Page 5

Chapter

Five

brIDGETTE

I sat with my hands nervously twisting in my lap as I glanced around the restaurant. It was a place that everyone in Gainsburg had been to at least a time or two in their life. While the locally owned steakhouse wasn’t as popular as some of the larger chain restaurants in nearby towns, it was a favorite to celebrate milestones, including birthdays and anniversaries. It made me nervous as hell, knowing that we were being watched curiously.

Honestly, it was probably just my imagination. The town was small, but it wasn’t that small. I was letting my nerves run away with me. In a conscious effort to pull my own head out of my ass, I gave my non-date a tight smile and reached for the glass of ice water in front of my linen roll of silverware.

“So,” I began after a tiny sip in an effort to not make a fool of myself by choking on an ice cube or—Goddess forbid—spilling the whole glass down my front. “What kind of questions did you need help with?”

The slight smirk that couldn’t be hidden behind his own glass of water had my back locking into place, my chin rising, and my eyes narrowing dangerously. He knew I was nervous, the fucker. Then, his gaze lifted, leaving my face, and I watched in silent fascination as the beautiful curve to his lips smoothed into an impassive, polite expression as the server made an appearance at his side. She bent over the table, placing our drinks down, along with a basket of rolls.

I thought her lean was a little excessive, but when I tried to glance slyly at Detective Storm to see if he had noticed the woman’s lovely assets, it was to see his eyes on me instead of the cleavage on display, that smirk a hint at the edges. When it dropped back into the polite glance at the waitress as she handed him a personal cup of honey butter for the rolls, I had to exercise all my self control to not visibly roll my eyes.

I’d read about those kinds of interactions in romance books but figured it was just for added drama. Women didn’t really flirt with handsome men while they were on dates with other women, right? But yet, there I sat on my non-date, even though she didn’t know that, and watched as the pretty brunette did all but place his napkin in his lap or write her name and number on his hand.

“I’m sorry, what?” I blinked as Logan held the small cup of butter toward me.

“Our server thought you might want some extra butter, babe.”

I darted a glance toward the woman, who I had been certain brought that butter specifically for Logan, just to see her scowling down at the cup. I thought about refusing out of spite but figured that would just make the whole situation even more awkward, and damn, did I really like butter on my rolls. So, hesitantly, I reached out for the butter, careful not to let our fingers brush even the tiniest bit.

I did my best to ignore the tiny flutter in my belly at hearing the man call me by a pet name. Never had I expected to hear an endearment directed at me by a man. Even though I tried to remind myself that he was merely putting on a show, it still did things to me. Things I would rather not think about with the man in question sitting directly across from me and looking way too smug for someone who didn’t even know me.

When his smirk grew into a smile, and a crease appeared on his left cheek, I felt that flip in my gut again and looked away quickly. I wasn’t going to let this man get under my skin. Maybe he was my mate, and perhaps he wouldn’t murder my heart, leaving it broken and bleeding at his feet, but I had my pride. And, yes, I was just as stubborn as my best friend had accused me of.

Before I could even reach for a roll, Logan was already sliding a small plate over to me with not one but two beautifully browned rolls sitting prettily on it.

“Thank you,” I said softly, the manners my mother had drilled into me winning out over the grumpiness I was desperately trying to hold onto as a shield.

Logan cleared his throat as he plucked another roll from the basket, tore a small piece from it, and dipped it in the extra butter cup. “What can you tell me about rituals?”

I paused before taking a bite of my honey butter slathered bread. “That’s a very vague question about a very broad subject. Could you be more specific?”

I watched as he chewed, then the way his throat shifted as he swallowed. I felt my cheeks warm at what I had never considered the intimate act of watching a man eat before and tore my eyes away to glance down at the menu, quickly deciding on a pasta dish.

“You are already aware I can’t go into specifics, but I’ll tell you what I can. Perhaps asking questions that you can confirm might be easier?” I glanced back at him to see him sitting there with one eyebrow raised in question. Damn, if that didn’t look hot, too. After my nod of acceptance, he continued. “Are all rituals performed within a pentacle?”

I thought about his question for a second before shaking my head. “The majority, I suppose. Some only involve the use of candles or herbs. Something simple, like imbuing a potion with magic wouldn’t need a pentacle. If someone were to want a stronger or more sure result from what they are attempting to do, then yes.”

He looked thoughtful as he held me with his smoky eyes. “What about moonlight or ensuring they are performing the ritual with the four corners?”

“Well, if the person who is doing the spell or ritual is serious about the results, or it is an advanced spell, then yes. The more advanced the spell, the more effort the witch has to put into it. Candles, herbs, alignment with the corners, it all connects you to the Goddess and the energy of the Earth.”

“Have you ever used all these elements to perform a ritual?”

I grinned and tilted my head, studying the detective. “Why, sir, am I a suspect?”

His returning grin had the same effect on me as it had the first time I saw it. “Where were you four nights ago?”

I couldn’t help the small burst of laughter. “Four nights ago, I was doing exactly the same thing as every night of my life. I read a book while lying in bed, then was asleep by ten o’clock. I’m a pretty boring creature of habit, I’m afraid.”

“No man to keep you company?”

I shook my head, looking back at my half eaten roll, embarrassed for some reason I couldn’t fathom. “No.”

“Never?” he pushed, making me look up at him from under my lashes. His expression was serious, with an intensity that took me by surprise. I could sense he was curious about me before, even highly attracted, but until that moment, I hadn’t realized how much. He seemed exceptionally interested in whatever answer I would give him.

The moment was interrupted by the waitress returning with our drinks. “Are you ready to order, sir?” Again, her entire focus was on Logan, and again, I studied him as inconspicuously as possible to see if he would finally give in to her flirting.

“Are you ready, Bridgette?”

The pleasure of having him focus on me instead warmed my insides. I looked up at the server with a grin. “I’ll have the shrimp pasta, please.”

The waitress gave a sharp nod. “And you, sir?”

“I’ll have the same.”

We both handed over our menus, Logan giving a slight nod of thanks without taking his eyes off me. I cleared my throat after the woman left again.

“What else can I help you with? About your case?”

Taking the hint, Logan didn’t question me further about my personal life. Instead, he asked something I hadn’t expected.

“Is there a spell that would hold someone immobile?”

I stared at him for a moment. Questions began filling my head, questions I knew I couldn’t ask and that he couldn’t answer without telling me details. “Certainly. However, it is something that witches aren’t likely to do since it takes away someone’s free will. ‘Harm none’ is an aspect of our craft that we take very seriously.”

“What about moving a heavy object?”

“Again, certainly. That is a spell most witches learn at a young age, along with lighting a candle without a match or calling on the other elements. Few witches are proficient in all elements, but most can do the most basic spells with fire or water. Some are more in tune with the Earth, and that gives them a greater affinity with plants.”

“A strong witch, or a witch with strong magic, can do these things easily?”

“Yes, someone with a greater gift of magic than, say, your average witch could easily hold someone in place or even move the person while keeping them immobile.”

“How many witches in the area would you say have that kind of power?”

I sat back in my chair and wiped my fingers on my cloth napkin. “In this area? Very few, I would say. There are several witches in town, of course, but only a few come to mind.”

“You being one of them?” Instead of sounding accusatory, he simply looked… proud? It was interesting that he would look that way toward a woman he just met.

“Actually, yes.” I shrugged. “Myself, my grandmother, a couple of others. But as I said, I was in bed four nights ago. My grandmother is on a cruise somewhere in the Bahamas... I think. And the other two women in town? They are sweet and kind natured. I couldn’t picture either one of them committing something as heinous as murder.”

While we took each other in, our plates were set in front of us, startling me.

“Enjoy. If there is anything else I can do for you, let me know.” Then, the waitress was gone, leaving us alone in our bubble again. The food smelled incredible, making my mouth water, and I immediately picked up my fork, ready to dive into the decadent dish. Neither one of us spoke for several long minutes as we began eating. For a brief moment I was concerned about looking greedy or unladylike but I dismissed the thought quickly. I was hungry, and the dish looked divine. If the man couldn’t handle a woman with an appetite, then that was a him problem.

“So,” I said between bites, wanting to break up some of the silence. “How long have you been a homicide detective?”

He wiped his mouth with his napkin and took a drink from his glass. “After I graduated from college, I went straight into the police academy. I had to work as a patrol officer for a while before I earned enough experience to become a detective. I also had to wait for a spot to open it. It’s a small town. Unfortunately, you usually have to wait for someone to retire.”

“Do you enjoy it?” I could admit I was fascinated. And it wasn’t only just listening to his deep voice that made my belly feel warm. I was finding I enjoyed learning about him.

Logan gave me a long stare with an expression that was difficult to read. “It’s always been my dream. I never wanted to do or explore anything else,” he paused and trailed his eyes over my face, “until now.”

I swallowed hard at his intense stare and darted my eyes back down to my plate. Needing to break the tension that suddenly formed between us, I picked up my glass of water and took a sip. “This sure is delicious.” Then, I rolled my eyes at myself.

I didn’t bother looking up, but I could hear the humor in his tone when he replied, “I’m sure it is.” I had the distinct impression he wasn’t speaking of the water or the pasta dish. I wasn’t going to look up to see if I was right, though.

Once a good three-quarters of my plate was consumed, I set down my fork. I was stuffed to near explosion, but it just tasted too good to stop. I took a look around the restaurant. I could only see a few other tables with the way the layout was set up, but I loved people watching. When I glanced toward the entrance, two women caught my eye. One had a short blonde bob, while the other had pretty chestnut colored hair. It wasn’t their appearance that kept me riveted, though. It was the way the brunette looked stricken, with her gaze fixed on Logan, and the other woman rubbing her shoulder as if to offer comfort.

As I took them in, I noticed the brunette placed a hand over her abdomen as if she were going to be sick. It took me a moment to realize that the blonde was glaring daggers at me. The sight took me by surprise, and a feeling of dread washed over me. Without looking at Detective Storm, I pushed back my chair, placed the cloth napkin on the table, and mumbled something along the lines of needing to use the restroom. Without waiting for a response, I turned on my heel and walked quickly to the ladies’ room.

After pushing open the door, I went straight to the sink and turned on the cold water as my mind whirled. Logan had asked me if I was seeing anyone, but was he? Who was the brunette to him?

As I contemplated the whole situation, the door squeaked as it was pushed open behind me. I ignored the woman who entered, not looking up as I washed my hands, letting the cold water run over my wrists, letting it help me cool down.

“You have some nerve.”

The harsh tone said from directly behind me had me jerking my head up to see the blonde from the entrance giving me a deadly glare through her reflection in the mirror. I calmly turned the water off and shook the excess water off my hands before stepping over to the towel dispenser.

“What? No excuses from the homewrecker?”

I took a deep breath, counted to three, and then let it out slowly before lifting my chin higher. I turned around to face the woman who had a good five inches of height over my short self. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Please excuse me.”

I tried to step around the woman, but she smoothly sidestepped, blocking my only way out of the situation. “Oh, no, sweetheart,” she sneered derisively. “You aren’t getting away with it that easily. How long have you been seeing Logan Storm?”

I tilted my head as I put on an air of calm serenity, all while my heart thudded out a rapid tempo inside my chest. “I just met the detective today. He asked me for help with a case he was working on. Don’t worry, he means nothing to me, and I won’t be seeing him after this evening.”

Her scoff was impressive as she placed her hands on her generous hips. “You expect me to believe that?”

I simply shook my head. “I couldn’t care less what you believe. Please step aside so I can leave. I apologize for any upset seeing me with the detective caused your friend. She truly has nothing to be concerned about.”

After a prolonged stare down, the woman finally huffed. “Logan and Kristy have been together for years. I suggest staying away from married men in the future.”

I simply inclined my head as something inside my chest fractured. After another few seconds, the blonde finally stepped aside. I strode from the bathroom with my head held high, and as soon as I made it to the table, I took my purse from where it had been hanging on the back of my chair. I pretended to ignore the way Logan’s smile fell into a frown as he watched. I slipped the strap over my shoulder, and his straight, dark eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“I’m sorry. Something has come up, and I need to leave. Thank you for the lovely dinner, Detective Storm. Good luck with your case.”

Without waiting around to see his reaction to my abrupt departure from our non-date, I turned and made my way to the front door. My mother would have been proud of the way I held my shoulders back and my spine straight. I didn’t bother looking left or right, not wanting to see if either of the two women were watching the fallout from their little ambush in the restroom.

As soon as I made it home, I went straight to the freezer. I took my ice cream, spoon, and phone into the small bedroom and set them on the nightstand before stripping out of my clothes. I was so thankful I hadn’t bothered to change out of my work clothes. If I’d dressed up for the jerk, I might have actually cried.

After crawling into bed, I pulled the lid off the rocky road ice cream and dug in, taking the first bite to calm my nerves. Sighing, I finally picked up my phone and brought up Shayla’s number before hitting the dial button. It was time to spill my woes to the sister of my heart.