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Men-On-Pause; A Paranormal Women's Fiction Novel (Bells and Spells Book 2) Page 6
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Page 6
“I’ve got a whole lot of breasts,” Lottie said and grinned. “Amber!” she called and backed it up with a little witchy nudge.
Amber spotted them and smiled. She waved and headed their way.
Lottie practically purred. “Heads up, girls, trouble’s a-coming our way.”
“We’re good,” Marilyn said.
“I was talking to my breasts,” Lottie said and offered a wicked little chuckle.
Marilyn and Claudia looked at each other, and Claudia snickered as Marilyn rolled her eyes. “I’m going to the ladies room; I can’t watch.”
Claudia’s hand slapped against Marilyn’s forearm, and her finger closed around it and bit in. “You move, and I’ll zap you myself,” she bit out. “We’re going to remember this night for the rest of our lives, and when we’re old and grey-ish, and surrounded by a million cats, we’ll need something to make us chuckle and forget our aching bones.”
Marilyn opened and closed her mouth like a goldfish. “Geez, when you put it like that,” she said and turned up her nose. “I should just shoot myself now and get it over with.”
“Oh, my, Goddess, Lottie!” Amber screeched, and the three shifters behind her grimaced and resisted the urge to cover their ears with their hands. “You look fabulous!”
“Do you like them?” Lottie asked, and turned from the left to the right, so everyone could get a better view of her girls.
“Coat check Miss Lottie’s breasts,” Claudia said and got a glare from the elder.
“I like ‘em.” The deep gravelly tones of the shifter elder filled Lottie with good thoughts, and she turned to look at him.
Marilyn sidled up to Claudia, went on tiptoe and whispered. “No room for subtle tonight.”
“Women of a certain age don’t have time for subtle,” Louann said from behind them, and they turned with surprise to find the elder sitting on the stool. “And Lottie has never been backward in coming forward, only now she has the breasts to get there before anyone else.”
Claudia spat out her drink – unfortunately, Cain was in her immediate line of fire. He lifted his chin and rolled on the balls of his feet with a grunt that expressed his views perfectly. Marilyn erupted into fits of laughter, and Claudia groaned. “Sorry,” she said and snatched a handful of napkins from the bar before she thrust them at Cain.
“That was better than the panties thing by a country mile,” Marilyn said, wiping happy tears away from beneath her eyes as she chuckled hard at the shifter’s expense.
“Has anyone ever told you that you’re an evil witch?” Claudia bit out to Marilyn.
“Yes,” Marilyn said chuckling.
“Well, double it,” Claudia grumbled, and shot Cain an apologetic and very sheepish smile.
CHAPTER TEN
~
Scott wasn’t sold on the idea of moving in with the vampire, but considering the circumstances, it was probably for the best. With Amber’s mate being a shifter, he couldn’t very well put wards up to keep shifters out of his mother’s house, and at least he wouldn’t overhear the girlie sex talk that came from the women in his mother’s house lately. He was far from being a prude, but there were some lines that shouldn’t be crossed.
Neal watched the young warlock survey the inside of his home. “Pick a bedroom, not mine, put up your magical guards, and do not lock me out of my own home,” he warned him. “Your grandmother has a knack for that spell, and it doesn’t impress me.”
“You’re leaving?” Scott asked. He shouldn’t have been surprised; after all, the vampire spent most of his time in his mother’s garden.
“I don’t read bedtime stories to toddlers,” Neal tossed back over his shoulder. He had places to be and a witch or two to look out for, and there was a strange shifter unaccounted for in town somewhere.
“That’s funny; maybe when you come back you could bring some food, I don’t think we eat the same thing,” Scott replied.
“This isn’t a holiday…”
“You said not to go out, and I assume that means no takeout either,” Scott said.
Neal rolled his eyes. “I suppose you have a point. There’s no point in saving your life from Roland only for you to die of starvation.”
“Do you have a refrigerator?”
“Two, but I don’t think you’ll want what’s in the one downstairs.”
Scott didn’t think he would either. “As long as it’s not a dead body…”
“Not yet, but keep being this annoying and all bets are off,” Neal warned him. “Do your hocus-pocus, read a damn book, or watch TV, but stay inside.”
“Yes, mom,” Scott said, dropping his bag on the sofa and eyeing the mixture of old and modern furniture that seemed as contradictory as the vampire himself.
Scott heard the front door close and was finally able to breathe correctly. He knew the vampire and his mother had been friends, still were, but he still didn’t fully trust him. The only reason he’d agreed to this move was so he didn’t put his family in any more danger.
“Don’t do the crime if you can’t do the time,” he muttered. It was a favourite saying of his mother’s, and he felt like it was applicable now. He was a prisoner of his own making, and until the danger from Roland and his henchmen had gone, this was his punishment.
~
The eighties party was in full swing at the bar, the music was loud, the DJ was rocking his thing, and Marilyn sat in a corner booth and watched the age-deniers dance like they were teenagers again. She’d done that the last time, and she’d learned her lesson well.
Not being able to walk properly for a couple of days had given her a reason to stay on the sidelines this time. Now, she preferred to watch the mainly middle-aged crowd relive their youth with the smug acceptance that they would be walking like the living dead tomorrow, while she’d be perfectly fine and dandy.
Claudia made a beeline for the booth and flopped down onto the seat like a vampire had tried to drain her lifeblood. “For an elder, Hank sure can dance,” she whined, fanning the flames of heat in her cheeks with her hand before reaching for the drink her friend had been watching over.
“So can Lottie,” Marilyn called back over the pumping beat. “She’s giving as good as she gets.”
“I know, right?” Claudia chuckled as she turned her attention back to their very own Dolly Parton impersonator. “Maybe she should have come as Tina Turner because she sure can shake a tail feather.”
“You weren’t doing so badly yourself…”
“It was the weirdest feeling like somebody was watching me,” Claudia said, eyeing the room.
“I thought you’d appreciate that, being you?”
Claudia leant in towards her across the booth. “It wasn’t that kind of a feeling; it was more like being glared at and feeling those eyes boring into your very soul, you know?”
“No.” Marilyn took a sip of her drink. “Well, not unless you count the vampire, but he’s not here.” Marilyn was reasonably happy in that thought.
Without anyone watching her, she could just be her again – except she was dressed like a kid from Fame. But still, she was sitting behind a table in a booth with nobody paying her much attention, and a lot of people were dressed like neon signposts and glow in the dark traffic lights, so what did she care?
“Sure, he is, he just came in,” Claudia called back, and Marilyn’s radar kicked into gear. She sat up straighter and slowly surveyed the faces in the crowd until she found him.
Neal was sitting on a stool at the bar looking her way. With a drink in his hand; he raised a toast to her and smiled like Sylvester had Tweety Pie in his clutches. Ugh! Well, we all know what happened to Sylvester after that, she thought, thumbing her nose at him and dragging her gaze away, and that’s when she found someone else staring their way, Cain, but he wasn’t looking at her, he had his gaze firmly on Claudia.
Marilyn couldn’t help but smile as she turned her attention to her best friend. “I think I know who’s stalking you,” she said, dragging Claudia’s atten
tion from watching Lottie flirting like a madwoman with Hank.
“Stalking me?” Claudia asked.
“Watching intently?”
“Go on,” Claudia urged, but with the fine hairs on the back of her neck still standing to attention, she wasn’t sure she wanted to know.
“At the bar, three o’clock, don’t look…” Marilyn groaned when Claudia’s head snapped to the right, and she locked eyes with Cain. “I said don’t look,” Marilyn hissed loudly over the song.
Claudia offered the shifter a cold, hard stare, but he didn’t look away. On the other hand, she did, using Marilyn as an excuse to break the eye contact. “Exactly, don’t look – that’s a red rag to a nosy witch.” She leant in further. “Why is he staring at me?”
“How do I know, maybe the fact that your lycra pants are so far up your butt crack and your top is cut so low I can almost see your bikini line, and nothing much is left to the imagination.”
“If you’ve got it, flaunt it,” Claudia said. “Neon-warrior.” She eyed Marilyn’s outfit and frowned. “If you want to attract a man…”
“Which I don’t…”
“But you have,” Claudia replied, and her attention was snagged by Marilyn’s ex walking into the bar. Of course, he wasn’t dressed for the eighties, not unless he was preppy style. “Two of them,” she added and motioned to Jake.
Marilyn shot a look over her shoulder and grunted with annoyance. “I’m doomed,” she said and knocked back the rest of the rum and coke that she’d been nursing for a while, so she didn’t need to get up and go to the bar to replace it.
“Clown to the left of you, vampire to the right, here I am stuck in the middle with you,” Claudia sung and noted the frosty glare Marilyn was giving her. “Why have one when you can have two?”
“I’ll have none, thank you very much, and boy,” she said, pretending to yawn as she looked at the imaginary watch on her wrist. “Is it that late already?”
“Nine thirty?” Claudia said after flicking a look at the large clock on the wall. “Don’t you even think about leaving; even your mother is still up, and Lottie’s dancing up a storm.”
Marilyn didn’t want to be that girl – the one who wimped out and ran away from her troubles. But, she didn’t want to be the filling in a Jake and Neal sandwich either. Yuck, just the thought of being romantically involved with her ex again made her want to hurl.
Marilyn frowned at her empty glass as a thought hit her mind; she hadn’t thought that about the vampire. Surely, the thought of being with a vampire and his blood lust should have sent her running for the hills screaming, and yet, Neal was one of the most enigmatic people she’d ever met.
Marilyn mentally slapped herself around the back of the head. Of course, Neal was everything and more – that’s how vampires were designed – they drew you in and then – wham-o – they had you in their evil clutches, and there was no escape – unless you were a wily witch. She wasn’t about to get drawn into that spider’s web, no Sir, not her.
“I need a drink,” Marilyn grumbled and shot her glass across the table to Claudia.
“Do I look like a waitress?”
“Do I look like I want to leave this booth?” Marilyn asked.
“I’m not going up to the bar with fang staring at me like it’s snack time and…”
“Fine, I have booze at home, and I can kick off these killer heels,” Marilyn said. “Although I might keep the legwarmers on, they do feel good on my ankles…”
“Fine,” Claudia groaned. “I’ll get you a drink, you old lush.” She pushed up, but she slapped her palms down on the top of the table and leant in. “But, if I end up making a crispy critter of that wolf guy, on your head, be it.”
Marilyn snapped on a bright and breezy grin to mock her friend. “Barbecue sounds good, I could snack, and you did already marinate him in booze.”
Claudia pushed away from the table with her hands and placed them on her hips. She had the kind of smile on her lips that told Marilyn that the witch might just go and make trouble just so she could say I told you so, and that was never going to be good for anyone.
Then Claudia turned on her heels and started across the crowded floor for the bar. Marilyn followed her progress until she lost sight of her, blocked by Jake when he stepped into her view line and starred right at her. Maybe it was the eighties music and the costumes, but that moment took her right back in time to when they were younger, and it sent a shiver of something down Marilyn’s spine.
Marilyn was lost in thought when someone placed a drink in front of her and snapped the spell she was under. She looked down at the glass and wondered how long she’d been eyeballing her ex, but when the seat opposite her was taken, it wasn’t by Claudia, but by Neal.
Dang, out of the frying pan and into the furnace. “Did you miss me?” he asked, and Marilyn was lost for a good putdown line. She snatched a look back to the crowd and Jake was gone.
Always go with your first instinct, she thought; I should have gone home.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
~
“Claudia, dance,” Lottie said, and she grabbed hold of the waistband of the witch’s Lycra pants and yanked her backwards.
Claudia’s metal-tipped heel screeched across the floor, and she fell back into a pair of strong arms, grateful to be saved from ending up on her backside on the floor in front of the whole town. The gossipmongers would never believe that she hadn’t been drunk, and chatter would be rife.
The gallant knight placed her upright, stabilized her, and she turned in place to find that Jake was that knight. “Thanks, I think,” she grumbled – wishing it was anybody else but him that had come to her rescue.
Before Jake could say a word, Lottie had her in her grip again, this time with a strangely strong hold on her forearm, and yanked her forward. “You need to dance; it’s good for the soul,” the elder shouted over the music.
“I don’t have a soul, Lottie,” Claudia replied, but it was lost to the music.
“Huh?” Lottie cupped her ear.
Hank leant in. “Why don’t you go see if you can get my broody son off that stool, I think someone might have glued his ass to the seat,” he said with a sparkle of mischief in his eyes and a smile that was warm.
Claudia thought of Hank and his grandson Josh and wondered where Cain had come from. Josh was warm and friendly like his grandfather, but Cain, well, that man could freeze fire with his temperament. “Mr Frostie?”
“He might be moody, but he’s got your good looks,” Lottie said, turning to Hank and throwing an arm over his broad shoulder.
“Oh, dear, Goddess,” Claudia said, wanting to be anywhere but where she was. She loved that Lottie was putting her all into enjoying herself, but she didn’t need to witness it. “Be right back!” she lied and took off for the bar.
Jake stepped in front of her just before she made it to touching the polished wood surface with her fingertips, and the sanity of booze. Claudia groaned. “I already thanked you, saving my pride doesn’t make us friends again.”
Jake touched her arm, and she yanked it away. “I need your help,” he replied. He looked directly into her eyes, and Claudia could have sworn that she saw something unnerving in his gaze – fear?
“The lady said, walk away, Jack.” The deep gravelly tone that came from over her right shoulder told her there was only one man that could be, but why did he care?
“It’s Jake,” he replied and took a step back from Claudia.
Jake had magic, but it was weak, unlike Scott, who seemed to have inherited his mother’s gifts. If Claudia had to guess, she wouldn’t place a bet on Jake being ballsy enough to stand up to a shifter.
“I don’t care,” Cain said.
Claudia was sure she heard an underlying growl rumble just beneath his words, even over the beat of the music. She had to admit, his dismissal of the older warlock did tickle her giggle spot, and she looked up at Jake wondering what the man was going to do – would he find his balls?
>
When Jake turned and walked off into the crowd, Claudia was a little disappointed. It wasn’t that she wanted to see the two men go head-to-head, especially in a crowded bar, but she had wondered if Jake had changed since he’d been away from Clearview. Apparently not.
Now Claudia found herself with a dilemma; she had to face the bad mood shifter. So, did she thank him for the rescue, that wasn’t really a rescue at all because she could handle Jake with one hand tied behind her back and ducking fastballs, or did she berate him for getting involved in her business?
When Claudia turned to face Cain, there was a frown that etched deep lines into his face, and a dark look in his eyes that said he just might want to kill her. She had to wonder why the man would go to the trouble of rescuing-not-rescuing her if he hated her. “Don’t say anything,” Cain growled, the frown turning into a scowl.
Claudia cocked just the one perfectly sculpted eyebrow, and the corners of her lips turned upwards. “Works for me,” she replied, and he promptly turned on his heels and strolled back to the stool that nobody had been brave enough to fill. “Men,” she grumbled, and shot a look to where Marilyn was sitting; the sight of the vampire filling the seat she’d left made her smile.
“Not all men,” she said with a one-shoulder shrug, and turned to the bar, her fingertips finally finding the wooden top like it was a lifesaver. She motioned to Jerry behind the bar, and the man nodded. He finished serving and turned his attention to her. “Rum and coke,” she said and shot a look down the bar to where Cain sat surveying the room like he was watching for something. “And send Happy whatever he’s having.”
Jerry grinned like that was a little joke between them, and they were kindred souls. She guessed Jerry had experienced Cain’s winning personality. A moment later and she was wrapping her hand around a rum and coke with lots of ice, just the way she liked it. She handed Jerry the money. “And whatever you’re having,” she said and smiled before turning back to dance floor.