“It might be a little warm.”
“Is it glowing?”
“No, but it has a faint green aura.”
“What does that mean?” Glo asked.
I shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m new to all this.”
We looked at Diesel.
“No clue,” Diesel said. “Not my area of expertise, but the grilled cheese was excellent.”
“So maybe someone put a whammy on my book, and that’s why the spells don’t work right,” Glo said. “Maybe there was some rival wizard, and he jinxed Ripple’s book.” She took her book back and shoved it into her tote bag. “I’m going to talk to Nina from the Exotica Shoppe tomorrow. I’ll get to the bottom of this.”
CHAPTER TWENTY
I walked Glo to the door, and we looked down the hill to Mrs. Dugan’s yard, where a tow truck and police car were parked, lights flashing. Mel Mensher had joined the rest of his crew at the crash scene, and all was quiet at my house.
“Shoot,” Glo said.
“Faulty parking brake,” I reminded her.
Glo grimaced, got into her car, and drove away.
“I like her,” Diesel said, standing behind me. “She has imagination.” He slid an arm around my waist and rested his chin on the top of my head. “I like you a lot more. No logical reason for it.”
I thought it was great that he liked me, but it would be better if he knew why.
“I know why,” he said, reading my mind, his lips brushing against my ear, “but I’d jeopardize my standing as a macho jerk if I gave you a big gooey list of reasons. And if I was honest, it would lean heavy to smooth skin and soft breasts.”
“Unh.”
“Is that a good grunt or a bad grunt?”
“I thought you were reading my mind.”
“Sometimes your mind is a mess.”
“I was thinking your standing as a jerk is intact.”
His arm tightened slightly around me, and he kissed me just below my ear. “That’s a huge relief.”
The kiss sent a rush of pleasure humming through me, and I unconsciously murmured, “Mmmmmm.”
Good grief, I thought. Did I just make that utterly rapturous sound? Did I actually moan out loud? Over a kiss, no less. And it wasn’t even a hot kiss. The kiss had been almost friendly!
“I made that sound because I was thinking about cupcakes,” I told him.
“Sweetheart, you wish a cupcake could make you feel that good.”
I was speechless. I felt my mouth drop open and my eyes go wide.
Diesel grinned down at me. “On a scale of one to ten, how offensive was that remark I just made?”
“Seven.”
“I’m off my game. I can be much more offensive than that.”