The Accidental Familiar (Accidentally Paranormal Series Book 14) (22 page)

Avis threw his head back, the weak sun glinting on his blond hair from the window beside their booth. “Hah! Touché, beautiful lady.” But when his eyes came back into focus, they were hard chips of ice. “What did he tell you?”

“Basically nothing other than you’d been hurt deeply.”

“Bah! At the time, and taking into account my age, yes, it was quite a drama, I’m sure. But it’s long since over.”

“No lingering feelings for your lost love?”

His lips wanted to show their disapproval, but Avis wouldn’t allow it. “All water under the bridge.”

His phone rang then, chiming out the familiar tune “Thank You For Being a Friend,” and he held up a finger to plead for a moment, the smile never leaving his face. “Of course, chap. I’m on it. Give me five, and I’ll be right there.” He clicked off his phone and smiled. “That was our man of the hour. I’m afraid I’ll have to cut this short. Shall I keep this meeting our little secret?”

Sipping her coffee, Poppy shook her head. “Nah. I don’t mind if you tell him. I don’t want you to be dishonest on my account.”
Not any more than you already are.

He swatted the table with a pair of gloves he’d pulled from his pocket. “Good show then. Lovely to have spent some quality time with you, Poppy. Let’s do this again soon? Maybe with Rick?”

Smiling, she bobbed her head. “Sure.”

He rose, sliding out of the booth with the grace of a cat. “Cheers!” he called, and then he was moving back between the booths toward the door.

Nina and Marty were in his side of the booth in two seconds flat, each looking at her with the big question on her face. “So?” Nina asked. “Is he a douche or is he a douche?”

Poppy wasn’t sure she could find the right words to express her feelings about Avis at this point, something she appeared to struggle with lately.

Marty reached across the table and grabbed Poppy’s wrist. “Poppy?”

Letting out a breath she didn’t even realize she was holding, she made a face. “He’s the biggest douche ever. As in, the douche of a lifetime.”

“And you’re sure, honey? I mean positive? This is his best friend since college.”

Nina flicked her fingers in Marty’s face. “Yeah, she’s sure, Fakey-Locks. Can’t you see the look on her face?”

Flattening her palm on the Formica table, wishing Avis’s face was beneath it, she agreed with Nina. “Yes, I’m surer than sure. He’s a scumbag, and I don’t know what he’s done, but he’s done something. It’s something dark and ugly and cruel.”

Marty tugged at her purple scarf, loosening the knot. “I just thought of something. Do you think he’s this aura January’s talking about? The one that’s attached to you?”

She hadn’t made that leap, but it made sense. Complete sense. “You think he’s jealous? Rick’s been familiar-less for a while now. Maybe he thinks I’m taking up too much of Rick’s time?”

“Maybe he needs his fancy British ass whooped?” Nina asked, pushing her sunglasses back on her nose.

“I think we need to talk to January before we do anything. If Avis is the aura, or whatever we’re calling that green and yellow cloud of toxic waste that came out of you last night, we need to be sure we handle this the right way,” Marty said.

“I think Marty’s right. So no ass whooping just yet. But the more I think about it, the more what Marty says works.”

“Then let’s go see a witch/doctor about a fuckhead,” Nina said.

Poppy would laugh if she weren’t so worried about telling Rick how she felt. She couldn’t just accuse Avis of something with no proof and expect Rick to believe she had a gut feeling she was right.

That was ridiculous.

On the other hand, this was one more thing off her plate.

Date with a dick achievement unlocked.

A
s she sat amidst boxes in her soon-to-be-former apartment, preparing to load them up and send them to storage, Rick slapped the last sealed box with a final grunt. “I think we got it all. Every single bobblehead known to man,” he teased with a grin.

“Bobbleheads give me life,” she defended, forcing her eyes from devouring him in his navy-blue sweater and black jeans.

His grin made her heart skip a beat. “I heard all about it as you gave direction on how much bubble wrap I should use to pack them properly.”

“Listen, you complain, but how would you feel if all those fancy vases in your fancy house ended up in little pieces? My bobblehead of Beyonce would never forgive me,” she joked.

Laughing, his eyes scanned the boxes piled high by her bathroom door. “You know, you don’t have to put this all in storage, Poppy. I have plenty of room at the house.”

Yeah, but there wouldn’t be any room left at the inn when she confessed her feelings about Avis. He’d want out, and after an unsuccessful attempt to reach January to get her council on whether Avis could be the entity, Poppy realized it didn’t really matter anyway.

She still thought Avis was up to no good, and if he wasn’t the aura, she still had to confess to Rick her bad feelings about him.

And as Calamity had warned, he wasn’t going to like that shit. She’d talked to the girls and Calamity about her suspicions, and while they agreed she had no proof, they also agreed honesty was the only way.

But she’d already made a decision after talking with January last night that would solve everything. She had to tell him how she felt and she had to do it soon. Letting another day go by with him thinking she was sticking around after the date for their deal was up was wrong. He was officially off the hook after Halloween.

Looking out the window at a slew of moving vans, loading up box after box for her neighbors, every last one of them virtually skipping out the door, smiling and laughing, she closed her eyes to keep from crying.

Was no one even a little upset? Was Arnie not at all distressed that he’d probably never have another chess game with Mrs. Bernbaum? Did Leona really want to go to a strange country all by herself just because she loved empanadas and had learned two phrases in Spanish?

But as she watched them, their eyes gleaming, their faces bright, she couldn’t deny no one appeared to care.

Blowing out a breath, Poppy plunked down on her couch and grabbed a stray pillow, resting her cheek on it. When she’d walked into the building after her meeting with Avis, prepared to pack up her things for the last time, she’d had that same feeling of desolation she’d had when she’d been here the other day.

What?
What did it mean? January had said not to ignore her intuition, but she’d also told her to examine her feelings and their possible magnification.

Was she magnifying this feeling of dread? Were all the things she’d experienced since this had happened compounded by the strangeness of her new world?

Rick dropped down next to her and asked, “You okay? I know this is an emotional day for you, Poppy, but I promise everything’s going to be okay.”

“Thanks for helping me pack. You didn’t have to. I know you’re busy.”

He ran a finger down the length of her nose. “It’s the least I can do in light of the fact that I’m stealing your apartment right out from under you.”

“I need to talk to you about a couple of things.”

He smiled his devastatingly handsome smile. “All ears.”

“Listen, Rick… I can’t be your familiar.”

His eyebrow rose. “Um, you didn’t even give it the full seven days. You’re giving up already,
señorita
?” he teased, using his index finger to playfully poke her shoulder.

“I’m going to hit you with some honesty. Like brutal honesty. You ready?”

Leaning back, Rick nodded, crossing his arms over his chest. “Sure,” he replied with a stiff tone—one she sensed would become defensive when he heard what she had to say.

“I like you. Once I got past your very unwelcoming response to my arrival, you turned out to be an okay guy.” She bit the inside of her cheek to ward off the humiliation of this conversation.

“But?”

“But. I…” She sighed, letting her head hang to her chest. Honesty was the best policy. No room and board was worth this kind of dilemma. So she leaned back, too, and looked him square in the eye. “But I like you too much.”

He rolled his tongue in his cheek. “Can you ever like a person too much?”

“You can when you’re supposed to be their advisor, but you’re thinking very un-biblical thoughts about them. Or maybe they are biblical. I’m not sure. I just know, they’re a little unsanitary.” She bit her lip on her last words and winced, waiting for his reaction.

And Rick said nothing. Absolutely nothing. Which might have hurt her ego had she not already decided he probably didn’t feel the same way. Surely, with all this connectivity between them, she would have felt something if he had.

For all his teasing and flirting, he wasn’t into her like that, and that was okay. There’d been plenty of guys who hadn’t been into her when she was into them.

She’d live. She didn’t like that she would right now, but as a rational adult, she knew that would pass, and while she’d probably always be attracted to Rick, she could handle it if the only time she had to see him was over a bubbling cauldron at the witches and warlocks annual gala.

As he was about to speak, Poppy held up a hand—a cautious hand, because her hands were pretty good at creating mayhem these days. “Just let me do this without interruption. I think we both know familiars and their assignments can’t possibly work if one of them is having feelings that aren’t familiar-ish. How can I, as your familiar, advise you in relationships if I’m thinking…er, impure thoughts? Think about how crazy awkward that would be. Every time you had a date, me all pouty and jealous of the other women in your life? That’s not going to work for me. I don’t do jealous. It’s an ugly emotion I have no time for.”

He grunted, but he still didn’t say a word. Opening his mouth, he frowned when nothing came out. Which was indeed odd. Using his finger, he pointed at the interior of his mouth.

Now Poppy frowned, confused. “Laryngitis? Does laryngitis happen that quickly? You were just talking a minute ago.”

Rick’s eyes were confused, too, when he lifted his wide shoulders in an “I don’t know” way.

She flapped a hand at him. “It’s just as well. I only need you to listen anyway. Just know that you’re a good guy, and magic and your warlock legacy can be good things, too. If you let them, anyway. The nutbag warlock who killed your mother was an evil piece of shit and just one bad guy in a sea of a million good guys. Don’t give up the ship.”

He shook his head, his lips now clamped bizarrely shut. He pointed to them in a gesture she didn’t understand, using his eyes to attempt to communicate something.

So she cocked her head at him and patted his thickly muscled leg. “I get it. A sudden onslaught of laryngitis. Please just let me finish; I’m doing this for you. Because it’s the right thing to do. Because it’s unhealthy to stick around and play at advising you when I don’t want to advise you. I don’t know if I
always
won’t want to advise you, but for now, I don’t. I want to…uh, do things with you. I tried. I really tried. I ignored my attraction to you. I plodded forward, but I’d be a shitty person if I didn’t own my stuff. So just let me own my stuff.”

“Mmmm!” he managed, his eyes even wider when they caught hers.

Poppy nodded her head and swallowed the lump forming in her throat. “Yeah. Mmmm. Anyway, I hope your next familiar works out. I hope you really give whoever it is a genuine shot. Don’t be an asshole next time around. Not everyone’s as forgiving as me. Not everyone’s as desperate as me, either. All I heard was room and board. Your next familiar might own a palace and tell you to go shit yourself, buddy. Keep that in mind when he or she arrives—”

In a swift move, Rick stopped her ramble by gripping her shoulders and driving his lips against hers, effectively shutting her up.

And boy, did he know how to shut a girl up. As his lips touched hers for the first time, Poppy sighed, and when his tongue slipped between her lips, she saw stars and colors and vivid images of her beneath Rick, naked and needy.

Pulling away, he gazed at her, a question in his dark eyes. She knew what he was asking—if he had her permission to continue.

But there was no question about this for her. No matter the outcome, she wanted Rick to make love to her. Call it impulsive, because they’d only just met, call it crazy, but everything about his body so close to hers felt right. She’d deal with the repercussions later.

So in response, she kissed him again, melting into his hard frame, running her hands along his arms, relishing the muscle beneath her fingertips.

He groaned, reaching for the top of her shirt, popping the buttons until her bra was exposed. Rick brushed his fingers over the swell of flesh, making her nipples harden to tight peaks as he unhooked the front clasp of her bra.

As her breasts spilled out and his thumbs brushed against her skin, Poppy moaned, too, wrapping her arms around his neck until they were pressed together tight.

And then their hands were roaming, exploring, undressing until they were both naked. Poppy forced her eyes open so she wouldn’t miss seeing every inch of his rippling body.

His shoulders were broad, his olive skin stretched tight over sinew, dipping inward, then bulging out. Her fingers traced the ridge of each of his abs, luxuriating in his moan as he pushed her back to the couch and slid his hand between her thighs, running his tongue over her neck, nipping at her earlobe.

When he grazed her clit, Poppy’s eyes rolled to the back of her head, the pleasure so exquisite. Her hands reached for his cock, hard, thick, hot with desire, stroking him until he wrapped his fingers around her wrist and stilled her.

Sliding along her body, he wrapped his arms around her waist, slashing his hot tongue over her breast, bringing her nipples to hard nubs, making her cry out and drive her hands into his thick hair.

Heat pooled between her thighs, wet and slick, and she knew she had to have him inside her now. Forget the foreplay, forget the pretense, she just wanted him to bury himself in her depths.

Just as he was kissing his way down along her belly, she dragged him upward and looked him in the eye, lifting her hips and encouraging him to drive into her.