we do. Thanks for trusting me. This spell will work, Kelyn. I promise that.”
He nodded. “I’ll pick you up tomorrow a couple hours before the flight.”
“See you then. Thanks!”
As the Firebird rolled away, Valor had to stop herself from giving a little wave in its wake. Like hey, yeah, that was fun. Just spending time with the guy had been fun. And watching him ride the deer? She had to tell her friends about that one.
With a sigh, she wandered toward her building. The feeling that she should have leaned over and kissed him in thanks for the adventure was strong. A missed opportunity. Generally, she was a take-life-by-the-horns-and-ride-it kind of chick.
She knew why she was skittish around Kelyn. Same reason she’d given up on ever finding love. Men didn’t consider her a woman. She simply wasn’t...
“A real girl,” she said, and followed that with another heart-clenching sigh.
Had she been able to accomplish the spell that night in the Darkwood, would she be singing a different tune now?
Could Kelyn ever see her as a woman?
Because she wanted to kiss him again. No, she needed to.
Valor sat up on the couch, blew the tangled hair from her face and...dropped back into a dead sleep, falling forward to land her face against the hardwood arm. That woke her up again. And this time she heard the pounding and insistent knock at her door.
“Valor?”
Sounded like Kelyn’s voice. Why was he at her home...she glanced toward the windows...in the middle of the night?
Her eyelids fluttered and she dropped into sleep again, this time her head falling to the side and hitting the soft leather back of the couch.
A rude meow sounded and she shook out of sleep. “No. Need to sleep. Have...flight...in morning, Mooshi.”
“Valor, are you ready to go?” Kelyn called from the other side of her front door.
“Go?” She glanced toward the kitchen, seeing beyond the row of beer bottles and that one empty vodka bottle—curse her weakness for the hard stuff—where the time flashed in bright green LEDs on the stove. “Marcus Welby! It’s time!”
She dragged herself off the couch and scrambled to the door, opening it. Kelyn breezed in.
“We’ve got to go,” he said. “The flight leaves in an hour and a half, and it takes forty-five minutes to get to the airport. What the—are you not ready to go?” He reached for her head, and though Valor dodged his touch, he managed to snag his fingers in her hair. And that was possible because of the tangles. “You’re wearing the same clothes as yesterday. And...you smell like a brewery.”
“Yeah? Well, I do work at a brewery, smart guy.”
“Not yesterday.”
“Fine! I couldn’t sleep,” she muttered, her tongue still heavy with sleep and the remnants of a good drunk. Hell, the drunk was still with her, bless the goddess. Because it was a necessity. “I hate flying, and I’m always nervous the night before. I haven’t slept. And yet...I think I must have fallen asleep, like, half an hour ago. I am so wasted.”
He caught her in his arms and held her upright. “You drink to relax?”
“Beer usually calms me. Vodka seemed to take off the edge.”
“Couldn’t you have cast a spell or something? Valor, we’ve got to go. You have your bags packed?”
She gestured toward the door, where one small carry-on backpack waited. She’d had the forethought to pack after Kelyn dropped her off last night when she wasn’t so nervous. Now all she wanted to do was sleep.
“The flight is long. You can sleep when we get seated.” He bent and suddenly Valor found herself flung over the man’s broad and reassuringly strong shoulder.
A humiliating position, and yet... Nah, she could go with it. Especially since...
Kelyn chuckled at the witch’s sudden snores. He grabbed her backpack and with a glance to the cat decided Valor had to have made arrangements for its care in her absence. Probably a neighbor would stop by. He slid the door closed behind him.
What a way to begin an adventure.
* * *
Kelyn accepted an offer of ice water from the stewardess and refused another white wine for his guest. They’d been in the air four hours, and Valor could snore with the best of them. She did not do sleep deprivation well. But if she had been nervous about flying, then it was good she was sleeping now. She’d managed to lift her head once while they were waiting to board, smiled at him and then her head had hit his shoulder.
And he was enjoying it. Because right now her head lay on his shoulder, and her hand had strayed to his chest. One finger touched his skin at the base of his neck. It was weirdly intimate, and yet not. She was just a friend. And he did mark her as a sort-of friend, not an enemy. They were working toward a common goal.
But he was seriously beginning to feel the old attraction to her again. Not that it had ever gone away. Losing his wings had honestly reduced his interest in her. But the chick was not like the rest of the women he had known or lusted after. She wasn’t fussy or high maintenance. He couldn’t imagine any woman he’d known allowing him to carry her into the airport, hair uncombed and T-shirt wrinkled, after a sleepless night on a bender.
Valor Hearst didn’t do the makeup and hair thing. Her long straight hair had a deep violet tint to it. Had to be dyed. He wasn’t sure if witches could have a natural color like that. His sister, Daisy Blu’s, hair was pink, but that was natural from her faery heritage.
Valor dressed as if she was ready to hop on a Harley and ride off into the sunset. Everything about her was casual confidence and gotcha smirks. One of the guys.
But the thing that had sealed his attraction to her a few years ago? It had been one night around a bonfire when a bunch of friends had gathered at a city summer festival. Beer and s’mores had been in abundance, as well as lawn darts and cheap sparklers. Valor had been pointed out to him as one of the witches who owned a local brewery. He’d thought she was pretty in that one-of-the-guys kind of way. Because she had an ease around people and wasn’t always fluffing her hair or checking her cell phone for texts from girlfriends. He hadn’t given her too much eye time. Until she’d laughed. It had come out as an abrupt burst of sound and ended with a snort. Ignoring what anyone thought of her and proud to be herself.
Ever since, he’d spent more time looking at her. And wanting to ask her out so he could hear that crazy, obnoxious laugh again. And wondering how she’d be as a kisser. Damn good, now that he knew. But he wished it hadn’t been because she’d thought she was dying that he’d gotten that kiss.
And now he still couldn’t stop looking at her and allowing his fantasies to take hold.
Valor’s lips were
