Page 11

ELEVEN

willow

M y lips parted, and the slightest breath of air escaped them as I stared at his face. Into those dark eyes, which I never failed to get lost in. No matter if they were red or deep chocolate brown, there was something so captivating about them. About him, really.

I let my gaze linger down to his lips.

There was no mistaking the way he did the same.

We were so close together, barely an inch left between our bodies, and I was struck with the sudden realization that I wanted him. More than I ever could have imagined.

Maybe I shouldn’t have—he was a demon, after all, and my whole life I’d been taught to stay away from them—but I couldn’t help it anymore.

Not when I’d spent the entire day in his presence, and he’d let me drag him wherever I’d wanted to go. When we’d been sitting together on the hayride, our thighs touching, sharing the same blanket… I wondered, was he feeling the same way?

“Willow,” his voice rasped out. “Don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?” Mine was hardly a whisper against the wind, but I hadn’t needed to say it at all.

My tongue ran over my lips, moistening them as we stared at each other. If we moved just a fraction of an inch, we’d be kissing. All I had to do was lean up, and?—

“Like you want me to kiss you.”

His hand tightened on my waist, keeping me pinned firmly to him. The other spread across my back, and the heat from his palm was practically burning me, but I didn’t want it to stop.

“But…” I looked up at him through my eyelashes. “What if I do?”

“Little witch…” He warned, a pained expression forming over his features, even as I gripped his jacket tighter. “I don’t think you know what you’re getting yourself into.”

I did. But… I don’t care. The realization struck me, hard and fast. I didn’t care what I got into with this man, this demon, as long as he kissed me.

“Kiss me,” I whispered. “Please.”

He exhaled roughly before that hand holding my back threaded through my hair, and he bent down and—Damien’s lips were on mine.

Soft, like he was gauging my response. Making sure I was okay with it. Wrapping my hands around his neck, I curled my fingers into his hair, tugging him down more forcefully against my mouth.

The first stroke of his tongue against mine had me gasping. The sudden surety—the rightness I felt—I’d never felt like this kissing anyone before.

Magic, my brain wanted to say. But I knew magic, and this was nothing like my powers.

Not when every movement of his tongue in my mouth, every press of his lips against mine had me dizzy, my mind blurring.

I wanted more.

I wanted him to kiss me like this forever.

Sighing into his mouth, I wrapped my arms around his neck.

That was all the invitation he needed to pick me up, spinning me around to pin me against the straw bales as he explored my mouth with his tongue, not letting go.

“Fuck, Willow,” he murmured, awe in his voice as his eyes traced over every inch of my face. Lingering, memorizing. I tugged on the back of his hair, pulling his mouth back to mine.

Bringing our lips together. Now that I’d felt it, I didn’t want to stop.

By the time we made it out of the maze, the sun was gone from the sky.

* * *

“Look!” They’d fully decked the barn out for the festival, the string of lights on the ceiling illuminating the dance floor. “It’s beautiful.” I emitted a dreamy sigh.

I’d always dreamed of having a wedding like this one day. If I met the right person. Lately, that had seemed less and less likely. Except…

The man by my side was making me think of things like that again. Which I couldn’t afford to do. He’d only said he’d stay for a month. I couldn’t expect a lifetime from a demon, of all people.

He wasn’t from here. Didn’t belong in Pleasant Grove. I let loose a deep sigh.

Damien rubbed his thumb over the crease in between my brows. “What are you thinking, little witch?”

I shook my head. “Nothing.” Forcing a smile on my face, I refocused my attention on the barn. “It doesn’t matter.”

He looked skeptical, but I ignored that. “Do you want to get a drink? They have pumpkin beer.”

Damien groaned. “You and pumpkin. Is there anything in the flavor that you don’t like?”

“Nope!” I beamed. “I even have pumpkin cupcake scented body wash.”

Grumbling under his breath, he said something that I was pretty sure sounded like, Of course you do. But I couldn’t be sure.

Still, I pulled him over to the bar, ordering a beer for him and a pumpkin hard cider for me.

Damien’s eyes trailed over the room as he sipped his drink. He made a face after swallowing. “That is… truly something.”

I laughed. “It’s okay if you don’t like it. I won’t be offended if you don’t finish it.”

He grunted, taking another sip.

My eyes tracked the movement as his tongue slid over his bottom lip, catching the extra drops of liquid. I could practically feel my body heating as I thought about that kiss earlier—feeling his tongue against mine. Wondering what else it could do.

You’re losing it, Willow, I told myself, awkwardly avoiding eye contact as I chugged my cider. I should have picked something with a higher alcohol content—maybe it would have given me the courage to be more bold.

Instead, I was standing and watching the couples on the dance floor twirling their partners in their arms. They were doing some sort of upbeat, country two-step dance I ought to have known by now. I wasn’t much for dancing, though. Maybe I just hadn’t found the right partner.

“Come here,” Damien whispered, holding his hand out to me.

I took it, surprised when he spun me into his arms.

“Oh, you have moves, do you?” Maybe part of me was just surprised he knew how to dance. Especially as he spun me around, his feet moving faster than my eyes could seem to keep up with.

“It’s the demon realm, not hell,” he said, his deep voice rough against my ear. “I learned how to dance when I was young.” Why did that make him even more endearing?

He shut his eyes, a warm smile curling on his lips. “My mother loved to dance.”

“Damien…” I murmured. That was the sweetest thing he’d ever said. “What happened to her?” I’d lost my own parents, but hearing him talk about her in the past tense made my heart ache.

He shook his head. “My father… the palace… even with all the guards, it wasn’t the safest place for her.” A distant look filled his eyes, like he was thinking about the past. “She died protecting me.”

I knew what it was like—losing a parent—but not like that. “Mine passed in a boating accident,” I said in a whisper. “I’m sorry you had to go through that alone.”

His eyes connected with mine, and the pain evident in them… It made me want to kiss him again, just to take it away for a little while. Or maybe give him a hug. I wasn’t sure which one. But given that we were in the middle of a crowded dance floor, I just kept letting him lead me.

“It’s been a long time.” His grip on my back tightened. “It doesn’t hurt as much anymore.”

I rested my head on his shoulder. “That pain… It never really leaves you, though.”

“No,” he agreed. “It doesn’t.”

We were quiet for awhile after that, just losing ourselves in the music’s flow.

“Can I ask what happened to them?” Damien’s voice was quiet, resigned. Like he thought I wouldn’t answer.

“I don’t talk about it much,” I said, honestly. “Most people in town know what happened, and my coven, well… You’re the first person who’s asked about them in a long time.” I fiddled with his shirt with my hand that wasn’t still holding onto his. “They’ve been gone for years. I still miss them, of course, but I stopped crying ages ago. I had to be strong for Luna. Keep it together for her.”

“How old were you?” He murmured.

“21. I was in college when I got a call. There was a freak accident. And Luna, she… She’d barely graduated high school.”

He rubbed my back. “So you came back?”

I nodded. “So I came back. Finished a semester early, got my degree, and then kept our house from falling apart as Luna went to pastry school. She knew what she wanted and I…” Didn’t. Hadn’t had a dream.

“Did everything for your sister.”

“Yup.”

He made a noise of agreement. “I know what that’s like. To feel you’ve given up your life for your sibling.”

“It’s not that I don’t think it was worth it. I love Luna. I love working together, the business we’ve grown. The Witches' Brew is my baby as much as it is hers. It’s just…”

“Not your dream.”

I looked up at him. “Yeah,” I whispered. “It’s not my dream.”

He cleared his throat. “So what is?”

“You know, I think I’m still figuring it out.”

“Me too.”

I laughed. “What, two hundred and eighty-seven years wasn’t enough to figure out what you wanted to do with your life?”

Damien brushed a hair behind my ear. “It didn’t feel like much of a life until I met you.”

Our eyes connected again, and this time—I held his gaze. Drank it in. Reveled in it.

Knew that something about it was going to change my life.

Maybe in all the ways I’d always dreamed it would.