Jodi Redford - Maximum Witch

“You’re not a vegetarian, are you?”

She glanced at Max, her tummy getting that funny tingle again as she watched him lather up his hands. Okay, there was no reason why she should be so ridiculously turned on by that, for crying out loud. “Nope. Plop a slab of prime rib in front of me and I’m a happy woman.”

“Now you’re talking my language.” He dried his hands with a dish towel before journeying to the fridge. “How about I grill a couple T-bones? And there’s just enough fixings for salad.”

“I can take care of that part, if you want.”

“You’re a guest. My mom would kick my ass if I put you to work.”

She snorted. “You also saved my life today. Pretty sure that trumps social manners.” Before he could balk, she snatched the head of romaine lettuce from his grip and carried it to the sink for rinsing. While he went out onto the deck to light the grill, she rummaged in the crisper drawer and found a cucumber and a container of grape tomatoes. By the time he came back inside she’d managed to toss all the ingredients in a large ceramic bowl she’d discovered in one of the well-stocked cupboards.

“Looks like you found everything easily enough.” Reaching above her head, he snagged a plate. He stood so close, his sweatpants brushed along her thigh in a soft glide. She gulped as a thousand goose bumps cropped across her skin.

Slapping the cupboard door shut, he stepped away.

The breath she’d been holding trickled free, and she turned slightly while he unwrapped a pair of steaks from their butcher paper. Her mind returned to the photo in his office of him receiving some type of award. Curiosity once again gnawed at her. “You mentioned your mom is a professional chef. How about you?”

He shook his head. “Law enforcement.”

“You’re a cop?” No wonder he’d been quick to rescue her. Taking on the role of hero would be natural to him. An intrinsic instinct.

“Sheriff.” He glanced over his shoulder. “Not in the human realm, mind you. My jurisdiction isn’t land based.”

His pronouncement baffled her, until she recalled where he’d found her today. “The ocean ? I didn’t know there was any law enforcement in place there.”

Max’s smile was lopsided and dangerously endearing. “We’re pretty low profile.”

“What exactly does your job entail? Or can you say?” She wrinkled her nose. “If it’s one of those I’d tell ya but then I’d have to kill you deals, I’ll stick with staying in the dark.”

He chuckled. The husky sound slid over her like smooth velvet, bringing a gush of wetness between her thighs and making her nipples pebble. Oh jeez . She’d never been more grateful for a baggy shirt.

“No, nothing like that. Basically, I do the same thing a human sheriff does, only in water.” He made a vague gesture with his arm. “Keep the peace. Protect the innocent. Put the hurt on bad guys. Whatever’s required of me.”

She cocked her head. “Like rescue damsels in distress from leviathans?”

“Yeah.” He rubbed a deliciously fragrant seasoning onto the steaks and moved to the sink. Using his elbow to raise the faucet’s handle, he squirted soap into his palm. “Not sure I’ve ever come up against a bigger brute than that sonofabitch, though. Not too proud to say I hope I never do again.”

Having firsthand knowledge of the ugly beasts, she knew precisely what Max had been forced to contend with. The idea that he’d been able to defeat the creature boggled her brain. Granted, he was a huge guy, and generously ripped with a plethora of yummy muscles, but it was hard to believe a small army could take on a leviathan, much less one man.

Then again, Max wasn’t exactly a man. Reminded of that important fact, she looked him over. “I was meaning to ask you something earlier.”

“Hmm?” His expression partly distracted, he shut off the faucet.

“What kind of shifter are you?”

For some strange reason, he grimaced. “Damn, I was hoping you wouldn’t ask.”

“Why?”

“My species has a bad rap.” He coughed before scraping his palm along his jaw. “Some tend to hold that against me.”

“I wouldn’t.”

“Don’t be so sure.” A resigned exhale leaked from him. “I don’t want you to freak or get the wrong impression.”

She frowned. “Uh, you’re kinda freakin’ me out right now.” What was he going to tell her? That he was a seahorse? She automatically visualized one of the teensy creatures and superimposed Max’s head on top. Her giggle threatened to pop free.

“I’m a shark, Willa.”

Her smile froze in place.

“Shit. This is why I didn’t want to mention it.”

Digesting the information, she stared at Max, trying to correlate the image of Jaws with the hunk standing in front of her.

“You’re picturing Jaws right now, aren’t you?” His mouth adopted a sardonic twist when she blinked. “No, I can’t read minds, if that’s what you’re wondering. But I’m well acquainted with your expression. I’ve seen it a time or two on the faces of the men in my own department.” Another hint of that resigned weariness shaded Max’s features. “To put your mind at ease, I’m not nearly as big as that ugly bastard. And I don’t munch on swimmers.”

“Th-that’s good to know.” A thought suddenly occurred to her. “Is Boone a shark too? I mean, are there a lot of you out there? Because I can honestly say, you’re the first I’ve ever met.”

“Nope, Boone’s a seal shifter. To answer your other question, my species is fairly rare. To my knowledge, I’m the only one in all of Georgia.”

“Wow. Doesn’t that make you feel…lonely?”

Rather than answer, he gazed at her for a long moment, the shadow of a dark emotion she knew all too well lurking in his eyes. Returning his attention to the plate of food, he cleared his throat. “Guess I better get these on the grill.”

She watched him walk out the French doors, her heart giving an odd tug. She knew what it meant to be lonely. To ache for someone to come home to every day.

Tamping down her glumness, she searched for napkins and silverware, making herself busy setting the pine farm table for the two of them. Once that task was taken care of, she fidgeted for a few minutes, at a loss for what to do next. Finally she admitted defeat and unlatched the door, joining Max on the deck. In the distance, the moonlit Atlantic rolled in shimmering waves toward the shore. Unable to help it, she shuddered and crossed her arms over her chest. Max eyed her, his gorgeous profile lit with a red glow from the grill’s flickering flames. “If it’s too cold for you out here, feel free to grab the blanket.”

He’d misunderstood the source of her shivers, but playing along with his theory was easier and less painful than revealing the truth. “It’s got to be at least seventy-five degrees. In what world is that considered cold?”

His mouth slid into a half smile. “Sorry. I keep forgetting you’re adapted to walking around in human skin.” He stabbed one of the steaks with a long-handled fork and turned the sizzling meat. “Some of us shifters are occasionally sensitive to temperature.”

It took a moment to catch his meaning. Damn it, he still thought she was something besides human. She planted her hands on her hips, intending to set him straight, but before she could even open her mouth, he lobbed another question at her.

“What made you decide to become a witch?”

She dropped her arms, the unexpected inquiry putting her at a disadvantage. Mulling the question, she plucked at the hem of the oversized shirt. Truthfully, she couldn’t remember a time when the energetic magic coursing through her hadn’t existed. Before she’d joined the witches’ alliance, she’d never known there were others like her out there. Finding out she wasn’t an odd freak of nature had been immensely comforting. “I don’t know. I’ve always just been drawn to it, kind of like a calling, I suppose. Why?”