WILLEM (The Witches of Wimberley Book 1) Read online

  “Thirteen.”

  “Twelve. Did you like it?”

  “Not really.”

  “Yeah.” I chuckled. “Awkward.”

  “Extremely. And don’t start asking about other things along those lines. Some things are private, even from you, Will.”

  “Noooooo. I’m to be your lord and master. You will do as I say.” She looked at me strangely. “That was a joke, Rave. I don’t expect that you’d ever do what I say even if I was dumb enough to give you an order.”

  “Okay.”

  “Seriously. You can keep that stuff to yourself. I was kidding.”

  “Good,” she said as she bit down on a piece of bacon. “I’m glad we understand each other. So when was your first coitus and who was it with?”

  My eyes jerked from the hunk of gingerbread I was holding, to her face. Her eyes were dancing. “I have a better question. Are you ticklish?” She pressed her lips together and shook her head a little too emphatically. “Ooh. I just learned two things. You are ticklish and you’re also a terrible liar. Good. To. Know.”

  I stood and moved toward her with fingers wiggling. She jumped up and began walking backwards. “No, Will, really. I…”

  She feinted left, but though I hadn’t revealed it, I also played basketball. So I was ready for her. She ran right into my arms. I was not merciless. After all, I’d known her for less than twenty-four hours. Merciless tickling required history and trust. Sometimes, as my sisters had taught me, there were elements of head bonking with nearby objects that resulted in needing ice packs.

  I turned her to face me. “I didn’t get a good morning kiss.” Without further preamble, she proceeded to kiss me stupid. “Have I told you I like your lips?”

  “No.” She smiled. “What else?”

  “What else what?”

  “What else do you like about me?”

  “You mean besides flawless beauty? I like your laugh. I like that you’re so easy to talk to. I like the way your eyes dance when you’re having fun. And I like your Eggs Benedict.”

  “That was a good starter list, Will. You want to finish breakfast?”

  “Hell, yeah. There’s stuff all over that table still calling my name. I just took intermission for tickling.”

  I slid my arm over her shoulder as we walked back. It was familiar. It was affectionate. It was also strange, not the sort of thing I do with women, but it felt natural. And good.

  “This gingerbread is getting cold! What kind of household are you managing here?” I chided with enough tease in my voice so she’d know for sure that I was not serious.

  Angie appeared at the table within seconds.

  “Angie,” Rave said, “could you heat up the gingerbread for Mr. Draiocht?”

  “Certainly. So glad you like it, sir.”

  She took the gingerbread basket and hurried away while I sat with my mouth hanging open.

  “I wasn’t serious.”

  “Oh, I know. But gingerbread is best when the butter melts on it. And Angie doesn’t mind.”

  “How do you know?”

  “When she comes back, ask her and look real closely for any signs that she might be shaving the truth.”

  “You’re on, mistress of the house.”

  While waiting, I scooped up the last bite of incredible Eggs Benedict, polished off the bacon, and gulped orange juice.

  “You’ve got an appetite, Will. I may have to put a weight maintenance spell on you. With your permission, of course.”

  I stared. “You’re saying you can put a spell on me that would allow me to eat anything I want, as much as I want, and not gain weight?” She nodded with a secretive little smile. I reached down and rubbed my hand over my bulging tummy. “Can you make me look shredded without having to work out?”

  She laughed. “No. Some things are beyond me. If you want to be lickable, you’re still going to have to hit the machines. Oh. I didn’t show you the gym. It’s upstairs on the right side of the hall. Got everything you could want and a nice media center, too.”

  “Lickable?”

  She giggled. “Is that all you heard?”

  “Yes. Blah blah blah. LICKABLE! Blah blah blah. Now you know. That’s one of the words that’s a cock tease.”

  “Oh? What are the others?”

  “We’ll come to that later. Were you popular in school or studious or what? Lots of acquaintances or a few good friends?”

  “I was kind of popular, I guess.”

  Looking down my nose, I said, “What’s ‘kind of’? Were you a cheerleader?”

  “Yes.”

  “Did you use magic?”

  “No.” She did a crazy eyes thing that looked like she was indignant at the question.

  “Okay. Okay. Just asking. Were you prom queen?”

  “No. I was senior class president though.”

  Angie arrived with warm gingerbread and set it down with a smile.

  Watching her carefully I asked, “Angie, don’t you really think I should get up and bring the gingerbread in the kitchen if I want it heated up?”

  “Good lands no, sir. That’s my job, isn’t it?”

  “Maybe.”

  “No maybe about it. I see to the people in this house. That used to be Ms. Ravish, but now it’s you, too.”

  “You call her Ms. Ravish?”

  “With her permission.”

  “Why don’t you call me Will?”

  “Mr. Will.”

  “No. Just Will.” She looked at Rave, who nodded at her. “Very well, sir. But it don’t really seem right calling you by your nickname.”

  “Okay. You can call me Willem. But just you. Nobody else.”

  She looked delighted at the prospect of being the only one allowed to call me Willem.

  “Very well, sir.”

  When she left and closed the door behind her, I said, “So you were one of the unattainable sex icons who prowl the halls of high schools everywhere, never deigning to so much as cast a glance toward poor adoring souls such as myself.”

  “Wow, Will. That was practically a soliloquy. You would have been a fine actor.”

  “What does math/science girl know about soliloquys?”

  “I named my favorite subjects. That doesn’t mean that I didn’t learn anything else.”

  “Oh, well, see? When I say I liked social studies and stories. I do mean I didn’t learn anything else.”

  She laughed. “What about you? Social or kept to yourself?”

  “Few good friends. Not the party crowd. Not the jocks. Not the elite-by-virtue-of-daddy’s-money circle. Maybe I was a nerd.”

  “Nerds don’t play sports.”

  “Hmmm. Maybe I defy description. I had a few good friends. I could get dates when I wanted. No complaints really. How old were you when you got your first car?”

  “Fourteen.”

  I laughed. “No. Really.”

  “Really. I got a hardship license.”

  “You did? What was the hardship?”

  She sat back and bit into a peach. “It would have been too hard to not be able to drive when I was ready to drive.”

  I narrowed my eyes at her. “Did you just say that?”

  She laughed. “I did.”

  “And the Department of Motor Vehicles bought that?”

  “Well, we didn’t use the usual channels.”

  “Are you used to getting whatever you want, Rave?”

  Looking straight at me, she took another bite out of the peach. “Hmmm.” She nodded.

  “So you’re spoiled.”

  “I don’t believe in being spoiled. I think that everybody should be able to enjoy everything they can using the talents they were given. So long as they give back,” she added.

  “That’s an interesting point of view. What’s giving back mean to you?”

  “Well, I got a car when I was fourteen, but I used it to take schoolwork to kids who were home sick. I also gave rides to people who needed to go to the doctor and stuff.”


  That did sort of put things in a different light. “So you’re a saint disguised as a witch living in the lap of wealth and decadence.”

  Her mouth dropped open. “There’s nothing decadent about the way I live. How dare you?”

  I laughed. “Okay. If you say so.”

  “When did you start driving?”

  “Sixteen. Like normal people.” She smirked. “My granddad gave me a hand-me-down car when I was sixteen. I think it had two hundred and thirty thousand miles on it. Old sedan painted a color that we called granddad green. It didn’t turn the heads of any girls, I promise you, but it got me around and was better than a bicycle.”

  “So you went to college at Alabama State?”

  “For a while. I’m kinda sorry I didn’t finish now.”

  “Did you go for higher education?”

  “University of Texas. I know. I know. It’s close to home, but there’s not a better school anywhere in the world.”

  “Finish?”

  “Yes,” she said carefully.

  “Oh my God. You finished with honors, didn’t you?” She looked embarrassed. “Ravish, what in the world do you want with a loser like me?”

  Her eyes flashed. “You’re not a loser, Will. You just haven’t settled into your stride yet.”

  Something about the way she became suddenly defensive of me, even if she was defending me from myself, caused a little flutter in my six pack, that I was going to need to maintain myself if I wanted to be lickable. And I definitely wanted to be lickable. I could see myself becoming addicted to her protectiveness. And I could see this being the best year of my life.

  What I couldn’t see was beyond that. Forever was an abstract I couldn’t manage to grasp. So I made a vow to enjoy every day, one at a time.

  “So you decided to pursue acting?”

  “Yeah. For ten years. It didn’t work out. What did you study in school?”

  “Geology.”

  “You did not.”

  “I did.”

  “Why?”

  “I got interested in the limestone ledges, the layers I could see from the river when I was a kid. Of course all the fossils and dinosaur tracks around here were pretty fascinating, too.”

  “What do you do with your degree?”

  “I keep an eye on things around here. Make sure that modernity isn’t interfering with what’s best for Mother Nature.”

  “How do you make sure of that?” She didn’t answer, but her eyes sparkled. “Okay. Maybe I’m not ready to know that yet.”

  “We can’t protect the world, but we can protect this little corner of it.”

  “So what’s a typical day like for you?”

  “If we don’t have any meetings,” she rolled her eyes, “I test water samples and make sure that nobody is dumping anything upstream that shouldn’t go into a river. I ride up into the hills and make sure that there aren’t any yahoos tearing up the land with SUVS or motorbikes, causing erosion, or doing something abominable like chasing jackrabbits until their little hearts burst.”

  I pushed back from the table, crossed an ankle over a knee and looked at her. “People do that?”

  The tiniest wrinkle appeared between her brows when she frowned. “Yes. People do that.”

  “So you’re like the rabbit sheriff around these parts.”

  She smiled. “I could do worse than a title like that.” I crossed my arms over my chest and felt pretty good about myself, until she said, “And what is your typical day going to look like?”

  “One day I was an actor with a routine that involved an agent, auditions, and bartending. The next day I gave up acting and was on a plane for Wimberley, not sure why I was coming here or what I would get out of it.” I looked at her, letting her see my appreciation full force. “I never expected you.”

  “Why, Will,” she looked delighted, “that was a nice thing you just said.”

  I looked away, not wanting to get too mushy. “So I don’t have a typical anything right now.”

  “Let me rephrase the question. What would you like your typical day to be?”

  “In bed with you calling me the lord and master of sex?”

  She gave me the full sexy laugh treatment, which meant I needed to adjust my pants. “Besides that.”

  “Since you didn’t say no, I’m going to take that to mean that lots of time in bed with you calling me the lord and master of sex is a distinct possibility.”

  “I don’t know about ‘lots’, but there’s some flexibility in my schedule. Lord and master of sex is a pretty serious title. I’m going to expect you to earn it.”

  “I accept the challenge. Do we get a honeymoon?”

  “You mean away from here? After our first year.”

  “Okay. How much time can we have alone in the house with nobody ringing doorbells or expecting you to be somewhere?”

  “Will, I think you’re a little bit romantic.”

  “Think what you like. They call it horny where I come from.”

  “The answer is yes. We can have a day to ourselves. No interruptions.”

  “I need to go to Austin.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I’m pretty sure there aren’t enough condoms in this town.”

  “Doesn’t matter. You’re not going to need them.”

  “No?”

  “No. We’re both clean and I’m not getting pregnant unless I want to.”

  “You just made it even harder to wait for tonight. You sure we can’t sneak a preview. Like right now?”

  “Yes. I’m sure. Back on topic. What do you want to do? You want to go back to school? We can get you into U.T. If you don’t want to study anything but myths and paranormal, they can put together an ad hoc degree tailor made for you.”

  The idea of going back to school to learn what I wanted to learn without the other crap had me salivating.

  “Would it hurt anybody? Would I be taking something away from somebody more deserving?”

  “No, Will. The amount of money we donate to that school every year is astronomical. We practically make up for the oil shortfall and we don’t ask for much in return. When an opportunity presents itself to repay us, they’re more than happy to make an accommodation. You could start in January. Fall’s already underway. But you could spend the time planning your degree. You could also get access to a whole bunch of stuff that might not have been available before.”

  “That’s a pretty astounding offer.”

  “There’s just one thing.”

  “What is it?”

  “You can’t tell people about us. I mean apart from the obvious. You can’t tell people that there are real witches living in Wimberley.”

  “Betray you?” I started shaking my head. “No. I wouldn’t.”

  “Good to hear. Good to know.”

  “So what would you like to do until it’s time for your induction?”

  “Induction?”

  “Oh, that’s what they call the thing the guys do before the ceremony. Don’t get all excited thinking they’re going to have strippers. The last guy who tried to sneak one in got caught by his wife and ended up spending the next year as a frog.”

  I dropped my chin and looked at her. “Is that witch humor? I mean, you’re not serious?”

  “Don’t worry, Will. I’m not the excitable sort. I wouldn’t make you live as a frog longer than a fortnight.”

  “That would be funnier if I was one hundred percent positive that you couldn’t do it. Or wouldn’t.”

  She laughed, which was not especially comforting.

  What was I getting myself into?

  “You want to go out for a drive? See some of the local scenery?”

  “Sure.” I got to my feet thinking that would be the perfect thing to get my mind off Wicker Man and frogs.

  We headed to the garage where I’d seen her Jeep Wrangler 4x4 the night before. It was gorgeous and polished to a sheen.

  “This color is really something.”

  “Fir
e red metal flake. It looks like the fiberglass dune buggies used to, doesn’t it?”

  Honestly I couldn’t say. “Doesn’t look like it’s seen much mud.”

  “Oh, it’s seen incredible mud. But it’s also seen Ed on a daily basis. He keeps it looking like this and I don’t make that easy for him. He even has a machine that cleans the undercarriage in the next bay over.”

  “That’s impressive.”

  “Yes. Life is good.” She pulled herself up into the Jeep, which was open, the canvas top set aside in the garage, opened the bay door and pulled out into the November sunshine.

  “Wow. If I thought this color was beautiful inside, that’s nothing compared to what it looks like out here with the light shining on it.”

  “Yeah. It’s pretty, huh?”

  “Understated. Extremely understated.”

  “I have to admit that I’m not big on understatement. I like red.”

  The gates opened as we approached. The attendant gave Ravish a friendly salute as we drove by.

  “Why do you need an attendant if you have magic?”

  “It’s just for show. We don’t like to flaunt the magic. ”

  “Oh.”

  We turned up into the hills away from town, with Rave downshifting expertly. We were still on a narrow, two lane paved road, but the ride was so bumpy, I couldn’t imagine what it felt like off road.

  “Hey,” she yelled over the wind noise. “Let’s go to Lookout Mountain. We’ll have to climb a lot of stairs, but we had a big breakfast, right?”

  Her enthusiasm was so infectious, I was powerless to do anything but nod and smile.

  “I need to save some energy for lap dances. You know, in case there are strippers.”

  She rewarded me with a laugh so hearty I knew it reached down all the way to her pussy. And I laughed with her.

  She pulled into a tiny parking lot and put the emergency brake on.

  “You want a water?” she asked and then answered her own question. “Yeah. You need a water.” She pulled open an ice chest in the back that was stocked with all kinds of stuff, including waters. She pulled one out and tossed it to me.

  “Okay, flatlander. Let’s see if you’ve got some muscle tone in those shapely legs.”

  I hurried to catch up. “Did you just call my legs shapely?”

  “I did,” she said, already four steps from the bottom.