Page 21 of Season of the Witch (Toil and Trouble #3)

fourteen

She woke to heat.

Tia stretched her legs lazily, nestling her cheek against the pillow. It was warm and smooth under her, and she was so comfortable, it took her a few seconds to realize it was moving. Breathing.

Her eyes flew open. Muscled pecs greeted her—or muscled pec , since she was currently occupying the other one.

Her hand, dear sweet baby Goddess, her hand was on Henry’s abs, fingers spread to touch as much surface area as possible.

Her mind got a little sidetracked at the ribbed edges under her fingertips before she forced herself back to the point.

And the point was she was wrapped around Henry like a sloth on a branch.

She hardly dared breathe. It had been so long since she’d felt him against her like this, his arm looped around her waist in breathless intimacy. Her skin tingled every place they touched.

He was so warm. He’d always run hot, to the point where she’d used to complain about having a steam engine in bed with her. Then he’d tease her about liking it hot, wrestle her underneath him and prove how right he was.

But that was then. Way, way back then. And now she had to get off him before he woke up and things turned extremely awkward. As if it wasn’t already awkward that she felt all fizzy and faint. And that she throbbed. Everywhere .

Fuck.

One at a time, she lifted her fingers off his chiseled abs. Damn, he was cut. More than he’d been at twenty-one. Not that she should be thinking that. She hated him. Even if she’d made the choice last night to be less… her , that was temporary. Thinking about him like this was—

She squeaked as his arm tugged her closer. Close enough that her legs tangled with his and her shorts rode up dangerously high. He rolled just enough that their bodies bumped.

He was hard.

Lightning speared, melting her veins. His thumb tucked in the hollow of her waist and slipped down, hooking the material of her top so that skin met more skin.

Her toes curled as magic surged in her veins. She had to move. Away , she reminded herself sternly. Not closer.

With her breathing shallow, she braced her free hand on the mattress the other side of him and pushed up, intending to lean backward so his arm slid off her.

Except that was when the bastard chose to wake up.

His lids fluttered open to see her braced over him. His face lit with a hazy greeting before melting into confusion. Then realization dawned.

He swallowed. Hard. “Celestia.”

Her name managed to be a statement and a question in one.

For once she didn’t scold him. Instead, she wrapped the shredded coat of dignity around herself. “Could you let go of me?”

She watched his eyes go to where his arm was locked around her. A heady flush rose to his cheeks and he immediately pulled back. “Ah…sorry. I didn’t mean to, you know…try anything.”

Tia pushed off, sliding out the other side of the bed. She angled herself away, partly to shield her face but mostly so he wouldn’t see how hard her nipples were. “Whatever,” she said airily, heading for the bathroom. “But keep that shit for an audience, yeah?”

He stammered an agreement before she shut the door and promptly turned the shower on cold.

* * *

“Lady Tia,” boomed Siddeley’s voice right near her ear, startling her into dropping her iPad. It hit the couch cushions with a thump. “You’re not doing work, are you?”

She winced. In her defense, she’d needed to catch up on some of the latest developments; plus, she was still emailing Lionel about Henry’s potion antidote.

She’d already done some tests with her travel kit, brewing different antidotes in four test tubes and watching the test solution for any reaction.

Results had been disappointing—or they should’ve been to anyone with sense not to obsess over their ex.

Choosing avoidance over that fact, she’d given up and snuck off to this room to bury her discomfort in emails.

But she was meant to be playing, not working, so…

Sheepish, she angled her head to where Siddeley stood behind the couch. “Guilty. What’s my punishment?”

He laughed as he came around to sit on the chair opposite, placing two steaming mugs on the coffee table. Rudolph coasters appeared beneath the mugs as he set them down. The fire in the grate flickered merrily, casting light onto the Christmas decorations in the small room.

Situating himself, Siddeley gestured to the space beside her. “Where’s your partner?”

“Probably doing the same thing,” she confessed, attempting to uncurl her legs without being obvious. She wasn’t sure she was allowed to have her feet up on the sofa; it was probably a gajillion years old.

“Addicts to the office.”

“Blame our parents.” She said it with a smile and he replied in kind.

“At least you found each other,” he pointed out, then added, “Again. I hear from my mother there was a split for a few years. But I’m a fan of second chances, too.”

Bitterness bloomed on her tongue and she shifted her gaze down. She made a noncommittal noise.

“So, is it potion business or the bar you run with your friends in Chicago that has you sneaking away like a woman with a guilty secret?” he asked, picking up his mug and blowing on the steam.

Her skin prickled and she considered the balancing act she was about to play. “I thought you said no work,” she joked, taking one step onto the tightrope. “Now you’re encouraging me?”

His eyes were kind. “If that’s what’s important to you.”

Her mom’s voice in her ear demanded she go for it while he was asking, spit out all the facts and figures she’d brought along. Bend him to the business.

But.

She’d always had Knowings, impressions of people or places that would somehow be important.

They were subtle and she could go for months or years without one.

But as she considered how to answer, something inside her shivered like a plucked bow.

This warlock was somehow important to her future in some indefinable way.

His words repeated on a loop. What’s important to you.

She hesitated, then leaned forward to pick up the mug he’d brought her. The smell of hot cider wafted up her nose. “The company is important to me,” she admitted, rolling her tense shoulders, “and so is the bar. Mostly because both are run with family.”

“You consider your friends family?”

“I do.” Emma’s steady sass, Leah’s teasing optimism. “When we opened the bar, we each wanted a project, an escape.”

“I know the feeling well. Idle hands and all?”

“Something like that.” Idle mind , her own supplied.

She’d needed to keep busy. Stop obsessing over Henry and whether she’d made a mistake.

Then he’d never come after her so she’d known she hadn’t.

Stomach plummeting at the reminder, she took a bracing sip of her cider.

“But it’s become as much about friendship and fun as anything else. ”

“People like us,” Siddeley mused, “need to keep occupied. But good to slow down, eh? Appreciate life—appreciate that boy who watches you like the star on top of the tree.” He gave her a sly wink.

“Oh. Well, he…” Flustered, she slammed the brakes on her instinctive denial. Breathe. Play the role . “I make sure to appreciate him every chance I get.”

He chuckled and lifted his mug in a toast. “To second chances.”

She forced a smile. “To learning from your mistakes.”

* * *

It had been a good meeting, Tia figured, as she and Henry made their way to the dining room that night.

She wouldn’t say she and Siddeley were ready to inscribe their initials + BFF on a cauldron, but they’d chatted over their ciders easily enough.

She’d choked down business every time it tried to spew out, concentrating instead on her friends, the holidays.

By the time he’d left her to get ready for the mulled wine tasting, he’d definitely seemed more open.

Excited, too. Apparently, he was portaling a winemaker in from Germany, one renowned for her knowledge.

“Don’t be late, it starts at eight,” he’d chided cheerfully when he’d left.

It was now five minutes to and she hurried along with Henry trailing. She blamed him for spending ages in the shower again. Seriously, the man took twice as long as she did, and her hair had a special care routine.

She’d gone with an appropriate color for her dress, dark red, the hem shorter than she’d like, but she figured Siddeley would enjoy the nod to Christmas.

He was a man who appreciated tradition—probably because of his mom’s obsession with bloodlines—but also whimsy.

Since she couldn’t conjure very well, she made a mental reminder to head into town to buy some Christmas accessories. No harm in sucking up at this point.

She was so preoccupied with the thought, it took her several steps before she realized Henry had stopped. She looked back, impatience riding her voice. “You forget something?”

He hesitated before blurting out, “I’m sorry about this morning.”

Ridiculously, she felt her cheeks flame. “It’s…whatever. I forgot to put up the energy wall, obviously.”

His expression became as serious as she’d seen it since the amnesia. “I can sleep on the floor.”

“Don’t be stupid. More stupid.”

“You shouldn’t have to worry I’ll attack you in your sleep.”

How was she even meant to answer that? Especially when she had a sneaking suspicion who’d climbed on top of whom last night.

She settled for telekinetically flicking him on the forehead. “I said don’t be stupid. You’d never hurt me. Well, not like that,” she amended, gesturing forward. “Now, come on, we’ll be late.”

“I’m serious, Tia. Put up the energy wall tonight. I’d… I’d like to promise it won’t happen again but…well.” That hint of red appeared on his cheeks. He smiled ruefully. “I don’t remember you but apparently my body does.”

She hummed, gaze turning inward. “It’d have a lot to remember.”

He blinked.

Shit. She’d said it aloud.

Tia made herself sneer before tension could touch the air. “Relax, pretty boy. It was a joke. And you didn’t attack me. I woke up draped over you, okay? It was just as much me. Want me to promise I won’t do it again?”

His snort was soft. “Maybelline didn’t raise no fool.”

She wet her lips, hiding her racing pulse. “Okay, so, can we go?”

He nodded, moving toward her. She told herself not to look, but apparently her self-control was shit tonight because her gaze dropped to the muscles she now knew hid beneath his sweater.

She’d been able to kid herself before, that reality wouldn’t measure up to a memory.

Except they’d both been in their early twenties when they’d last been together.

He was a full-grown man now. Heavier, harder. Her face felt hot as he neared and she all but ran down the stairs ahead of him. Yes, definitely harder.

“Who’s ready for some wine?” Siddeley was saying as she entered the dining room.

Her hand was the first to shoot up.