Michele Hauf

The Witch And The Werewolf


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meal. She’d sprung up from the couch to retreat so abruptly, he suspected he’d said something wrong.

      “I’m sorry,” he said to her as she bent before the open oven and tested the dish with a fork. “I think I went too far in there.”

      “No, you didn’t.” She popped up and set the fork aside. “I don’t want to get into all the details about my mom. It’ll make me cry. Okay?”

      “Deal.” At least she was honest. He could respect that. “How much longer? I could eat that whole pan if you let me.”

      “Let me have a little corner and you can go right ahead and attack the rest. Ten minutes. You want more beer?”

      “No, I’m good. Gotta drive Peanut home later.”

      “Don’t tell me you’re a lightweight?”

      “With beer? No. Takes a lot to get us wolves drunk. But I’m trying to do the responsible thing now. You know?”

      “I get that. But if you ever want to not be responsible for a little while?” She pointed at her chest where her low-cut blousy shirt revealed ample cleavage. “You know where to find me.”

      “We do have a few minutes. Why don’t you come on over and show me a little irresponsibility?”

      She spun around the end of the kitchen counter and leaned toward him where he sat on a barstool. With him sitting, they came face-to-face, and he was thankful for that when he saw the kiss coming. Pushing his fingers up through her soft, bright hair, Lars accepted her sweet offering and smiled against her mouth. “You taste like tomato sauce.”

      “That’s a preview for supper. You like?”

      “I do.” He kissed her again and this time delved in deeper with his tongue, tasting her tomato sweetness and dashing the tip of his tongue along her teeth.

      Mmm, she was hot and soft and when she put her hands on his knees to balance, he wished she’d landed that touch a little higher up. There, where his erection was teasing rigidity. It had been a while since he’d been with a woman. And truly, after the past few months of endless diapers and spit-up, he had forgotten how good it could be to kiss one. And touch her. And mmm, just to inhale her.

      He coaxed her forward by sliding his hand over her hip, and she followed directions and leaned into him without breaking their connection. Yep, everything was hard now. Not going to be easy getting through this night.

      Her fingers clutched his shirt and the connection zinged his every nerve ending, sending scintillating tingles all over his skin. It was as if together they created a sort of sensual electricity. And he couldn’t get enough of her mouth, her tongue, her sighs.

      Pressing a hand against her back, he coaxed her forward again and bowed to keep the kiss. Her moan said everything he was feeling: yes, yes and all the yeses in the world. This tiny witch felt so right in his arms; he had to thank the gods for putting him in her backyard even if it had been a strange night that had scared the hell out of him.

      A buzzer dinged, startling them to part their lips, and Mireio laughed. “Supper’s done!” She kissed him quick, then wiped her finger alongside his mouth. “Got a little lipstick on you there.” She tilted her head at him. “Can I have a few more of those awesome kisses for dessert?”

      “You can have as many as you like.”

      Another ding drew her away from him, and Lars adjusted his position and winced as he tried to adjust his hard-on in his tightened jeans.

      * * *

      “A water witch, eh?”

      Mireio dished up another square of zucchini parmesan onto Lars’s plate and then refilled his water goblet. She’d been telling him how she hadn’t chosen the art of water magic but that it had chosen her.

      “My grandmother could never get me out of the tub or the swimming pool. I used to tease her that I could make the water do things, so when she challenged me, I gave it a try. I cast my first water globe when I was ten.” She held her hands apart but curved toward one another as if to hold a ball. “Then I threw it at my granny, soaking her. I had to clean the bathroom for a month after that.”

      Lars’s laughter filled the quiet kitchen. Beside him on the counter, Peanut, asleep in his baby carrier, stirred but didn’t wake.

      She put a finger to her lips to shush them both. “So anyway, I mastered water magic by the time I was twenty. And that led to brewing beer. I like to change and control water. Add a few grains and some hops? Voilà!”

      “So it’s an innate thing with you witches? You’re born able to do magic?”

      “Some of it. As a baby I could swim underwater just like a seal. And I had a habit of curdling the milk before my mother could get it in the bottle. Or so I was told. But some magics we have to study and learn, and maybe never master. I’m trying to learn the healing arts. It should be easy for me. The body is made up of so much water, but I have real trouble invoking a healing spell.”

      “You’ll master it. I know you will. You’re so talented. And beautiful.”

      “You compliment me too much.”

      “What’s wrong with that?”

      “Nothing. I’ve got the Scandinavian gene, you see. We don’t know how to take compliments.”

      “Uff da, you don’t say?” he said with his best Minnesotan accent.

      Mireio laughed. “Ya sure, you betcha. You’ve got the accent too!”

      “Born and raised in Minnesota and damn proud to eat the lutefisk and lefse.” He finished the food and pushed his plate forward. “I am stuffed. And relaxed.”

      She nodded toward his crotch. “I noticed earlier when we were kissing you were anything but relaxed.”

      He blushed.

      “Oh, you’re too cute. I’m going to keep you for a while. The baby too.”

      “Thanks?”

      She stood up on the stool’s bars and leaned over to kiss him quickly.

      Peanut stirred in his carrier. “I should probably head out,” Lars said. “I don’t have any milk with me. Unless you can use your magic to turn water into milk?”

      “Not quite that talented. And I’d hate to give the baby a tummy ache if something went wrong.”

      Lars packed up the baby’s things and retrieved the book from the living room. Mireio walked with the two of them out to the truck parked in her driveway. After Peanut was fastened in and secured, Lars jumped back out and stood before her.

      She waved at the baby and blew him a kiss. “See you later, Charlie!”

      “Charlie?” He leaned against the truck door and gave her the eye.

      “Yeah, thought I’d try out the name on him. You don’t like it?”

      He shrugged. “It’s fine. I’ll have to give it some thought.”

      “I’ve got a few more ideas rolling around in my brain. But I’ll save them for another time. Give you a little time to try that one on a bit. So do I get to see you tomorrow? Uh, I have an appointment in the evening, but then...”

      “What kind of appointment?”

      “The one with the witch who hunts up vampires.”

      “Ah. Do you want me to go along with you?”

      “Would you? She lives in Minneapolis. I know her but not well. I feel sort of weird about the whole thing...”

      “I’ll go along. For uh...” His gaze wandered over her head and took in the front of her house. The pause grew beyond a few seconds.

      Mireio blinked, waiting for him to finish his thought. Did he do that often? Forget