Page 26 of Buckle Up, Buttercup

Dipping down, I slide my left arm around the backs of her legs and lift her up to my shoulder. She’s bitty enough to fit nestled right there, her right hip up against my head.

I glance up at her. “When I take off, it’ll be a slight up and down movement.”

“Just don’t drop me,” she demands.

Her tone has the quietly dominant side of my nature rising hot and heavy. It’s a side that doesn’t come out that much since I don’t casually date. But being in close proximity to her since I moved back has it rearing its head more and more. This is going to become a problem. My pull to her is becoming a problem.

And I don’t know how much I care.

When I flap my wings and push lightly off the ground, she wobbles and yips on my shoulder. I clutch her knee tightly, but she grabs my left horn and grips it hard.

I choke back a groan at feeling her tiny, warm fingers on the sensitive length of my horn. But she must be more worried about falling, because she hangs on for dear life as I flap slowly and carefully up toward the beam. I focus on the destination, careful not to let her fall as I near the beam. Once there, I grab a beam with each wing tip and alight on the one “wearing” the belts.

“This close enough?”

Her face is right up near a visible crack in the ceiling. While it doesn’t rain often in Pine Gulch, the ceiling crack could let in critters and moisture, none of which are good for the building or her wares.

She leans forward. “Hang on to me so I don’t fall, ‘kay?”

Reaching up, I grip her waist as she shifts forward and upright, lifting her hands to the ceiling. The move exposes several inches of her belly beneath my fingers. Her skin is soft and warm, and this close, she smells of something tangy and rich like citrus and chocolate. I breathe her quietly in as she presses both palms to the ceiling.

The Bodice shudders but remains quiet.

I’ve had the privilege of watching Bluebell’s brothers and mother use their green magic many times over the years—growing plants, healing injured or infected plants, pushing strength into the ground.

But black magic? I’ve rarely witnessed Bluebell use hers.

Dark sparks flit from her fingertips and disappear into the air. She’s quiet on my shoulder, although the furrow between her brows is back. As I watch, the ceiling knits slowly together until all the wood connects like new. Bluebell remains quiet, black mist swirling around her fingertips as the beams shift and straighten slightly.

When she removes her hands, it’s impossible to tell where there was damage. The Bodice is silent as Bluebell folds her hands in her lap, eyeing her handiwork.

“Looks good,” I murmur as I stare at the spot she fixed. “Your magic is remarkable, Blueb⁠—”

The beam I’m on spins like it's in a log rolling competition, and I lurch forward. Bluebell flies off my shoulder and into space. I grapple for her as terror fills me. She spins in slow motion as she falls toward the ground. Clawing through the air, I reach for her as I dip a wing beneath her body. Her mouth is open, eyes wide as she stretches for me.

She hits my right wing with a thud, head falling back as her hair splays all over the bones. I flap with my left wing as I yank her close until she hits my chest. She’s breathing rapid-fire, heart thudding like a machine gun as pink tinges her cheeks. We’re breathing the same air, my mouth close to hers and her body tucked tightly against mine.

Pert, small breasts are pressed to my upper chest. My eyes drift to her open mouth and that pink, soft-looking tongue. Those navy-blue lips are tinted a shade darker by her favorite berry-flavored lip gloss.

“Holy shit,” she breathes, wrapping her arms around my neck and pulling me even closer until my face is pressed to her neck and shoulder. “Thank you.” It’s a whisper as she starts trembling, thin arms around me and face against mine.

I slide both arms around her body and hold her close, moving my tail up to wrap around her waist. I’m holding her steady with every possible appendage, willing her to know that I will never let her fall.

“I’ve got you,” I whisper into her neck. “That was frightening, Bluebell.”

“No shit,” she murmurs back. “I didn’t think she’d really hurt me.”

I lift my head, staring deep into those turquoise eyes, so bright they’re nearly iridescent. “You’re not allowed up on that ladder without me, okay? It’s not safe.”

Her eyes drop to my mouth, her blush growing. Her scent deepens, and I soak it in, flaring my nostrils as I drop my mouth closer to hers. I want to kiss her. In that moment, nothing is clearer to me than that desire. Every inch of my body is focused on her, on calming her, on protecting her, on infusing my scent into her pores so she never smells like Bluebell again.

I want her to smell like us.

I’m shocked the Bodice tossed Bluebell right into my arms, but when I really think about it…what if she wasn’t trying to knock Bluebell down? What if she was just trying to push us together? I don’t know why the building would do that or even care, but my senses ping.

There’s more to this story. I just need to figure out what it is.

Bluebell