Page 73 of This Witch Is Not Wicked

The men disappeared, probably going back to their village idiots to report their findings. I sighed and lay back down next to Nevan, snuggling into him and holding him just a little bit tighter while I still had the chance.

CHAPTER 29

Enid

Nevan gripped my hand tight as he led me toward the Deerborn.

“We’re making a house call where we had our first date?” I asked as we approached the log building. A sign that read Deerborn swung in the wind overhead as we entered through the front door.

It was early morning, and the tavern was empty, not yet open.

Nevan let go of my hand, striding forward. “We’re here to see Ms. Carragh.”

The older woman who’d served us our food. I remembered, but I had no idea why Nevan had wanted me to come with him.

“What’s wrong with her?” I asked.

“She cut her hand yesterday, needs me to evaluate the wound.”

That sounded incredibly boring. “If you’re going to invite me on a house call, at least make it something good.”

He raised a brow. “Good?”

I shrugged. “I want to see you heal something impressive, like an impaling.”

He gave a laugh of disbelief. “You know you can’t heal an impaling, right? If someone gets impaled, there’s no coming back from that.”

I trailed my finger along the rough stone of the hearth, its chimney stretching all the way to the ceiling. “Too bad.”

He walked toward the little staircase tucked into the back wall by the kitchen. “She lives in an apartment over the tavern.” He carried a satchel, and I assumed all his medical supplies were in there.

“I have a more exciting idea,” I said, walking toward a nearby table.

Nevan stopped in the doorway and turned. “Oh?”

“How about we memorialize our first date by recreating me sitting on your lap?” I patted the chair.

Nevan sent a quick look up the stairs. “We can’t do that.”

I gestured to the empty space. “I don’t see anyone here.”

He licked his lips, gaze dipping to my breasts, and I knew he was actually considering it. “This is a restaurant. That would be incredibly . . . unsanitary.”

“It would also be incredibly fun.”

“Ms. Carragh is expecting us. What if she comes down here looking for us while you’re . . .” He gestured to the chair. “On top of me. She’d have a heart attack.”

“Good thing you’re a healer, then.”

He smiled, dimples appearing. “You’re trouble.”

“But the good kind,” I said.

Desire flared in his eyes. “Oh, definitely the good kind.”

My blood heated, but I gave an exaggerated sigh. “Fine. But if you want me to walk up those stairs and watch you stitch up this old lady, you’re going to have to stop looking at me like that.”

He cleared his throat and adjusted his spectacles. “Then you’re going to have to stop filling my head with all your fantasies.”