Page 41 of Witchy Chick

“That’s your question? She already said why. I’m stressed out. My life is crumbling to dust, and I have only myself to blame. When you build your life on lies, it can never last.”

“Stress gives you indigestion? You probably shouldn’t drink. It’s bad for stomachs. I’ll probably throw up at some point.” I looked down because his hand was still wrapped around my shoulder, and it didn’t seem necessary unless he was trying to keep me from sliding off the bench and under the table. “Is your hand stuck?”

“You’re my wife,” he said, voice hard, cold, almost as cold as the crazy lady coming back at us with a fist full of rage energy. She was so sloppy.

“I think I would’ve remembered marrying you,” I said as I tried to puzzle through this situation. She was going to throw that magic ball at me, and when she did, it would hit the shield he had around us, anchored to the connection point at my shoulder. The energy would ricochet like she had and cause more destruction, maybe hurt someone else in the bar.

What could I possibly do? I wasn’t in a graveyard to raise weird skeletons or something. But there were dead creatures here. There. Two cold, one rotting, all three of them touched with death.

“Take her out,” I said to the three monsters.

As one, in a blink, the creatures rushed the woman and took her down before she could cast her magic.

“Outside,” I murmured, and they carried her out of the bar and into the street.

I smiled blearily at the man across from me. “They’ll kick us out if there’s too much damage. You know they’d blame us even though we didn’t really do anything.”

He stared at me with eyes like lightning. “Did you just have two vampires and a zombie take down a witch for you?”

I blinked at him. “Vampires? Those aren’t real. They were just touched with death.”

He nodded slowly. “I’m your husband.”

“Nope. I wouldn’t ever marry someone with face tattoos. They are so creepy. And tacky. And scream weirdo who snuggles dead animals.”

“I think it’s time to take you home.”

I patted his face. I was aiming for his shoulder or something but his face was in the way. “No, no, no, I can call a driver. You can’t take me because you’re drunk.”

“I used a magic spell to burn off all the alcohol as I drank it. I’m perfectly sober,” he said, and honestly, he looked perfectly sober.

“Why would you do that? Didn’t you want to get drunk with me?”

“I wanted to be with you when you got drunk. You are adorable. No wonder Ray of Sunshine decided to adopt you instead of murder you. And you kissed him.” He tsked.

I covered up his mouth because I didn’t like those words. “Sh. It’s my greatest shame. You can’t just go around telling the whole world that I’m a sexual predator.”

“Your hands are on my cheek, not my mouth,” he said, and he was right. When I squinted at him, his mouth was absolutely empty, free to talk about whatever he wanted. Why did he want to talk about me kissing Ray?

Probably because he was jealous. He wanted to kiss Ray. No. Maybe. Why was everything so fuzzy? The point is, his mouth was there, to the right of my hands, parted like he was going to say something absolutely terrible. I had to stop him. But the death-touched were still outside the bar. And my hands were pressed to his cheek, so they were clearly out of commission.

I leaned across the table and pressed my lips to his, sealing his words inside his head where they wouldn’t hurt me.

He tasted like blackberries and honeysuckle. So sweet. With a spark of lightning that made me shiver and lean closer. He tasted so, so good. I kissed him deeper, wanting more of him.

His hand slid against my cheek and pried me off him. He frowned at me while I blinked at him.

“What are you doing?” he demanded.

It felt like a trick question. “You couldn’t tell that it was a kiss? I need to hire someone to give me lessons. It doesn’t look that hard from the outside.”

“Why did you kiss me?” he demanded, so impatient.

I squinted at him. He was so blurry and beautiful, shining, like a mountain. “You would never fit inside my husband,” I said then my face vroomed towards the table. It landed on his hand instead of the pizza. Too bad. Pizza was so delicious. I licked his hand. Mm. Like lightning and sarsaparilla.

He picked me up, and the world tilted. “You are so drunk.”

“You are so tall.”