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Twenty minutes later, Remmus’ jaw dropped to the floor when he got his first eye-full of the she-wolf’s ‘date look’. Ava was all dolled up and gingerly tugging at the hem of a short leather skirt.
Beside her, Cortana said something about man-eating and manipulation, then gave her several tips for working the crowd.
“Eyes up here, Raeth.” Snapping her fingers, Ava drew his gaze to hers. “You’ve heard of death by a thousand cuts? How about death by a thousand gerbil bites?”
Remmus hissed. “Ouch. Good thing I’m inked.”
“What does being inked have to do with it?”
“Hides the bite marks.”
He didn’t miss Ava’s frown, and he instantly knew he’d revealed something he shouldn’t have. Desperate to keep her mind off what he’d said, he playfully tugged up the hood of her jacket, gathering her cascading hair in front of her. Every muscle in her body locked.
“Put it down.”
He immediately did as she asked, taken aback by the seriousness in her voice. Remmus stared at her quizzically. “I didn’t meant to—”
“I know.” Abrasive, Ava shifted away from him. “I don’t like hoods.”
He gave her an apologetic grimace. “It’s raining out. Didn’t want you to get wet.”
Tension ebbed from her shoulders, and he was gifted a tight smile. “Sorry. Ghosts of the past and all that.”
“Don’t worry, Blondie.” He winked. “I can be your ghostbuster.”
“Is everything a joke to you?”
“Not everything. I take eating very seriously.”
A smile quirked on her lips that she made every attempt to hide. Remmus extended his hand to her. “Shall we?”
As soon as their hands interlocked, a tickle of electricity sparked between them and fluttered around his stomach. If Ava felt the same, she gave no indication before he sucked them into the ether and spit them out in downtown Denver. Since Remmus had never been to the bar they were heading to, he’d gone to the closest place he had a teleport lock: a five-star restaurant. No surprise there.
One taxi ride later, they arrived at the bar. “Okay, Ava. You play the leggy blonde with a chip on her shoulder. Go ahead and get into character.” Miming his hands as though they were a camera, he focused on her ‘close up.’ With absolutely no change in her posture, Remmus declared, “Perfect.”
Ava rolled her eyes for the thousandth time that evening.
It delighted him. “Even better. I like your craft, Ava. Now, I can either play the sexy bad boy or the dotting boyfriend.” He paused for her reaction: a glare. “No? How about both? Work with me, wolf.”
But she did not, in fact, work with him.
She took great pleasure in rebuffing his efforts even when he looped an arm around her waist like he’d been doing it for years. He basked in her warmth as he pulled her into his body.
As they strolled through the chilly parking lot, Remmus whispered, “I think I’ve figured you out.”
“Oh, have you?”
“A clanless Raeth stole your last bowl of Lucky Charms,” he said, “and you decided we weren’t magically delicious?”
“What can I say? Deliciousness is highly important in our line of work.”
Remmus hummed in contentment, when Ava leaned into him of her own accord before they stepped through the dingy bar door.
Neon lights were hung along masonry walls, haphazardly placed, and lacking any decorative instinct. What he could only assume were regulars were perched on barstools around a u-shaped counter, none of them looking up upon their entrance.
Remmus sobered, his attention spearing around the room. The smell of sweat, beer, and regret lingered. Beside him, Ava was doing a bang-up job of being the biker chick to his sexy bad boy. Her leather skirt, worn dangerously short, matched his jacket. Though it hadn’t been intentional—at least on his part—he appreciated the aesthetic.
They took a booth near the back.
