Winter Fire (The Witchling #3)(16)
She nodded.
“I’ve never had to work so hard for a date.” Beck laughed. “I guess anything worth having is worth fighting for, no?”
She flushed, completely unsettled by his words and the wink that accompanied them.
The awkward silence grew longer. She looked everywhere but at him, not sure of what to do with herself.
“I’ll pull my car around,” he said finally. “You need a jacket?”
She nodded and took the opening to flee towards the stairs. Nearly breathless by the time she reached the top, Morgan hurried to her room and let out a huge breath when she was safe inside.
She was going on a date! With him!
This was all wrong. It wasn’t really a date, she tried to remind herself. She was going because the bigfoot wanted her to go out with the best looking guy in the universe.
Morgan subdued the urge to squeal or dance or something and grabbed her jacket. With a few deep breaths, she composed herself and went downstairs, past the guys watching football in the living area and onto the porch.
Beck was waiting beside a dark car. He jumped in place to keep warm, and opened the door for her when she approached. She didn’t dare look at him as she dropped into the warm front seat of the nice car. He slid into the driver’s seat a moment later and put the car into gear.
He was quiet until they reached the main road through town.
“So, tell me about you,” he said.
“I’m a fire-breathing dragon in the shape of a girl. I was born and raised in up-state New York and have been playing with fire since I was five,” she replied.
“Nice,” he said with a faint smile. “I’m surprised your magick works for you already. Most of the kids who come here have to find the trigger to unlock it.”
“My mom taught me,” she said.
“That’s cool,” he said. “One brother? Any more?”
“No.”
“Parents still living?”
“Yep. Divorced when I was fourteen. Dad took me. Mom got Connor. Nasty split.”
“Sounds like it.”
She looked at him. “You?”
“Nothing nearly as exciting as a dragon,” he started. “Earth element, born to the Mistress of Dark. Makes for an interesting childhood. My twin is the Master of Dark.”
“Wait, you’re the Master of Light?” she asked, startled.
He laughed. “Don’t seem so surprised! If you paid attention in school, you would know that. It’s like, day one.”
“I’m not surprised at all!” she replied archly. “I was going to say it fits you. But I didn’t know it!”
“You think it fits me?”
“Yes, I do.”
“I guess you don’t know me well enough,” he said.
“Why would you say that?” She didn’t like the sound of bitterness in his voice; it wasn’t him. He was happy, and the anger didn’t belong.
Beck glanced at her.
“The only thing wrong with you appears to be your choice of girls,” she continued. “Only blondes? Knocking up crazy ones that you now need to be protected from?” She shook her head. “Not good.”
“Rough lessons, but I learned them,” he said. “I’ve made a lot of mistakes.”
“Everyone does. But you’re not a bad person.”
“Wow,” he murmured. “Crunchy on the outside, sweet on the inside.”
“Crunchy?”
He smiled.
“You can go do your protector role as the Master of Light, and I’ll watch your back,” she added. It made more sense now, why Sam was worried. If Beck was occupied by taking care of all the witchlings in the world, he wouldn’t know until it was too late that he was in trouble himself.
“You’re serious?” Beck asked. “I don’t need anyone to take care of me, but you’d do that for some random stranger?”
“You do that for the witchlings. It’s no different.”
“But it’s kind of my job. You’re just … nice. I’m not used to that.”
The way he said it left her puzzled. Morgan studied him, trying to understand where he was coming from.
“Your girlfriends are all jerks?” she asked.
“The serious ones. You got it right about my taste in women.”
“Well, I’m not a jerk.” Her face flamed. “Or your girlfriend.”
“Keep it up, and you might be.”
“No, I’m …” she sought something to say. Flustered, what came out made little sense. “I’m here to see the lights.”
“Even though you hate Christmas.” Beck’s laugh was warm. “One day at a time, right? It’s my family motto.”
“Yes,” she mumbled.
“You play sports?”
She almost sighed when he steered the awkward conversation in another direction. They spoke about sports and the differences between winters in the east and west coast the remainder of the way to the river.
The lights drew her from a distance, and she fell silent, fascinated by the displays of Christmas lights and trees lining the river walk in Priest River, the mid-sized town nearest the boarding school. The boardwalks were crowded. Beck paid for parking close to the boardwalk and turned off the car.