Chapter 5
Felix squirmed in his seat, all too aware of Liam’s heated gaze running over him. He cursed himself, feeling his cheeks—and other parts of him—warm in response. It was the wine. It had nothing to do with the incredibly sexy were at the other end of the couch. Nope. Wasn’t him at all.
Keep telling yourself that, Felix.
He took another sip, hoping to prove the point and that whatever Gorman had brought was drinkable. With Aggie guzzling glasses, that single bottle of Chablis was tapped, and if this was any indication of how the night was going to go, he was screwed.
But Chase did have that bottle of whiskey…
“Plenty of people might want the position,” Felix said, reviving Kelsey’s earlier statement, “but not for what we can afford. The last few months Chambers was in office, we were working under a deficit, and believe me when I say, that hasn’t improved.
We’ve had to make some serious cuts.” And Felix felt like a dick every time he’d signed off on one, especially when it had cut the town’s aftercare program, two weeks into the school year.
The hate mail he’d gotten from irate parents had been brutal.
“Yes, but those cuts shouldn’t be anything that impacts public safety. The streetlights outside should be on, regardless,” Gorman muttered around his mouthful of stinky cheese.
“Are you going to have to furlough people?” Chase asked, sitting in one of the overstuffed chairs with his plate of appetizers, then pulled Jena onto his knee.
Felix felt himself pale. He hadn’t even considered that. It made sense on paper, but right before the holidays?
Gorman snorted. “You do that, and they’ll burn you at the stake.”
The witches in the room glared at him.
“What, too soon?” he asked with another snort. “You ask me, you’re better off auctioning all the frippery Chambers accumulated—starting with that suped-up golf cart of his.”
As much as Felix hated to agree with Gorman, he had a point. The six-seater ATV with all-leather interior and heated steering wheel was beyond extravagant. They’d also had to lease garage space to keep the damned thing from the elements.
“If you get me a list with pics, I can post stuff for you,” Jena offered. “Between the reclamation work Caldwell and Sons has been doing and the Witchery, I’ve been putting all kinds of things up for sale. You’d be surprised how much some stuff goes for.”
“Yeah?” Felix asked, clutching to that slim thread of hope. “How much do you think we can get for granite curbing?”
Chase perked up. “Depends on the grade and how many linear feet you’ve got lying around.
I’m actually in the market for something like that to mitigate the runoff that keeps washing out the manor’s driveway.
I had it graded before we dragged the Yule log up there, but after that last storm, it’s already a mess. ”
And what a miserable hike that was going to be.
Felix tapped his teeth. That wasn’t exactly a short distance.
The house above the node outside of town had to be a good half mile from the road.
“I have absolutely no idea how much there is, aside from it taking up a third of town hall’s parking lot, but you’re welcome to come take a look at the pile.
” There was also more of it in a warehouse waiting to be delivered, pending a final payment that the town was never going to make.
Chase nodded. “I’ll stop by tomorrow. I was planning on putting in a bid this week. The fact that I wouldn’t have to wait for delivery is a definite selling point. That stuff takes like twelve weeks to come in, and I want to hit the ground running come spring.”
“What you want and what you’re gonna get are going to be two very different things,” Aggie said breezily as she stood and pointed at Liam. “But what I want is lasagna. You, tall, dark and angsty, come help me plate up slices.”
“What?” Jena stared at the older witch as Liam scrambled to his feet. “Tell me you didn’t have a vision.”
“Okay. I didn’t have a vision.” Aggie shrugged, making her way across the room.
“Aggie…”
“Agree to name your firstborn after me, and then we’ll talk,” she said, quirking her brow as she disappeared into the kitchen.
“Goddamn it,” Jena seethed. “Who names a baby Agatha!?”
Felix finished his second glass of wine, snickering. “I’m going to go out on a limb and say you. It’s only a matter of time before you cave. Give in now and save yourself some misery.”
Jena glared at him. “How much of that wine have you had to drink?”
“Not nearly enough, and it’s already gone. What did you bring?” Felix asked Gorman, eyeing the syrupy liquid in his glass.
“Blackberry Schewitz,” he said, smacking his lips.
Oh God. Nope. Not drunk enough for that—yet. “I think I’ll switch to whiskey,” Felix said as he stood with his empty glass and only listing slightly. He was also going to grab a slab of lasagna while he was at it. He needed carbs to bolster this buzz.
Liam was hefting a massive pan out of the oven, his stupid biceps bulging as he lifted it onto the stove.
Who looked that good in a t-shirt and hoodie?
It wasn’t fair. The man was wearing cheap, big box store jeans and ratty sneakers for God’s sake—and he was still more appetizing than what Aggie was plating up.
Which looked just shy of divine.
“Felix! Stop standing there drooling and finish shredding this cheese for me,” she snapped, pointing at a wicked little contraption of jagged metal.
Drooling? He was not—okay, maybe he was. He ran a hand over his mouth. Whatever, he had a weakness for lasagna and the stupidly buff men that hefted it around, but honestly, who didn’t? “As much as I would love to help you, I enjoy having skin on my knuckles more.”
“I should probably do that.” Liam chuckled, taking the wedge from her. “Felix isn’t kitchen compatible and handing him a box grater is just asking for trouble.”
“Well, figure it out. I forgot the damned fancy napkins,” Aggie muttered, heading out of the kitchen.
“Now that’s not fair,” Felix chided Liam. “I have nothing against kitchens, aside from the whole culinary aspect. And I’ll have you know, I’m quite adroit with a corkscrew.”
“Good to know,” he said, a sexy little smile crossing his lips.
Damn him. Felix huffed and put his empty glass on the counter, scooching behind the were. His front accidentally-on-purpose brushed across Liam’s overly impressive backside, and he froze with a pained noise.
Felix swallowed one of his own, along with a tipsy smirk. Okay, so maybe his judgement was a teensy bit impaired copping a feel like that, but it served Liam right for eye-fucking him earlier. “Cut yourself?”
Liam shook his head, his cherry cola waves hiding his expression as he bent over his task.
And my, but wasn’t that quickly becoming an impressive mound—Damn it, Felix. The cheese. Absolutely not what was in Liam’s pants—or his own.
Okay, so maybe that, too. Felix cocked a brow and sauntered to the Hoosier cabinet—his smugness popped like a bubble.
Great. Chase had put the whiskey on the top shelf and set it back.
Was there anything less sexy than having to find a footstool?
Felix cursed his genetics and blew out his cheeks.
Whatever. He raised himself up onto his tiptoes, his fingertips just brushing the bottle’s label—
“Let me help.” The warm weight of Liam’s pecs pressed against Felix’s shoulder blades, their outstretched arms brushing as Liam grabbed the bottle for him.
Felix snatched it and held it to his chest, focusing on not hyperventilating. He closed his eyes, the room suddenly very, very hot and his Adam’s apple bobbing. Mayday, Mayday! “T-thank you.”
Liam grazed his hand down the outside of Felix’s tricep and cupped his hip. His head dipped and warm breath teased against the shell of Felix’s ear. “You’re welcome. You need help with the glasses?”
Don’t even think about turning your head, Felix!
Shit. Too late. His throat bobbed again. “Um. No?”
Liam ignored him, and Felix bit his lip at the bulge rubbing against the small of his back as Liam lifted his arm and leaned forward again.
Felix’s pants were abruptly way too tight. Snap out of it, stupid! Liam. This was Liam. The man who broke your heart into a thousand pieces and smiled while he did it.
But the feel of him—the smell. A warm musk had surrounded Felix, heady and promising things he really shouldn’t be thinking about. He choked back a whimper and snatched the glass from Liam’s hand. “Great. Yeah, I got it, thanks,” he said, spinning away.
Liam took a step back, his pupils blown. He looked away with a sheepish nod and reached down to adjust himself.
Felix went rock hard.
“Anytime…ah, you think Chase would mind if I had a glass of that?” Liam asked, motioning to the bottle Felix was still hugging.
“Nope, have at it. Pour me one while you’re at it, would you?
I’ll get ice.” He slammed what he was holding onto the counter and winced.
Jesus fucking Christ. That man was going to be the end of him.
Felix ripped open the freezer door and stood just shy of crawling in.
The blast of cold on his heated cheeks slowly brought him back to Earth.
He grabbed the ice tray and set it on the counter, not meeting Liam’s eye.
“Got ’em,” Aggie said, coming back into the kitchen and flipping a stack of linen napkins onto the counter,” she sniffed and pinched her nose, glaring at them before throwing cheese over two of the slabs of lasagna and hefting up the servings.
“Finish plating the rest of those up for me, and stop canoodling in my kitchen.”
Liam poured Felix’s drink and then himself a quick shot. He downed it, his face on fire, desperately trying to tamp down his mating pheromones. He hadn’t meant to go there with Felix—at least not until he apologized and explained things—but goddamn him for flirting like that.
Jesus, the way he fit against him, that tiny whimper he’d tried to hide—