Page 122 of Winter Lost

Intrasity Living was owned and operated by the witch Tracy LaBella—otherwise known as Baba Yaga. I had the impression that she was both amused by and passionate about her business.

“Ah,” Adam said, obviously making the connection.

I leaned over and put my forehead on his arm. “This didn’t solve anything,” I said.

“I know,” he agreed.

We traveled maybe twenty miles in silence. Bonarata wasn’t the kind of problem I could fight with essential oils, not even oils blessed by Baba Yaga for general public consumption.

Finally, Adam—still keeping his eyes on the road—raised my hand to his mouth and kissed the back of it. I sighed and kissed the closest part of his body, which happened to be the top of his shoulder.

“I kept waiting, but you didn’t tell him that the orange essential oil raises the humble brownie to ambrosia level,” Adam said.

“He doesn’t deserve good brownies,” I told him.