Magical Midlife Love (Leveling Up 4)

“Damn,” Jasper said softly. “I had my eye on her.”

“I don’t mind sharing if you don’t find anyone else.”

“Wow. And that’s my cue to go inside.” I turned and strode forward, only to walk into a wall of man.

Seventeen

“Excuse me,” I murmured, putting my head down and scooting to the side, my default for when I’ve smashed into someone and want the brief awkwardness to quickly pass so I can continue on my way. No need for forced conversation or over-the-top apologies—better to just be embarrassed and then move on with life.

Only, the wall of muscle didn’t move. Nor did the people behind me edge forward. They didn’t even shift their weight in impatience, instead pushing back and giving us room. They clearly didn’t think I was going anywhere.

I gave a cursory glance up, the guy’s wide chest and broad shoulders taking up a good portion of the doorway. I wouldn’t be squeaking by him, and given that he was just standing there, silently expecting something to happen, he clearly didn’t intend on brushing past me.

He looked down at me, his piercing blue eyes and stony expression pegging him as one of Austin’s brother’s people, and his air of patient importance and raw intensity marked him as someone powerful who thought the sun shone out of his ass.

Or maybe that was just my bad mood and fraying temper.

“Apologies, my lord. Please, let me humbly stoop out of your way.” I took a step back, using my magic to shove the people who’d lined up behind me, Sebastian included (I’d have to apologize later). I bowed with a flourish and swept my hand out, indicating he should walk on.

“You are?” the man asked.

“Late for tea.” I straightened, about at the end of my tolerance, and met his stare with one of my own.

“We don’t allow mage magic in this bar.”

“I’ll use my mage magic to throw you out of that bar if you push me. Otherwise, please move aside. I’m a regular.”

Dead silence rang in my ears, hinting at the very bad decisions I was currently making, but I didn’t care. I could just hear Niamh hassling Paul about getting her another drink, and I wanted to sit among familiar company and complain a little.

“I will let you in, but know that the alpha is on his way. He might not be as forgiving as I am.”

“Awesome. Fantastic. Can’t wait.”

He continued to stand there.

I let my eyebrows climb. “Are you waiting for a red carpet, or did someone flip your switch and you don’t know how to get started again?”

“That mouth will get you in trouble one day,” he growled.

“Let’s hope so. I haven’t been in a fight for a while. I might forget how.”

He backed up, one precise step at a time, his body moving in perfect harmony, his age, early fifties, only showing in the lines on his face and the graying at the temples of his otherwise sandy-blond air. Next to no fat padded his body, and age didn’t seem to have touched his powerful physique. He’d be a handful in a fight. Cheryl would be outmatched by sheer brawn.

He turned sideways and gestured me into the bar.

“Please.”

I narrowed my eyes at him. It sounded more like a command than polite manners or a gesture of goodwill.

I returned the favor, only my tone suggested where he could shove his command. “Thanks.”

People glanced up as I came through, although, thankfully, most of them were people I knew.

As I approached Niamh, I kept an eye on the mountain by the door. He’d taken up a position against the wall, hands clasped in front of him, eyes firmly on me. Sir Stares-a-Lot would be watching me all night now, or until Austin got here and hopefully shooed him away.

“Well, Jessie.” Niamh pointed her thumb at me before turning to the short-haired thirty-something woman on the stool next to her. “Here, you, move down, would ya? I’ve got a friend coming through.”

The woman was also clearly imported, with the same staring problem.

“If ye are looking for sign language with all that gawking, I’m sorry to disappoint,” Niamh said, sounding just as surly as I felt. “All I know how to say with my fingers is feck off.”

“Faith,” the man by the door said, not a bark of command or even very stern, just the name, delivered with a crack of power.

Her lips tightened, holding something back, but she pushed herself up using nothing but her heavily muscled arms, and, still just using her arms, “walked” herself to the open seat next to it and slowly lowered back down.

“If yer trying to look intimidating, you’ve gone and missed the mark, love,” Niamh said, reaching for her drink. “It’s foolish ye’ve managed.”

“Keep it up, old woman,” the woman said, so low I barely heard. “I won’t be on a leash forever.”