, there’s no snuffer lid. After pouring water over the fire and stirring the ashes to make sure it’s out, Marlowe surveys her property anxiously, her eyes sweeping over the darkened fields, the barns, and the driveway.
“Do you think your sister will show up here tonight?” I ask.
“She might. If she does, she’ll come to the house. She won’t miss the chance to threaten me again before she starts causing actual trouble.”
“So the horses are safe.”
“Yes. Horses are off limits to our kind, remember. We don’t harm them. You, on the other hand… You’re running a risk by staying here, with me. You sure you want to stick around?”
“Hell yeah.”
The night air is cool, and a salt-scented breeze flows in from the sea. As we walk toward the house, I spot lightning bugs winking farther away, near a stand of bushes. One of the horses whinnies in the stable. Marlowe glances in that direction but doesn’t seem worried.
“Can you understand them?” I ask.
“Yes, but it’s not a language like humans have.”
“Still. Must be useful to have those extra equine instincts.”
“It is.”
“I noticed you don’t have any dogs or cats around here. Seems like the kind of place that would have other animals, especially since you take in traumatized horses.”
A chagrined expression overtakes Marlowe’s face. “I can’t risk having other animals around. I might eat them. It has happened before.”
“Oh. Shit.”
“Yup.”
I stride ahead a few paces to open the back door for her. She leads the way into the kitchen but gestures for me to use the sink first. I soap up my hands, rinse them under the warm water, then grab a towel from the handle of the oven. It’s a flowery one. Smells like cinnamon.
When Marlowe finishes washing her hands, I pretend to pass her the towel. She grabs it, but I maintain my grip and pull, tugging her closer. She breaks into a huge smile.
“Stop smiling,” I murmur. “I want to kiss you.”
“Can’t help it. I’m happy. Although I probably shouldn’t be. My sister is going to make my life hell tomorrow.”
“What do you think she’ll do?”
Marlowe shrugs. “I’m not sure. We haven’t been in contact for a long time. But if the fight we had the other night is any indication, she’s gotten more violent, not less.”
I toss the towel aside and take her waist in my hands. “Any chance you could push those worries to the back of your mind for a while? If not, I get it.”
“Hmm.” She taps her lips with a fingertip. “I might need some help with those worries. A distraction, perhaps.”
A dick-straction, says the part of my brain that’s still a teenage boy. I smother a laugh.
“What?” Marlowe asks.
“Nothing, just a dumb joke.”
“Tell me.”
“It’s so stupid—”
“Tell me.”
“I was thinking…” I take a deep breath. “Distraction… dickstraction.”
Her eyebrows lift. “You’re right. It’s the dumbest joke that ever existed.”
“Hey, you wanted to know.”
She slides her hand down my front and cups my inseam. “God, you’re hard.”
“Marlowe,” I say heavily. It’s a plea and a warning.
“Come on, big guy.” She grabs my belt buckle and tows me with her toward the living room. “Sit.” She shoves against my chest, pushing me onto one of the couches. Then she kneels in front of the couch, between my legs. “Open your pants.”
I’ve never undone a belt, a button, and a zipper so fast. She pries the opening of my jeans wider and eases my length through the slit of my boxers. Her perfect nose and plump lips are so close to my dick that I almost groan.
She sniffs delicately. “You showered before you came out here. I appreciate that.”
“Well, I figured… best practices and all,” I mutter.
“You get dumber when you’re aroused.” She smirks up at me. “It’s cute.” She licks me quickly, like she’s taking the first taste of a popsicle, and my whole body jerks at the slippery stroke.
“God.” I grab the couch cushions with both hands.
Her gaze travels to the corded muscles of my forearms and lingers there admiringly. “You’re strong. I love that.”
I know she’s stronger than me. She doesn’t show it off, but I can see it in the way she moves. Supernatural strength. Horse power. I almost chuckle, but she licks me again, and the flare of pleasure turns my brain as gooey as a roasted marshmallow.
“A powerful man, and yet you’re so needy,” she murmurs. “Everything else is blurred out, and all you’re conscious of is the craving. That’s what it’s like for me in kelpie form, but multiply it by a thousand.”
“Shit.” I moan. “I can’t imagine enduring that. How do you stop yourself?”
“It’s so—” Lick. “Fucking.” Lick. “Hard.” And then she slides me wholly into her mouth.