CHAPTER FOURTEEN
~
Thorn had hated to do it, but he’d called in reinforcements. He didn’t really have a choice, as neither he nor his beast had any intention of stepping one foot off his mate’s property and leaving her unprotected, but he’d had a thought on how to start really wooing his mate’s socks off.
“First you get out the pitchforks and chase me away,” the vampire said from inside a thick clump of bushes that shielded him from the sight of the house and Martha’s prying eyes. “But then when you need something — I’m the first person you call.”
“You’re the only damn person that I didn’t think would blab about it,” Thorn grumbled back.
“Oh, how wrong can one man be?” Jai teased him with that the sound of glee in his voice that made Thorn want to slam his fist into the man’s face, repeatedly, and enjoy every second of it.
“Did you get it?” Thorn demanded.
The bush suddenly sprouted a huge bouquet of flowers and a large box of chocolates as the vampire thrust them toward the old alpha. “I’m like a cool version of a genie and your wish is fulfilled.”
“Where’s the wine?” Thorn didn’t sound impressed.
“How many hands do think I have? I’m a vampire, not a bloody octopus. Perhaps you’d like to know where I’ve been holding it.”
“Not now you said that I don’t,” Thorn grumbled as he snatched up the offerings and waited for the wine to appear. Then he grunted and turned on his heels back toward the cottage.
“No, thank you,” the vampire tossed out and got another grunt for his trouble. “I’m so glad I hauled my cookies all the way to town and then back here where I’m not welcome just to help you woo your mate.”
“Do you want me to throw you a parade?” Thorn tossed back over his shoulder.
“Perhaps just a little acknowledgement would go a long way…”
“What are you — female?”
“I’m not ashamed of my feminine side…”
“Well, you should be.”
“And this is the attitude you’re going to use to woo your mate?” The vampire chuckled at the alpha’s expense.
“Nope. This one is just for you.”
Thorn chuckled to himself as he stalked away. He had a mate to woo and no more time to spend chatting with the vampire.
“Good luck — I have a feeling you’re going to need it,” the vampire said as his parting shot before he was gone.
“Nope, no luck needed at all. I’m about to tame my witch shrew, whether she likes it or not.”
~
When he was a pup there was one game that Joel loved to play – now he was older, he wasn’t finding the new spin on that game so darn enjoyable. His mate was playing dodgeball, just without the ball and with every little thing that she could find that wasn’t nailed down to a surface in his cabin.
In truth, he didn’t realise that he left so many useless things lying around. He also didn’t realise that his mate was a firecracker when she got going — and as he dodged the fishing reel that he’d stupidly left on the coffee table from when he’d been repairing it, he noted that she had definitely gotten going.
Sandy was making a beeline for the front door. If she was ever going to stick up for herself and show the world what a wicked witch she could be then now was the time to do it.
In truth, she had mixed feelings about what she was doing, and what she was planning to do, but that didn’t mean that she wasn’t going to do it. Run — run as fast as she could — well, drive — drive as fast as she could, away from her mate, away from the mountain, and away from fate’s evil grasp.
Not that she thought she’d ever get away from fate — or him — but, didn’t she owe it to herself to try?
What kind of a life could she have with a man who didn’t like witches? And he thought that she was devious just because she was a witch? Well, that said more about him than it said about her.
No, she had one life to live, and she was going to live it as she saw fit. Fate could bend over and kiss her backside.
Sandy yanked open the front door, got a good whiff of the freedom on the other side of those walls, and took her first step toward it. That was when she felt those big, muscled, strong arms wrap around her like a steel grip once more, only a lot more gently, and her feet might have been walking — but she was walking in the air.
“Now what kind of a mate would I be if I just let you get away from me without a goodbye?” he grumbled, and underlying growl beside her left ear meant that she couldn’t fight the shiver of excitement that wracked her body, and sent her stupid brain into overdrive once more.
“The understanding type?” she tossed back.
“I’ve been accused of a lot of things, but not that.”
His voice was teasing against her ear, teasing and tempting in ways that she didn’t want to think about, but couldn’t help. It wasn’t fair that the mating pull, fate’s little kick in the pants to ensure mates mated, was working overtime inside her, but she was determined to fight it.
“The rational kind?”
“That either.”
“The pragmatic kind?”
“Sweetheart, I don’t even know what that means, but I’m really sure that if you said, then I’m not that either.”
“You and me both,” Sandy bit out.
What was a witch to do? Sure, she could zap him, but with those big muscled arms around her body was there really any point?
Sandy figured that she would never know unless she tried and she was getting her mean witch on. A heartbeat later, and just a little push on her magic, and she felt those arms tightened around her as the man groaned in pain, and then they were both falling backwards.
Sandy had been looking at a picturesque view of freedom, but then — and with the hard thud of his back hitting the floor that went through her body as well — she was looking at the cabin ceiling.
She groaned inwardly and chalked that one up to stupidity and a learning curve. Sometimes, you should always go with your first instinct — boy, did that look good in hindsight.
~
Martha stepped up to the threshold of the front door, folded her arms, and took a moment to eyeball her mate. Oh, he looked as pleased as punch with himself and his offerings, but was she in the mood to let him off the hook that easily?
“So, flowers because I smell bad — chocolates because I need sweetening up — and wine because if I’m drunk, I won’t notice who I’m spending time with — does that about sum things up?”
Nope, he wasn’t off the hook just yet.
Thorn stared back at his mate with a blank expression. He should have known that his little shrew wasn’t going to cave in that easily at the sight of the few gifts. He would need to sweet talk her into it.
He cocked his head to the side like he was curious about something, one side of his mouth lifted in a slow, cocky grin, and amusement filled his eyes. “Yep.”
Thorn had his own special brand of sweet talk for his mate because he’d been verbally fencing swords with her for a couple of days, and that witch might have liked to win the battle — but boy, did she admire a good opponent.
Martha’s chin slowly rose up until she was looking down her nose at him, and that wasn’t an easy thing to do considering his height. She eyeballed him for a long moment and grunted in a non-committal kind of way.
“I suppose you think you’re funny?” Martha offered with a kind of royal aloofness about her, but that sounded hollow to his ears.
“Yep.”
“And I suppose you think that you can worm your way back into my good graces?”
“Yep.”
“And these little trinkets are supposed to do that?”
“Yep.”
“Explain yourself then, you old buzzard.” Martha narrowed her eyes on him and put the ball firmly in his court.
“Flowers — because they’re of nature and pretty like you. Chocolates – because just like you the package is delicious, but the inside is surprisingly sweet. Wine – because we both need to take the edge off, and – just this once — let our feelings do the talking.”
Martha was more than pleasantly surprised. She didn’t know the old buzzard had it in him to do more than grunt and rise to the bait of a challenge.
“Well,” Martha bit out as she took more than a long moment to consider his words, made a big show of rolling them around in her mind as she nibbled on her inner cheek, and considered putting his backside on the ground. “Look who got all wordy. I guess you’d better come back in.”
Martha abruptly turned on her heels and stalked back into the house. Thorn couldn’t help but smiled to himself as his wolf yipped and pranced within him like a pup.
Thorn lifted his foot and took that first step, out of the corner of his eye he saw a movement in the bushes — that damn vampire was still hanging around. Still, he was back in Martha’s good graces — about to be back in the cottage — and, if things went well and he didn’t put his foot in his mouth again, about to claim his mate.
“Go home, vampire,” Thorn muttered on a growl.
“Well played, old man. I had my doubts.”
Thorn chuckled to himself as he walked into the cottage and backheeled the door closed behind him. In truth, Thorn had his doubts too, but they say that slow and steady wins the race — and that was something both man and wolf had just discovered to be true – he hoped.