Page 5 of Witches and Wine (The Mythical Mates of Arcane Cove #1)
Folding my arms around myself and readjusting my posture to appear at least somewhat attractive, I flicked my hair behind me. “I live here.”
Dion’s eyes did that damn twinkle that I couldn’t recall ever failing to make my knees wobbly. “Is that so?” A grin tugged at his lips, and his gaze unabashedly roamed my yoga pants, my hair and landed on my face.
“Yup. Right there, in fact.” I pointed at my apartment building behind him.
He glanced over his shoulder, rubbed his chin, and chuckled with that deep-as-sin voice of his. “I’ll be damned. I live two blocks that way off Sycamore.” Dion jutted his thumb behind me.
Sand coated my throat, and I dragged my nails over my neck. “Wow. That’s uh—that’s close.”
“Sure is,” Dion responded, his husky voice louder now from having stepped within a breath’s reach of me.
Sucking in a quick breath, not because he startled me, but because of the way his scent ignited my core within a heartbeat, I stared at him.
“If you moved here, what happened to your clients?” Dion slipped his hands in his pockets, those dark eyes still taking me in.
Despite my best efforts, I could feel my feet going pigeon-toed, and it may have been the only thing keeping me from collapsing. “Warm transferred to other specialists. After Harm retired, I didn’t see a point in sticking around and sought greener pastures.”
“And you settled on the Cove?” Dion’s brows did that skin-pinching quirking I remembered when he was especially curious about something.
I continued to rub my neck, undoubtedly making it red. “I don’t know how to describe it other than it sung to me. Is that crazy?”
“Not crazy, Red. Not in the slightest.” He smiled again, tilting his head to one side. “Look at you. Moved away from your comfort zone, are out in public without any make-up, you smoke, and you have blue icing on your cheek.”
“I—what?” Wiping my hand over the same side Dion pointed, I grimaced at the blue stain smearing my palm. And Tobias couldn’t have done me a solid and warned me in the shop? “Dammit,” I said under my breath.
“And you’re swearing?” Dion leaned back, his hands still in his pockets, and a roar of laughter burst from his chest. “Fuck, Chels. This place is doing you some good, huh?”
One could say that. One could also say it led me back to him . And that realization was about as terrifying as it was invigorating.
Not answering him, I kept wiping my hand over that spot on my face, thinking I hadn’t gotten it all.
“Listen, Stewart. I’m sure this will come as a shock to you, but I pretty much know everyone in town, and I happen to excel at socializing.” Dion pressed a hand to his chest and bowed.
Whenever he referred to me by my last name in the past suggested he meant business.
“You don’t say,” I mused with extra sarcasm and a grin that I couldn’t stop if I tried.
“Why don’t I introduce you to some potential clients? Save you the leg work.”
The urge to fidget suddenly overwhelmed me. “You’d do that?”
Dion guffawed and uncomfortably rubbed the back of his neck. “Damn. The way you said it makes me sound like an asshole.”
“I didn’t mean it like that. I just—” I reached a hand toward him before I had the chance to think about my actions.
Dion wore a jacket, but a spark still sizzled from our contact the moment my fingers rested on the fabric.
Gulping, I let my touch slip away, harboring that pleasantly surprised expression he gave.
“—that’s a huge ask. What would you want in return? ”
“Sex,” Dion clipped without hesitation.
My cheeks flushed, and my stomach sprung into erratic somersaults at the mere thought of it with him—with the Greek god of wine and?—
“I’m kidding,” he added, bending his knees to look me in the eye. “Unless it’s on the table.”
I threw him an exasperated glare and said nothing because I couldn’t trust myself with words. Given the butterflies dancing in my stomach, I may have taken him up on it.
“Right,” Dion said, smirking. “Look. Don’t worry about it. It’s very much in my wheelhouse and not a big deal.”
Combing some hair over my ear, I felt my cheeks blush again, but for an entirely different reason. “Dion, you know I can’t without?—”
“Okay, fine,” Dion interrupted, waiting for me to lift my gaze back to his face. “A date then.”
The butterflies turned into hummingbirds. “A date ?”
“Yup. Just a date.” Dion leaned his shoulder on the streetlamp situated between us. “No preconceived expectations. Just us.”
Us.
Any woman in their right mind would’ve already answered him with a resounding “fuck yes,” but if I was being honest with myself, Dion put me on edge. It wasn’t because I worried about him hurting me in a physical sense, but the emotional side? Well, he hadn’t exactly kept the best track record.
Then again, Harm was rooting for us. She’d already confessed that to me weeks ago. And if he did hurt me? He’d have two war gods to contend with. It was enough reassurance.
“Alright, fine.” I leaned on the same pole and lifted my nose into the air like this was a typical business transaction.
“Great. I’ll pick you up tomorrow.” Dion bit his lower lip, his brows bobbing.
Pushing from the pole, I eyed him warily. “Tomorrow? You haven’t introduced me to any clients yet.”
Dion winked at me before briefly, ever so fleetingly, cupping my chin with his thumb and forefinger. “I’ll have you meet six tomorrow during the day, and by night, we’ll go on our date. Yeah?”
The confidence swarming this man in absolute spades .
“I—” Words again failed me, and I slapped a palm to my forehead. “—sure.”
“It’s settled then.” Dion snapped his fingers, a new form of hitch in his giddy-up as he started to walk past me in the direction of his home. “Oh, and Chels?—”
Here it was—some clandestine confession or explanation as to why he took so long to text me.
“You might want to use some soap on that.” He pointed to his cheek where the previous icing had been on mine. “Looks like it stained your skin blue.”
Mortification consumed me, and I fought the compulsion to lift the collar of my shirt over my face. “Will do, see you tomorrow.” I rushed the words before I power walked toward my building.
“I’m super stoked to have run into you, Red,” Dion shouted after me with his hands cupped around his mouth.
Given it was three in the morning, I looked for a light turning on from one of the apartment windows, yelling at us to pipe down. Not answering him, I pointed to myself and then held up two fingers.
Dion chuckled, used his thumb to scratch his chin, and turned on his heel with his hands in his pockets.
And here we had it. I was about to let Dionysus, a Greek god, attempt to seduce me. I knew it. He knew it. And now, there wasn’t any more beating around the bush over it. But there was too much fun still to be had before letting myself fully succumb to his charm. That is—if I could help myself.