The Witch And The Werewolf. Michele HaufЧитать онлайн книгу.
brightened, pleased to have another conspirator present. “She told you about the Sasquatch?”
“That she did.” He leaned his elbows onto his knees, giving her his full attention. “You must have been frightened something fierce.”
“Who me? Oh, gosh, no. I may have been initially surprised to see such a big, ugly, hulking beast tromping through my prized tulips, but that didn’t stop me from getting a very good look at the monster.”
Lars’s jaw tensed. It was a good thing he wasn’t holding the glass of lemonade because Mireio guessed his clenched fingers might have sent shards flying.
Mrs. Henderson laid the notebook down on the table and Mireio turned it so both she and Lars could look at the—quite talented—sketch of what looked similar to an ape-like man with long hairy fingers and a hunched back and shoulders. The head was all wrong, not matching the werewolf’s actual wolf head and long toothy maw, but instead more resembling a man with large ears and a flat monkeylike snout.
“Remarkable,” Mireio said with a secret glance and smile to Lars.
“Is it how you remembered the beast too?” Mrs. Henderson asked eagerly. “I intend to bring this sketch in to the police, but I’m still not so sure I got the nose right.”
“Oh. Well...” Mireio shrugged. “I didn’t get a very good look at it. I had initially thought it was a moose...but I’m sure what you’ve drawn here is very close.”
“But you said it stopped and stared at you for a moment. Surely you must have seen details? Did you look into its big glowing yellow eyes?”
Mireio met Lars’s lift of his brows. He was smirking now, thank the goddess. He obviously understood there was no fear of him being found out with such a drastically wrong drawing, no matter who the woman showed it to.
“Maybe a little longer,” she said, tapping the nose. “And did you get the tail?”
“The tail?” Mrs. Henderson picked up the sketch and studied it. “I’m not sure I remember...oh. Sure. A tail. Of course, Sasquatches have tails.”
“Do they?” Lars asked.
“Oh, yes,” Mrs. Henderson replied with knowing authority. “I’ll have to add that. Thank you, Mireio. Oh.” She placed a hand on Lars’s shoulder. “Will you be around more often? To, you know, keep an eye on our sweet Mireio?”
“Uh...”
“I think I hear the oven timer for the last loaf of bread,” Mireio interrupted. “We’ll talk later, Mrs. Henderson. Lars, would you help me bring in the dishes?”
“It was nice meeting you, Mrs. Henderson,” he offered as he dutifully and quickly followed Mireio’s escape route into the kitchen.
The two of them watched out the window until Mrs. Henderson had turned the corner at the back of the house, then they both started laughing.
“That was the most awful rendition of—” she made air quotes “—‘the monster,’ I’ve seen. You don’t look anything like that.”
“Yes, I’m relieved. Must be interesting having that woman living next door, eh?”
“Never a dull moment.” She opened the oven door, which emitted a whoosh of delicious bread scent.
“Mmm, now that scent will lead me back to your door over and over.”
“Good,” she said decisively. “Because I like you, Lars. I’m glad you had the courage to approach me last night. Maybe we can do this again tomorrow night? More like an official date? Because right now I have to go change and head in to work.”
“I’d like that. Ah, but tomorrow night won’t work. I won’t be able to find a...” He winced, pausing to think his words through. “I have a previous engagement. It’s not with another woman. Just something I can’t get out of. How about this Saturday?”
Two days away. “Saturday works for me. But you’ll have to pick me up at the brewery because I have the early shift.”
“It’s a date.”
“Great! Let me wrap up a loaf of bread for you to take along.” She pulled out some brown paper she kept for wrapping baked goods, and with a few folds and tucks fitted it perfectly about a warm loaf and handed it to him.
He took the gift and then glanced to the front door. Back to her. He rubbed a hand along his thigh. “Yes, I suppose I should leave. Thank you for lunch. It was really good.”
“It wasn’t that great. But you’re a guy. Usually guys like any food that’s been made for them that isn’t a TV dinner.”
“So you’ve seen the inside of my freezer?”
He smiled, and she fell into that pretty white gleam of his. He had no idea the impact those pearly whites had on her. And was she blushing? Parts of her suddenly felt very hot.
“Uh. Right. Then I suppose I should go.” He turned, but didn’t walk to the front door.
So Mireio stepped up before him, sensing what he couldn’t say or do. And finding it sweetly endearing. “Did you want to kiss me before you leave?”
He nodded. Eagerly, but with a sheepish shrug. “I wasn’t sure it would be okay.”
The guy had scored one simply by being a sweet, uncomfortable lunk of shy. Mireio crooked her finger, gesturing that he should bow down, and when he got close enough to kiss, she met his lips with hers.
His mouth was not tentative, finding its place against hers with a surety and the promise of more confidence than his speech gave. He didn’t open her mouth, but he lingered, and the pressure of him against her worked a delicious tingle in her core. Mmm, now that was a very not-shy kiss.
When they parted, his eyes darted back and forth between hers. Then his dimples dented his cheeks and his smile caught up. “Saturday can’t come fast enough.” He kissed her quickly, and then turned to leave.
Standing on the threshold and watching his long strides out to his pickup truck, Mireio touched her lips and whispered a blessing for the fact she’d not been a stuck-up witch last night and had decided to talk to the man.
“Good call,” she said to herself. “May the witch and the werewolf get along. At the very least, have some fun.”
* * *
Well past the midnight hour, Mireio startled from her sleep and cried out. She sat up, seeking in the darkness for a creature—with fangs. Heartbeat thundering, she pressed a palm to her chest and, realizing she’d had another nightmare, breathed deeply in and out to calm her fears.
It was always the same. The vampire stood before her holding a bloody heart that dripped onto the toes of her white shoes, forever staining her memories of a younger, more innocent time.
She hadn’t had a nightmare in over a year, but the fact it had returned now disturbed her. She had to perform the immortality spell. But if so focused on preparing for the spell, could she then also concentrate on dating the shy but sexy werewolf?
“Am I doing the right thing?” she whispered into the night.
No one answered. Which was a good thing. That meant she was alone. No creepy vampire anywhere near her. Yet the only way to ensure she was safe from vampires was to rip the heart out of one of them and consume its blood.
She dropped back into the pillows and closed her eyes tightly.
Saturday evening Lars stopped into the brewery. Mireio was ready to go, waiting for him by the door. She bounced on her high heels and her short multiruffled purple skirt caught his eye. And dangling near that skirt was the black fish purse. The woman was a character. And she