A Spell Of Trouble (Silver Hollow Paranormal Cozy Mystery Series Book 1) by Leighann Dobbs, Traci Douglass Page B
Authors: Leighann Dobbs, Traci Douglass
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then hesitated. He stood dangerously close to her. His energy was intoxicating. This close, she could see the flecks of gold in his hazel eyes and, deep inside them, a shadow of almost desperate concern.
Maybe Dex was a witch, because she felt as if he’d cast some kind of spell on her. Time slowed to a crawl. Even her heart seemed to be affected, the beat of it now thrumming in her veins.
“I think you should be careful about where you go. It might not be safe.” Dex’s sincere eyes dropped to her lips. She got the feeling there was a hidden meaning behind his words.
“Well, I don’t think I have anything to worry about.” Issy’s voice was soft, her own eyes now magnetically drawn to Dex’s sensual lips.
Dex’s arm dropped from the top of the truck window where he’d been holding the door open and reached for her waist. Without thinking, Issy stepped toward him. His face hovered above hers, and then their lips met.
Surprisingly, kissing Dex seemed like the most natural thing in the world. His lips were soft and tasted slightly salty. His body warm and hard. She pressed against him, her lips opening. Her arms tangled around his neck as he pulled her closer.
* * *
A low groan escaped Dex’s throat before he could stop it. Kissing her was wrong on so many levels—she was a suspect, a person of interest in the case at the very least, a virtual stranger with whom he had no business getting involved. And yet, holding her close in his arms felt like the rightest thing in his whole, crazy life. Even if her little dog was growling and attacking his ankle as if her tiny life depended on it.
Her lips tasted like sunshine and warm, bright hope. She was soft and sweet, and her silky curls tangled around his fingers as he slipped his hand behind her head and pulled her closer, still not quite believing that he was kissing her—the kindest, prettiest, quirkiest woman he’d met in a long, long time. He wanted to hold her hand and walk with her through the dappled woods, learn all about her childhood and her dreams. He didn’t want to stop kissing her even though he should. He really, really should. Just one more kiss, then…
Too soon, she placed her hands on his chest and stepped away, her pretty sea-green gaze lowered to the gravel beneath their feet. She leaned back against the side of the rusted-out monstrosity she seemed to think constituted a truck. Brown Betty, she’d called the thing. Piece of junk was more like it.
“Bella, no,” Issy said, her voice rough and slightly quivering. “Leave the man’s shoes alone.”
Dex glanced down at the little dog, which gave him a dark look before rushing back the side of her mistress again.
He licked his lips and still tasted Issy there, and his already-pounding pulse kicked a notch higher. In order to stop himself from reaching for her again, he moved back and jammed his hands through his hair. The case. What he should be thinking about right now was solving this case. Or rather proving there was nothing to solve… or at least nothing the FBPI would be interested in. He needed to get back to the safe, sterile, cold office where he belonged, not out here searching for silly, imaginary things that supposedly went bump in the night. Dex turned away and scanned the deserted stretch of roadway beside them. “So, um…”
“Yeah,” Issy said, her voice soft and quiet.
“That wasn’t supposed to happen.”
“No, it wasn’t.”
Dex inhaled sharply. The kiss had definitely been a mistake, that much was true. So why did it sting so much to hear her say it? “Right. Of course. I’m sorry about that.” He kicked a pebble with the toe of his hiking boot and mumbled under his breath, “Sort of.”
“Me too.” She fluffed her soft curls and squinted up into the blue sky, whispering quietly—so quietly he would’ve missed it if he hadn’t been paying attention. “Sort of.”
Hard as he tried to tamp it down, a spike of hope stabbed his chest. Maybe when
Maybe Dex was a witch, because she felt as if he’d cast some kind of spell on her. Time slowed to a crawl. Even her heart seemed to be affected, the beat of it now thrumming in her veins.
“I think you should be careful about where you go. It might not be safe.” Dex’s sincere eyes dropped to her lips. She got the feeling there was a hidden meaning behind his words.
“Well, I don’t think I have anything to worry about.” Issy’s voice was soft, her own eyes now magnetically drawn to Dex’s sensual lips.
Dex’s arm dropped from the top of the truck window where he’d been holding the door open and reached for her waist. Without thinking, Issy stepped toward him. His face hovered above hers, and then their lips met.
Surprisingly, kissing Dex seemed like the most natural thing in the world. His lips were soft and tasted slightly salty. His body warm and hard. She pressed against him, her lips opening. Her arms tangled around his neck as he pulled her closer.
* * *
A low groan escaped Dex’s throat before he could stop it. Kissing her was wrong on so many levels—she was a suspect, a person of interest in the case at the very least, a virtual stranger with whom he had no business getting involved. And yet, holding her close in his arms felt like the rightest thing in his whole, crazy life. Even if her little dog was growling and attacking his ankle as if her tiny life depended on it.
Her lips tasted like sunshine and warm, bright hope. She was soft and sweet, and her silky curls tangled around his fingers as he slipped his hand behind her head and pulled her closer, still not quite believing that he was kissing her—the kindest, prettiest, quirkiest woman he’d met in a long, long time. He wanted to hold her hand and walk with her through the dappled woods, learn all about her childhood and her dreams. He didn’t want to stop kissing her even though he should. He really, really should. Just one more kiss, then…
Too soon, she placed her hands on his chest and stepped away, her pretty sea-green gaze lowered to the gravel beneath their feet. She leaned back against the side of the rusted-out monstrosity she seemed to think constituted a truck. Brown Betty, she’d called the thing. Piece of junk was more like it.
“Bella, no,” Issy said, her voice rough and slightly quivering. “Leave the man’s shoes alone.”
Dex glanced down at the little dog, which gave him a dark look before rushing back the side of her mistress again.
He licked his lips and still tasted Issy there, and his already-pounding pulse kicked a notch higher. In order to stop himself from reaching for her again, he moved back and jammed his hands through his hair. The case. What he should be thinking about right now was solving this case. Or rather proving there was nothing to solve… or at least nothing the FBPI would be interested in. He needed to get back to the safe, sterile, cold office where he belonged, not out here searching for silly, imaginary things that supposedly went bump in the night. Dex turned away and scanned the deserted stretch of roadway beside them. “So, um…”
“Yeah,” Issy said, her voice soft and quiet.
“That wasn’t supposed to happen.”
“No, it wasn’t.”
Dex inhaled sharply. The kiss had definitely been a mistake, that much was true. So why did it sting so much to hear her say it? “Right. Of course. I’m sorry about that.” He kicked a pebble with the toe of his hiking boot and mumbled under his breath, “Sort of.”
“Me too.” She fluffed her soft curls and squinted up into the blue sky, whispering quietly—so quietly he would’ve missed it if he hadn’t been paying attention. “Sort of.”
Hard as he tried to tamp it down, a spike of hope stabbed his chest. Maybe when
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