Dark Witch (The Cousins O'Dwyer Trilogy #1)(86)

“Think of it more as an investment,” Fin suggested. “Christ Jesus, man, have you never put your foot in it with a woman and had to find the way to pull it out again?”

Boyle set his jaw. “If I’m wrong, I say I’m wrong. If that’s not enough, well, that’s that. I’ve never gone around with a woman who matters, so . . .”

“And she does. Matter,” Connor finished.

“It should be apparent enough.” He brooded into his beer. “I’m not going around buying flowers and baubles to put a patch on it. I’ll apologize, for I couldn’t be sorrier to have put that look on her face. The mad, that’s fine. You shout it out and it’s finished. But I hurt her, and I’m sorry for it.”

He pushed up. “I’ll see about the steaks.”

“Mad for her,” Fin said when Boyle left the room.

“And panicked with it, which would be good fun if this hadn’t happened. She’ll forgive him, for she’s tenderhearted and just as mad for him. But she won’t shine again until he gives her back what she’s so willing to give him.”

“What would that be?”

“Love, given freely and without conditions. The flowers, the bauble will make her smile, when she’s ready. But he’ll have to give over himself before she shines again.”

“It’s what makes us all shine,” Fin observed.


*


IN THE LIVING ROOM OF THE COTTAGE WITH THE FIRE SIMMERING and candles lit, Iona snuggled into the corner of the couch. Meara had not only come, but with provisions of pizza and ice cream.

“Pizza, cookie dough ice cream, wine, and girls.” Iona lifted her glass in toast. “The best there is.”

“I keep the pizza and ice cream in the freezer for just such emergencies.”

“It’s perfect. We should all be lesbians.”

“You’ll have to speak for yourself there.” Amused, Meara took a second slice.

“I think the Amazons were probably lesbians. Or some of them anyway. That’s what I thought of you when I first saw you.”

Choking on her bite of pizza, Meara downed some wine. “You took a look at me and thought: Why, there’s a lesbian?”

“Amazon. I hadn’t thought about your sexual orientation, then I saw you and Boyle together and figured you were together, but that was wrong. Amazon,” Iona repeated. “Tall and gorgeous and built. I’m a little bit drunk.” She smiled at Branna. “Thanks.”

“Oh, anytime a’tall.”

“We can all be Amazons.”

“You’re a bit short for it,” Meara pointed out.

“There had to be some runts in the litter.”

“Word is she’s small but mighty,” Branna added.

“Damn right! See what I can do?” She popped a jittery ball of flame into her hand.

“Best not to play with fire, or magick, when you’re a little bit drunk,” Branna advised.

“Right.” She winked it out. “But I can do it, that’s the point. I can take care of myself. I’m going to buy a car, then when I want to drive around, I’ll drive my own damn self. I’ve got power and purpose. I don’t need a man.”

“If we’re to be Amazons, we’ll just use them for sex or whatever else comes to mind, then cast them out or kill them.”

Iona nodded at Meara. “Let’s do that. Not the killing, it’s a little extreme. But the sex and whatever. I really like sex.”

“Here’s to it.” Meara lifted her glass, drank, then glanced at Branna.

“Aren’t you drinking to sex?”

“I’ll drink to it, as that’s the closest I’ve come to it in some time.”

Iona sighed, a little bit drunkenly. “You could have sex with anybody. You’re so gorgeous.”

“Thanks very much, but anybody doesn’t appeal to me at this time.”

“She’s particular about the matter,” Meara added.

“Me, too, or I have been. I think I’ll stop doing that. Sex with Boyle was spectacular.”

“Do tell,” Meara commented. “And I mean do. I’ve all the time in the world.”

With a laugh, Iona sipped more wine. “Hot and wild and sweaty. Like the world was going to end any minute and you had to have each other first.”

“Ah well, I haven’t come close to that particular brand in some time myself.”

“Done now.” Iona swiped a hand through the air. “It’s time for a good dose of cynicism because love sucks. Who needs it when you’ve got pizza and ice cream and girls, and lots of wine?”

“I’ve always figured it was the frosting.”

Now Iona stabbed a finger toward Meara. “Frosting’s fattening and gives you cavities.”

“There’s the risk of that to be sure, but . . . Well, you’ve got to bake the cake, don’t you? Bake it well so it satisfies yourself. And maybe you decide to add frosting, maybe you don’t.”

“Love as a choice?” No, Iona thought. No. Love just picked you up and tossed you in. “But how do you choose? You’ve baked your cake, and there it is, and you’re thinking that’s a pretty good cake, that’s good enough for me. Then you blink and all this wonderful frosting just plops down on it out of nowhere.”