CHAPTER ONE
Luna Lovett was a pathetic mess, but still, she was cute.
And Cole couldn’t help but adore her.
“I shouldn’t have eaten those pancakes after a whole bowl of cheese puffs.” She belched and muttered an apology. “My stomach hurts.”
“Never mind your abysmal eating habits. Is your dog wearing a Gucci backpack?” he asked.
She lifted her head enough to glance down at her Frenchie.
“Yes?” Apparently not seeing the problem with dressing her dog like a person, she dropped her head back onto the throw pillow, groaned, and covered her eyes with her bent arm. “Baxter needed a way to carry his toys and treats. I converted the mini bucket bag into a backpack. It makes him happy.”
Cole did his damnedest not to laugh. “Luna, don’t take this the wrong way, but there’s something wrong with you.”
“Coleman James Thorne, will you focus here?! I’m trying to tell you exactly what’s wrong with me. It’s my stomach.” She lifted her elbow just enough to fix him with a glare. “I think it’s in imminent danger of bursting. There will be cheesy pancake pieces scattered all over the wall, and I don’t know how you’ll explain it to the police.” With a dramatic sigh, she flopped her arms down on either side of her and squeezed her lids shut.
Cole dumped the bag containing antacids on the coffee table, tossed his keys next to it, and squatted beside her. He could magically heal her, but as a mortal, she didn’t know what he was. If she found out, she’d likely find a way to use his unique ability to continue her horrid dietary habits.
He patiently waited for her to open her eyes.
A metaphor for their entire relationship.
He’d been practically begging her to notice him for two whole years. Unfortunately, she’d shoved him so far into the friend zone that he couldn’t see the light of day. Oh, if only the Goddess weren’t opposed to witches using their gifts for personal gain!
“Luna.” He shook his head in resignation. “What in God’s name possessed you to eat breakfast at ten o’clock at night?”
“Depression.” A single tear trailed from the corner of her closed eye and disappeared into the hairline of her dark purple mane that Cole loved so much.
His chest constricted. “I figured as much when you called me to get you the heartburn supplies instead of Dick.”
“Rick.”
“Whatever.” He bumped her hip with his knuckles. “Scoot.”
She turned on her side and shifted back until her butt hit the sofa cushion.
Cole stroked the hair away from her face. “Want to talk about it?”
“No.”
“You’ll feel better if you do,” he coaxed.
“No, I won’t.”
“So you’re just going to sit at home and stew, making poor Baxter those Gucci backpacks? That’s not healthy.”
“Baxter needed the bag.”
“In pink? With a robot cat head?”
Luna lifted her head and frowned down at the small black dog. “You think pink isn’t a manly color?”
“I think if Baxter goes outside with a pink backpack, all the other dogs in the neighborhood will beat him up.”
“He’s secure in his manhood.”
“He’s been fixed. How secure can he be?”
If you wish to receive a notification when this book goes live, please CLICK HERE.
Return to Latent Magic
