Wanda smiled her sweet smile and bobbed her head, folding her hands in front of her. “The very best demon.”
Rick remained quiet during their conversation, and she sensed his reluctance in waves of discomfort. The thread was strong, wrapping around her heart and tugging.
So she elbowed him in the ribs, more because she rather liked touching him than to get his attention. “You okay with all this magic and demon stuff?”
His wide shoulders lifted in a shrug, but his eyes had a faraway, haunted look. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
Blowing her hair from her eyes, she shook her head. “Nah. Don’t pretend like you didn’t tell us last night you’ve had some bad experiences with magic. If we’re gonna do this, Rick, or at least give it a fair shot, you have to be straight with me. Besides, in case you were wondering, I can feel you’re upset. I don’t know if that’s what I’m supposed to do as a familiar, but I can, and it has to do with your heart. So I’m just checking on you. You don’t have to tell me what soured you to your people, you just have to be honest that you are, in fact, sour.”
His lips began to thin, but she gave him a stern look. “I mean it, Rick. Don’t clam up on me now.”
“It’s a sore subject for me.”
“The journey of a thousand miles begins with one step,” she encouraged, drying her hands on the towel and taking a step back from him.
Everything about Rick was delicious. The way he smiled when he really meant to express his happiness. The way he looked at her with those intense dark eyes. The way he smelled. The way he’d protectively held her hand last night as he’d brought her back to the shed, and stayed by her side until they’d finished explaining how she’d come to be his familiar and who the OOPS girls and Calamity were.
But she wasn’t only feeling what he was feeling; she was feeling things for him. Things she was uncomfortable feeling in the midst of all this turmoil. It was probably a hard-and-fast rule somewhere in the Big Book of Witches that familiars and their warlocks shouldn’t have lustful thoughts for one another—she’d do well to remember that.
He stopped rinsing the last dish, interrupting her thoughts, and capturing her eyes with his gaze, a gaze no longer so far away. “Lao Tzu.”
“Huh? Is that another magical, mystical, demon-freeing night I have to be afraid of?”
Rick gave her a crooked grin, but his dark eyes were full of questions. “No. It’s who said the quote you just repeated. The journey thing.”
Where had that come from anyway? But she shrugged it off. “Oh. Well, Lao was a smart cookie because it’s true. So how about you don’t do the man thing and deny your squishy feelings anymore? At least acknowledge they exist. Because they do, and they interfere with our progress if you can’t at least own them. It gives me a point of reference when you turn into a crabby ass.”
He took a step forward, getting so close she could count the navy-blue lines on the fitted green shirt he wore. “Are we making another deal?”
Poppy’s lips were suddenly dry, her throat tight. “If that’s what it takes.”
“Okay then, deal. I’ll no longer hide the fact that I’m opposed to magic in all forms.”
“You sure weren’t opposed to using your magic when you froze Nina…”
He grinned, the white flash of his teeth and the deep brackets on either side of his lips making her stomach turn a flip. “Have you encountered her in threatening pose?”
Poppy giggled, swishing the towel in the space left between them as though she might ward off his sexy with mere fabric. “That’s very fair. She can be very Fight Club.”
“Yeah. She sure can. It happened without me thinking, though. She was there, and a woman to boot, a very angry woman. I would never hit a woman, but she was coming at me, full thrust, so I stopped her.”
“In her tracks. It was quite impressive. She hasn’t stopped bitching about it since it happened. But here’s a thought. Maybe you could use your magic for good sometimes and you wouldn’t hate it quite as much.”
He stared at her for what felt like a hundred years before he said, “Maybe I could, Poppy McGuillicuddy. Maybe I could.”
His phone rang then, breaking the spell of whatever was happening between them, reminding her once again, she had no business having lustful thoughts for a man she had to spend the rest of her life spouting advice to.
But shoot, he was really good to look at, which was going to make her own journey that much more difficult.
Chapter 11
As they headed down the long corridor at Sunset Ridge Nursing Home, Poppy tried to keep her nausea at bay. She’d experienced this deep unrest from the moment they’d pulled into the parking lot of the home, with its beautiful oak trees lining the entry, the rolling green hills littered with fall leaves, and the quaint brick building housing the seniors.