Page 30 of The Blood Witch
He answers with a gorgeous wide smile. “Hey, fancy meeting you here,” he teases, his nostrils flaring slightly as though he’s scenting my reaction to his presence.
“Is Hoot okay? I just talked to Riggs this morning, he said everything was fine?” I start, worry pumping through me as I try to figure out why he’s here.
“He’s fine,” Saxon hurries to reassure me. “Riggs said you sounded down when he spoke to you, that you could probably use a break. So I volunteered to come give you one,” he explains, rubbing at the back of his neck sheepishly.
“Oh,” I chirp, taken aback.
“I know that’s presumptuous as hell, but I hope that’s okay,” he asks, searching my face while simultaneously smelling the air.
“Yeah, that’s fine. That’s...really nice of you actually,” I assure him, gesturing to the chair next to me. “Have a seat,” I encourage, moving a small stack of napkins to make room for him.
“Are you sure?” he questions hesitantly. “You look like you’re having a pretty intense exchange with your coffee.” His eyes light up, and I laugh at the teasing lilt in his tone.
“Only if you promise to be better conversation than this cup has been,” I playfully counter, and Saxon pulls out the chair and sits his massive body down. I look over at my guards, expecting them to stop what’s happening, but oddly, they don’t.
“Sounds like stiff competition, but I’m down for a challenge,” he jokes, his golden eyes taking me in.
Heat sinks into my cheeks, and I do my own discreet perusal. He looks just as good with a shirt on as he did that day on the stump with his shirt off. His hair is down and has that perfect man-wave to it that women spend hours achieving with tools, and men get from simply letting their hair air dry. His skin is sun-kissed, the golden tone complimenting his golden eyes, and...shit,am I drooling?
Saxon sets his to-go cup of coffee on the table, and I offer him a warm smile, inwardly panicking because I have no idea what to say, or ask, or do. I try to cover my awkwardness with a large sip of java, and then I take another because I’ve still got nothing.
“Riggs said you were up here working on finding Elon Kendrick. How’s that going?” he asks casually before taking his own sip of coffee, and I realize that Saxon might be nervous too.
“Um, I mean, it’snotgoing really. We still don’t know where he is or what happened. Time is ticking, and things are tense,” I blurt, thoughts of what happened with Rogan’s mother the day before coming to mind.
“I’m sorry to hear that, I’ll check in with the Major and see if there’s anything the pack can do to help,” he offers, his eyes serious and filled with concern.
“Have you been up here before?” I question, not expecting him to be so familiar with the powers that be in the Order. I add in my guards’ non-reaction to his presence to the equation and—surprise, surprise—feel like I’m missing something.
“I have actually. I’m here pretty often. I called the Major on my way up and told her I’d be here to see you, it was all cleared. I’m a liaison for the pack business, so I’ve worked with the Order and some of the other witch corporations for quite some time.”
I raise an impressed brow. “Wow, that’s...cool, how’d you get into that?”
Saxon smiles and relaxes slightly. “I more or less fell into it pretty naturally. I’ve always been interested in the pack’s dealings. I like getting out and meeting different kinds of people and figuring out how to box out the competition,” he explains on a chuckle.
“Competition? I thought what Riggs did was one of a kind?”
“In the beginning maybe, but with time, competitors popped up. We’re still the best…”
“Naturally,” I playfully agree, and he chuckles.
“Are you recovered from your accident?” he asks, giving me a quick once over.
“Yeah, it wasn’t anything major,” I lie dismissively. “I didn’t get a chance to say thank you for dropping off the bones,” I add, taking another sip of my coffee.
“As you can see, I’ll use any excuse to get to know you better,” he tells me, keen interest shining in his eyes.
Caterpillars wriggle in my stomach, creating an airy, slightly weird sensation. It’s not full-blown butterflies wreaking havoc on my insides, not like I’ve felt with… I shut that line of thinking down. Rogan Kendrick is a non-factor, I tell myself. Besides, butterflies are cute in theory, but when you look closely, they’re really just creepy looking bugs.
I direct my thoughts back to the attractive lycan sitting kitty-corner from me. The one who’s a teachably good kisser and has made an effort not once, but twice now to get to know me. Maybe this is what I need. A healthy distraction from all the chaos I’ve been submerged in since the day the bones found me. It’s been a while since my inner fiend was satiated, which is probably why I’m having trouble letting go of an asshole. But if I introduce her to a nice guy…
“So, Saxon, what do you enjoy doing aside from wrestling people half-naked on a tree stump?” I ask, a flirty smile flitting across my face. “I would also like to know how that even became a thing,” I add with a chuckle.
He laughs and leans back in his chair. “I had that one in the bag until you showed up,” he taunts alluringly, and I lean into his calm and captivating vibe. “Nora almost lost it for a minute until Riggs stepped in and declared the outcome.”
“Nora?” I ask, confused, my smile faltering slightly.
Saxon’s eyebrows drop with uncertainty, and his golden eyes study me in earnest. “Yeah, Nora, the prize,” he explains, his tone suggesting that this is information he thought I knew already.
