Of Witches and Warlocks: The Complete Series

Chapter 17

Chapter 17

Gingerly out of the bedroom, I glanced down the hall knowing we were going to get many shocked stares looking like we did. Vance strode into the dining room, obviously not caring he was only dressed in a baggy pair of sweat pants, and sporting bed head. It also didn't seem to bother him that I was feeling half-dressed in my white tank top and plaid boxer shorts. My hair was twisting out in every direction possible, and I knew my lips were obviously swollen from our previous kissing session.

"Morning, everyone!" Vance said, cheerfully as if nothing were amiss, pulling me to the food spread out on the buffet. The chatter in the room stopped as people looked at us, taking in our appearance.

I couldn't make eye contact with anyone, afraid of what the stares were saying. I let my thick hair fall forward around my face, trying to hide the humiliation. But Vance was in a mood this morning, and he was intent on flaunting it.

"See anything you want to eat for breakfast, baby?" he asked with a smile as he pulled me close, pushing my hair from my face with one hand as he molded me against his body with the other. Surprise ran through me when he lowered his head and proceeded to French kiss me in front of everyone.

Threading his fingers into my hair, he kept my face pushed against his, so I couldn't pull away—not that I really wanted to. I had to admit he was the best kisser in the world, and after a moment, I forgot where I was. My arms involuntarily threaded their way around his neck, bringing him even closer.

When he let me go, I suddenly remembered where we were and I felt my face flush. He, however, was grinning from ear to ear at my response, totally pleased with himself.

"Breakfast?" he asked again, lifting one of his eyebrows in question.

"Uh . . . the French kiss . . . um, I mean, the French toast looks good," I stammered, as I looked over the buffet.

"French toast it is!" he said, still grinning triumphantly while placing some on a plate and drowning it with maple syrup. Taking the plate over to the table and sitting it down, he pulled a chair out, guiding me into it like I was the Queen of England or something. Once I was settled, he bent and pecked my lips again.

"Mmm." He winked seductively. "You're sweeter than syrup this morning, Portia."

I couldn't hold it in any longer, and I burst out laughing—partially because he was funny, but mostly from the nervous reaction he was causing.

"What are you doing?" I asked quietly, my eyes widening in confusion as I stared at him.

"I want everyone to know exactly how happy I am this morning," he replied with a smile.

"Well, I think you're scaring them," I whispered and finally braved a glance, finding everyone watching us with extremely avid interest.

He turned, noticing everyone gazing at him quizzically. I realized most people had probably never witnessed this side of Vance, or anything even remotely close to it before. He always played the role of the aloof, tortured individual before this point.

"You all have seen people who are crazy in love before. Shut your traps and move along." He shooed them away with the back of his hands as if he were addressing a group of unruly children instead of some very educated, powerful, adults.

No one moved, but continued to stare. It was quiet only for a moment, though, and then Brad spoke up, breaking the tension.

"We can't move yet," he replied sarcastically. "We all need a cold shower after your little display."