“Really?” She batted her thick eyelashes at him, all fake coy and sweet, scooted closer on the bench seat and walked her fingers up his chest, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. “Oh no! Are we having our first couple’s fight?”
Calling her bluff, he captured her hand with his own, lifting it high. The pulse in her wrist beat at an excited pace, betraying the practiced nonchalant look on her face. Wondering just how far he could push her, he brought her wrist to his nose and inhaled her amber and spice scent. No powder-fresh smell for his girl—and she was his. Even as pissed-off as he was at her at this moment, he couldn’t stop himself from dipping his head and tasting that sweet spot on her wrist where she showed everything she was trying so desperately to hide.
Her breath hitched. “I’m not into kinky love spell sex.” But the little lie detector under his lips gave her away.
“And I’m not into being toyed with.” He kissed and nipped his way up the inside of her forearm, taking his time to enjoy every millimeter of her soft skin. Pausing at the crook of her elbow, he looked up at her. “But of course, you might be able to talk me into using some toys, if that’s what you’re into.”
She pulled her arm away, hugging it close to her body. “Sorry to disappoint you but I’m as vanilla as they come.”
The points tenting her shirt and the slight flush to her brown skin told another story—one he wanted to read from cover to cover. “When will you figure out, you can’t lie to me?”
Her pink tongue flicked across her bottom lip, but she didn’t answer. Instead, she pulled out her phone from a pocket in her tiny excuse for a skirt, brought up the WitcheryRUs website and went to work looKing for a way to bust through the Fairy Godmother’s force field surrounding them. Exactly what he should be doing. And he would if he could remember to think with his big head instead of the little one when he was around her.
He pulled his phone out of his pocket and dialed Max’s number. If anyone would have a workaround for becoming a bubble boy, it would be him.
Max picked up on the third ring. “Is this an official wedding invitation?”
“I need to break a bubble.”
“Not what I was expecting. More information please.”
Liam caught Max up on the situation. “I’ve tried everything I can think of.”
“Scan it with your phone and send me the info.”
He swapped over to the Enchanted Translation app and pushed his phone against the force field. The phone’s screen blinked on and off several times before lighting up with a strand of code that it translated into the spell more than likely used to create the bubble. Liam punched a few keys and sent the data to Max.
His best friend let out a series of “hmmms” and “huhs” as he read the information. “Do you happen to have a dried lizard tail that’s been kissed by three fairies on you?” Max asked.
Oh yeah, didn’t everyone carry that around? “Fresh out.”
“That sucks.” Max laughed and tried to cover it with a cough. “Looks like you’re stuck until dawn. It’ll pop like a soap bubble then. Do you need some ideas about how to pass the time away?”
He peeked at Red out of the corner of his eye. She’d pushed away her phone, probably in frustration at not finding a way out, and was resting her head on the back of the booth. Her eyes were closed. Her chest rose and fell in a steady beat, her shirt’s material straining with every inhale. Tempting didn’t begin to cover it. He glanced down at his watch. He had twelve hours alone with Red before the bubble burst and they got back to the business of hunting down the sword. It might be Liam’s best chance at convincing her to forget about trying to break the spell.
“I’ll figure something out.”
###
For the fiftieth time, Red told herself that her wrist was not a sexual pleasure point but her skin wouldn’t stop tingling where Liam had kissed her earlier. She snuck a look at him while he talked on the phone. Everything from his dirty blond hair to the Celtic tattoos to the leather pants that should look ridiculous, but didn’t, had her heart doing the rumba in her chest. The whole situation made her queasy. If this was love, she didn’t want it. She’d stick to her battery-operated boyfriend, thank you very much.
Liam hung up his phone. “We’re stuck here until dawn.”
Everything below her neck became wildly happy while everything above it hunkered down for a fight. “What happens at dawn?”
“The bubble pops.” He shoved his fingers through his hair. The tousled hair only accentuated his bad-boy appeal. “Unless there’s someone you can call tonight for a dried lizard tail that’s been kissed by three fairies?”
If they’d needed a pick-pocket, a smuggler or some muscle, she could have gotten someone in a second—for a steep price. But a friend doing a favor? Not likely. “Nope.”
“Really?” The pity in his blue eyes hit harder than his broad shoulder against the magical dome around them.
She bristled and crushed a peanut shell fragment to smithereens against the tabletop. “Granny’s doing a show in Atlanta and my most trusted employee is the reason why we’re stuck here, so yeah, there’s no one I can call.”
“I might be the werewolf, but you,” he raised an empty pint glass in cheers, “are the lone wolf.”
She laughed despite herself, but the truth of it stung all the same. “It’s hard to miss what you’ve never had.”
Liam settled in and propped his size-fourteen biker boots up on the bench seat on the other side of the table. “How so?”