“You’re very far away,” Lucas said, and she snapped her attention back to the here and now, to the somewhat overwhelming presence of the man who sat next to her.
“Sorry,” she replied at once. “I haven’t had one of these in a while.”
“And it has that much of an effect on you? You’ve only had two sips.”
Despite herself, she grinned. “No, not that. We used to drink these in high school. Guess it just took me back.”
He was watching her closely, dark eyes intent. Another of those not entirely unwelcome shivers worked its way down her back. “I have a hard time imagining you doing anything that…illicit.”
“Oh, we all had our rebellious stages, I guess,” she told him. “I got over mine pretty quickly, though.”
“Apparently.”
An awkward silence descended, while she sipped again at her Jack and Coke, and he took a slightly larger swallow of his martini. Vodka, she thought, judging by the smell, not gin. As if it mattered.
“I’d expected this place to be more crowded,” Lucas commented then, gesturing with his free hand toward the rest of the bar and the random half-dozen or so patrons it currently boasted.
Glad of the chance to move on to a more neutral topic, Margot replied, “It will be later. Right now the dance is just getting started. Once the band has done a few sets and they’ve announced the winners of the costume contest, people will start to trickle in here. I’ve heard it can get pretty packed.”
“Then I’m glad we got here early.” His gaze was warm as he looked at her, and she was uncomfortably aware of just how close he sat, so close she could once again catch the faintest trace of the cologne he wore. She could see how thick his dark eyelashes were, the faint brush of gray at his temples.
A warmth began in the pit of her stomach that didn’t have much to do with the whiskey she’d just consumed, and she looked away, pretending to gaze at the painting over the bar, the coffered ceiling, so lovingly restored. I shouldn’t have come here, she thought then, but couldn’t summon the will to extricate herself. It would be terribly rude to run out on him now.
And…she really didn’t want to.
What did she want? More to the point, what did he want?
She wasn’t sure she wanted to know the answer to either of those questions.
Clearing her throat, she asked, “So, Lucas, what do you Wilcoxes do on Samhain? Any particular observances?” Oh, Goddess, that sounded terrible. And judgmental…“you Wilcoxes,” indeed.
If he saw anything wrong with the question, he didn’t show it. “We’re not really practitioners of the old ways like you are here in Jerome,” he said easily. “We have our solstice observations, but that’s about it. In Flagstaff, Samhain is just Halloween. The clan members with kids that age will be taking them trick-or-treating, I suppose.”
“Oh,” she said, her tone sounding flat. “Then I suppose Connor will be here with us?”
“I would assume so. If Angela’s up to — well, whatever it is you do.”
There was just the slightest hint of a question in his words. “Nothing taxing. The prima decides on the particulars of the ceremony, so I have no doubt Angela will tailor it to her…condition.”
Lucas nodded but didn’t reply, instead taking another swallow of his martini. Was he wondering if she would invite him? No, that was ridiculous. Have a Wilcox present at one of their most sacred rites?
Well, Connor is going to be there, and he’s a Wilcox….
She shoved the thought out of her head. “I fear that’s the last we’ll have of her for a while, because the doctor doesn’t want her that far away as she gets closer to her due date. So much for summering in Flagstaff and wintering here in Jerome.”
“Well, there are extenuating circumstances on this go-round,” Lucas said, his tone so gentle that she couldn’t take it as a rebuke. Well, mostly. “I’m sure next year things will be on a more or less regular schedule.”
As regular as it could be with twins. Margot tried to imagine caring for two infants at the same time, but as she was an only child, her imagination rather failed her on that point. The prospect seemed somewhat horrifying to her, but Angela and Connor appeared to regard raising twins as their next great adventure together.
“I’m sure,” she echoed in absent tones, wondering where she would be a year from now. Here, naturally. Well, not here at the Spirit Room, but down the street at Spook Hall, listening to the same music, watching the same couples get up and dance. Would Adam and his new Wilcox girlfriend be married by then?