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She raised a brow at this. “We are clearly no longer discussing the booth.”

It always amused him that she caught on to his double meaning. Surely that could only mean that Alana understood those double meanings for what they were: a warning.

Sometimes, Cohen feared he was too threatening with the witch, but what was he supposed to do? Ignore the power she could have over his town? His home? The people he chose to serve and protect? No.

Him?

Fuck. That. Noise.

Cohen couldn’t let this suspicion of her go. Ever.

What lay beyond it was probably too dangerous anyway. This was safer.

“We can discuss the booth until we’re blue in the face if that will make you happy, Miss Wixx, but I should tell you I vehemently oppose your seat on the council.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “Noted.”

“That’s it?” He was shocked she wasn’t rising to his bait with more gusto. It almost made him ache to see no anger ... no passion ... in those green eyes of hers. “You’re not going to shout down the roof for the way I am behaving?”

“Nope.”

His frown deepened. “What is happening? Did you not get enough witch’s brew this morning?”

She took a deep breath, her eyes cutting toward Lila, who was staring down at her best friend. Cohen thought he immediately understood what was going on, and Alana confirmed his belief a moment later.

“Lila wants me to play nice with you because you’re gonna be her brother-in-law, but as you know, I don’t like you, Mr. Pierce.”

“Sheriff Pierce,” he insisted.

“I do not like you, but my best friend is marrying your brother for whatever reason. We are going to be in each other’s lives for a very long time, and I don’t want to be a bad example for my nieces and nephews.”

Huh. He did not like where this was heading. At all. Every single fiber of his being was telling him to run for the hills, to run in the opposite direction with as much speed as he could.

Alana Wixx was bad news.

But if he had to be nice to her? If he saw her smile?

How could he hold on to his hatred of her if she was sweet and kind? He wouldn’t be able to. He was a hard man but hardly a monster.

“What is this?” The accusatory tone of his voice was plain.

“I think we need to agree to certain terms,” Alana responded, straightening her back.

“Terms?” he repeated as if the word were new to him. “What kind of terms?”

“When we are out in public, we will be civil to each other. You can feel free to continue to hate me in your heart, but be civil.”

“You keep saying that word ... civil.”

“Do you not know what it means?” she immediately flinched. “Sorry. Old habits die hard. Yes, civility will be difficult, but we can do it for Lila and your brother.”

“Which of the two asked you for this?”

“Does it matter?” she asked. “They want a good life, a peaceful life. I am willing to do my part for them. Are you?”

Cohen pondered this for a moment. Did he like Alana Wixx? No. Did hewantto like her? That was a big fatno. It was much easier to keep her at arm's length. Cohen didn’t know what to do with the woman’s eyes and hair, her heart-shaped lips, or those fucking dresses she had to wear all the time.

Simply put: Alana Wixx drove him nuts. There would be no end in sight, either, because the witch was right. Their lives would soon be much more interwoven once Lila and Mason went through with their wedding.