Zyah circled back to stand in front of him, the flames from the fireplace dancing over her body, licking at that secret place between her legs. “I can see why you love this room.”
He caught her hips and urged her toward him, hungry for her taste. One hand skimmed down her hip, trailing to the inside of her thigh. “I’m suddenly so hungry, baby, you’ll have to feed me before I starve.”
She threw her head back. “You’re supposed to be drying my hair.”
“After. I need to build up my strength to be up for the task.”
Her fingertips trailed over his cock, brushing fire over him. “You’re up for something,” she whispered, and stepped right into him, offering him everything.
THIRTEEN
Player walked very slowly, moving casually down the sidewalk in Sea Haven, glancing into the store windows as he passed them by. He targeted one store in particular. The sign was clever, wooden, in the shape of a hat, although what the name had to do with a tea and organic bath and lotion shop, he didn’t know. The Floating Hat sounded intriguing, but aside from cups in the windows looking like hats and the bells shaped like hats on the doors, the shop had nothing whatsoever to do with hats. What the hell did that even mean? Women. Always a mystery. Still, when he looked inside, the store felt inviting.
The space looked smallish from the outside, with bay windows on either side of the door facing the street. One window held the intriguing hat-shaped cups, an assortment of teas and stacked caddies of delicious-looking scones. The other window held lotions and bath products. Glancing into the windows, it was easy to see that the store was quite spacious, which was good, given that he had a difficult time with confined places. He could see at a glance that behind the counter there was at least one more room and another exit.
There were tables and chairs in one area. Most were for two people; some were for four. There was one larger table that could handle at least six. The tables were a distance apart from the other half of the store, creating a feeling of openness. He thought if Zyah and her grandmother really wanted to go there, he might make the sacrifice and take them.
Player walked on past to the end of the block, turned and made his way slowly back, trying to look as if he were just looking at the various stores. Coming up beside him, Preacher began whistling a tune off-key, making him wince. “Love Potion Number Nine” seemed to be a favorite lately with him whenever he was around Player and the subject of coming to Hannah’s shop came up.
“What is that infernal racket you’re making? You sound like a dying cow.”
Preacher grinned at him. “Just wanted to get you in the mood.”
Player flipped him off, glaring at him as he paced back up the sidewalk, carefully avoiding looking into the store he was weighing whether or not to go into. “Don’t look, you moron, she’ll notice,” he hissed. “She’s standing right by the window.”
“It’s your third time walking past her shop, Player. I think she’s noticed,” Preacher said, shoving a hand through his wealth of out-of-control curls, the bane of his life. “Our Torpedo Ink cuts kind of stand out, don’t you think? And then there’s Destroyer, sitting over there looking mournful with the bikes, and Lana and Alena across the street, grinning like apes, pretending they’re shopping at the clothing store when really, they’re making fun of you.”
Player stopped walking and turned his head alertly to look for his Torpedo Ink sisters. “Why would they be making fun of me?”
“Because this was the dumbest idea on the planet, that’s why. You need a love potion, I can make you one,” Preacher assured. “You don’t need to come here.”
“I’m not looking for a love potion. Who the hell said I was looking for a love potion?” He gave Preacher his fiercest scowl. “Get the hell away from me. Go over and wait by the bikes with Destroyer. At least he’s got the good sense to stay over there when he thinks we’re doing stupid things.”
Preacher grinned at him. “Not a chance. You’re going into that shop, and I’m not letting you go in alone. Hannah Drake Harrington is one powerful witch. Someone has to save your worthless ass.”
“She’s not a witch. She’s the wife of the local sheriff, and if you call her a witch, he’s going to put a bullet right through your fuckin’ heart. Seriously, Preacher, go away. This matters to me, and I don’t want you to embarrass me.”
Four little boys ran down the sidewalk across the street, nearly running right into Alena and Lana. “Hannah! Miss Hannah!” they called out in unison. They were all laughing. They looked to be around eight.