Outside and heading at a swift clip toward the gate, Sam didn’t dare glance back. “Seriously, Cait?” he huffed. “You had to steal her pride and joy?”
“It’s not like I’m going to pluck its wings,” she groused.
Relief had him slowing his steps. Good Lord. He’d been worrying about a bug?
“Trying to return it will be troublesome,” Cait said softly.
Sam gave her waist a squeeze. “I’ll have a uniform drop it by. Say it was found by a concerned citizen.”
Cait laughed and glanced up from beneath her lashes. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so nervous. All that talk about weddings had you sweating.”
“I wasn’t nervous,” he said, his voice gruff. “Just in a hurry.”
“Sure you were.”
He helped her into the car, handing her the cup to hold while he backed out of the driveway. The trip to Celeste’s took a good thirty minutes due to drivers heading home from work.
The moment they pulled up, Celeste turned the CLOSED sign in the window. “I have da ingredients prepared. You have da butterfly?”
“The rarest I could find,” Cait said, holding up the cup. “Endangered, even.”
Celeste clucked her tongue. “Will make a powerful spell. Shall I steep da wings in boilin’ water?”
“No!” both he and Cait shouted. They shared a sheepish glance.
“Um, all I need are scales,” Cait said, reaching up to tug the rubber band from her hair. “Not so much he won’t be able to fly. He’s a living creature. Wouldn’t want to anger a goddess at this point.”
“Uh-huh,” Celeste said, eyeing them both. “It’s a bug. Not a metaphor for your love life.”
Sam’s jaw sagged.
“Who you t’ink gave her da idea to pretend ta be a bride? Not the first idea dat came to her mind. She wanted ta be a collector.”
Cait’s cheeks burned as she hugged the Styrofoam against her chest. “We’ll take everything home with us. I’ll mix it when the moon’s full. It’ll give the ink a little extra punch.”
Celeste eyed her doubtfully. “You don’ need help?”
“This one I can manage. It’s something I helped my mother make. I remember everything.”
Celeste gave her a grave nod. “Let me bottle up da steeped saffron. Be right back.”
Sam waited until Celeste disappeared and then grabbed her wrist to pull her close. “You were pretty convincing back there,” he drawled, looking down into her wide green eyes.
Cait sniffed. “I’ve watched Bridesmaids. I know the secret code.”
He gave an exaggerated shiver. “I’m glad you’re not really like that. Your act was kind of scary.”
Her soft grunt was pure Cait. “Scarier than me going ninja on a demon’s ass?”
“Uh, I get your point.”
A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth, and then spread wide. Her fingers walked up the buttons of his shirt. “Do you know your voice was higher when you were calling me ‘honey’?”
“Felt like my balls were in a vise,” he growled. “But it was kind of fun. You can play a giddy bride to my whipped fiancé anytime,” he said, knowing he flirted with danger but unable to resist this playful side of Cait.
“You were pretty convincing yourself, Detective. Maybe you should consider undercover work.”
“Huh” came a soft huff beside them.
Sam raised his head to find Celeste standing there, her dark brows raised high. “Now I know why you’re bot’ so eager ta get home.”
Cait laughed and pulled from his embrace.
“Saffron and gum arabic are in da bag,” Celeste said, handing her a small hemp sack with the drawstring loosened. “And som’tin’ for when you two are alone.” Her full bottom lip pushed out. Amusement gleamed in her large dark eyes.
Cait’s gaze widened, and she peeked into the bag. “An apple?”
“A golden apple. You so fond of Greek goddesses, you ask Aphrodite for her blessings.” Her chin pointed toward Sam. “Den have him take a bite.”
Cait whispered back harshly, “I don’t need that kind of help. And we don’t need to be discussing it with him standing right there.” She jerked a thumb over her shoulder.
“Sure you do. He’s already mad for you, chère,” she said, tapping her finger under Cait’s chin. “But it never hurts ta give him anot’er nudge.” Celeste winked then went to the window to turn her sign.
At the car, Sam glanced back at the shop just as a customer entered. “Why is the store always empty when we go there?”
“Guess it must be magic,” Cait drawled as she slid into the vehicle.
Sam closed his own door and then shot a glance her way. “Do I have to ask about the apple?”
“It’s yellow. Not gold.”
He arched a brow. “And?”
“Do you know who Aphrodite was?”
Sam shrugged as he pulled into traffic. “Some Greek goddess? Was she the warrior?”
“Nope.” But her sigh was one of pure relief.
Sam made a note to Google Aphrodite and golden apples. “She’s right, you know,” he said, watching her from the corner of his eye. “I am mad for you, Cait.”
Her chest rose around a deep inhalation. Sam had said he loved her a few times, usually when they thought they were about to die or he was sated with sex. She deserved better from him. “You heard that?”
“She wasn’t whispering,” he said, giving her a wry smile.
“Hmm.” Cait turned away and fisted her hand at her side. “Yes,” came a quiet, but emphatic hiss.
Sam couldn’t help the deep chuckle or the urge to reach across the seat and capture her hand. Without saying another word, he drove on.
Her stomach growled. “Think we can drop the bag and the butterfly at my apartment and grab a bite? Morin forgot to feed me.”
“Have to wait for the full moon anyway, right?” Sam flipped the turn signal. “Sure. O’Malley’s?”
“We’ll kill two birds. We need to catch up with Jason.”
Sam nodded, then realized it was the first time the mention of O’Malley’s didn’t make his stomach tighten in rejection. So, the place was a bar. They served booze. But so far, Cait had held strong. He wondered if she still felt the urge to drown the voices with a bottle, but was afraid to ask in case the question got her thinking he wasn’t ready to start trusting her.
Morin’s words came back to him. His hands tightened on the steering wheel. He was sure Morin hadn’t mentioned his trust issues because he wanted to help their relationship. But the mention did get Sam thinking that maybe it was time he tried a little harder.
Or was he holding on to his distrust for another reason? Did he want an excuse to guard himself against the pain if they didn’t work out?
Sam didn’t like to think he was a coward. But the last time they’d broken up, he’d been driven to his knees with sorrow and anger. That was before he’d learned she had reasons for hitting the bottle in the first place, although she’d only mentioned one. The whispers of ever-present spirits couldn’t be the only thing she wanted to escape.
Sam slammed the car door closed and met Cait’s questioning glance across the top of the car. Pasting on a half-smile, he circled the car and held up his elbow. “Can’t have anyone thinking Miss Migelo didn’t land herself quite a catch.”
8
Cait entered O’Malley’s and drew in a deep breath through her nose. All the familiar scents assailed her, the most prominent being alcohol. How she loved this place. Loved the feeling that swept through her when she entered. Here, she felt safe. Cocooned from sorrow and her problems. There was always a smiling face to greet her, even if it was only Pauly happy to serve her a drink.
Pauly gave her a small wave, perhaps holding his enthusiasm because of Sam. He was well aware she’d “taken the pledge” since renewing her working and personal relationship with her ex.
And Sam wasn’t a fan. Too many times he’d lit a fire under Pauly’s ass for continuing to serve Cait past the point she could walk a straight line out the door. Not that Pauly was to blame. She’d liked getting shit-faced. She was a grown woman and had made her own choices. Or so she’d said.