The Professor Woos The Witch (Nocturne Falls Book 4)

by Kristen Painter

  “What about all the money from selling this house?”

  “That will definitely help, but we’re not just going to spend it. A lot of it will go into your college fund.”

  She frowned. “Maybe I’m not going to college.”

  “We’re not having that discussion.”

  She rolled her eyes. “I want to stay here.”

  “What about all your friends back home?”

  “I’m already making new ones.”

  “I’m glad to hear that. But our plan isn’t changing. We’re fixing up the house, selling it and moving back. That’s it. End of discussion.”

  She huffed out a breath, her eyes narrowing. “What about Miss Williams?”

  The question caught him off guard for a moment. “She’s…she’s going to help me with the house and you with your witch stuff. Nothing’s changed there either.”

  Kaley tipped her head, mouth bent in obvious skepticism. “Really? Nothing’s changed? She’s totally mad at you.”

  “No, she’s not. Everything is fine between us.”

  Kaley laughed. “Dad, you have a lot to learn about women.”

  He kissed her on the cheek and stood. “On that note, it’s time for you to go to bed. Earbuds out, iPhone off.”

  “Fine.” She yanked the other earbud free, then flung the covers over herself.

  He hit the light switch on the way out, still shaking his head as he headed downstairs. Kaley was right. Pandora was mad at him.

  He thought for a moment about going to see her, but it was after ten. She was probably in bed. And probably wouldn’t want to see him. He rolled his shoulders, but the prickly energy from the night’s events was stuck in his bones. He needed to do something.

  He put the blanket and pillow on the couch. Jack was sitting on the porch. Cole stuck his head out. “You okay?”

  “Yep. You?”

  “I’m going out for a run. Don’t wait up.”

  Jack smiled like he knew what his son was up to. “All right.”

  Cole went back upstairs to change into his gear. If Jack thought Cole was going to see Pandora, he was wrong.

  Running by her house was not the same as going to see her.

  Pandora pulled away from Pilcher Manor with one clear thought. She wasn’t ready to go home. She was too wound up from Cole’s revelation, too buzzed on hurt feelings and the disbelief that he thought everything was still hunky dory between them. How the hell was she going to help him with that house and spend time with Kaley and pretend that they were nothing more than friends?

  Practical. Not freaking likely.

  She needed a drink. And she didn’t want to imbibe alone. That would only put her in a worse state of mind. She needed company. She pulled over and hit Willa’s speed dial.

  The fae jeweler answered a couple rings later. “Hey, woman, what’s up?”

  “Are you busy? You want to come over for a glass of wine?”

  Willa made a disappointed sound. “I’d love to, but Nick and I are watching a movie. How about tomorrow?”

  “No, it’s cool, don’t worry about it. I was just in the mood to hang out. Have fun. Tell Nick I said hi.”

  “Will do. Talk to you soon.”

  Love ruined everything. Pandora hung up and pulled back onto the road. As much as she wanted Willa’s company, the lack of it wasn’t going to stop her from having one drink. And since she still didn’t want to be alone, she made a few turns and five minutes later she was walking into Howler’s. The bar and grill was busy—it was Saturday night, after all—but with kids back in school, there were slightly fewer tourists in town, so the place wasn’t unbearably crowded.

  Bridget Merrow, owner of Howler’s and a werewolf, waved at Pandora before she’d reached the bar. “Hey, Pandora! What brings you in?”

  “I need a drink.” Pandora wriggled in between two occupied bar stools to lean on the bar.

  Bridget’s brows shot up. “That bad?”

  “Sort of.”

  “Sorry to hear that. What can I get you?”

  Pandora glanced to her side. “A seat would be nice. But I’ll settle for a glass of cabernet.”

  Bridget grinned. “I can handle both of those.” She leaned forward and jerked her thumb toward the other end of the bar. “Did you see who’s here?”

  Pandora turned to look. Sitting at the opposite end of the bar was a stone-faced man with a shaved head, a multitude of tattoos and a bent nose that made a lot of sense in conjunction with his heavily muscled body. He had the kind of tensed look that said he could strike at any moment and when he did, you weren’t going to see it coming.

  She grinned. “I didn’t know Van was in town.”

  Bridget nodded. “Just got here. Go ahead, I’ll bring your wine.”

  “Thanks.” Pandora headed toward the hulk of a man and got two steps away before he saw her.

  His face broke out in a huge smile as he slid off his seat and threw his arms wide. “Kotyonok! Is good to see you.”

  She hugged him and laughed. To have a man who looked like him call you kitten was a very unique thing. “You too, Van. How are you?”

  “Good, good.” He kissed her on both cheeks, then pulled back and looked her up and down. “I would ask how you are, but I see you are also very good. You look like you are on the prowl. Have you come to pick up men?”

  His Russian heritage still accented his words. She shook her head. “Definitely not. In fact, I’m here to drink one out of my head.”

  He frowned. “You have man troubles?”

  “Sort of, but nothing a few drinks and a good mope won’t cure.”

  He looked past her. “You have seat already?”

  “No, I just got here. Bridget’s getting my wine.”

  He glared at the man on the bar stool next to his. “You. Get up.”

  The guy turned to see who was talking to him and paled. He grabbed his beer and vacated.

  Van pointed to the empty chair. “You sit by me. Tell me everything.”

  Laughing, but knowing there was no point in trying to get the poor man his seat back, she took the chair. Ivan “Van” Tsvetkov wasn’t a man who took no for an answer. He was a dragon shifter, and while he was a resident of Nocturne Falls, he was here only between fights. He made his living on the MMA fight circuit where he was known as The Hammer.

  Pandora had first met him when he’d come to town looking for a house. A retreat, really. He’d wanted a place in the mountains where he could recoup between fights and get away from the press and publicity. Nothing on the market had fit his needs, so she’d ended up finding him the perfect piece of land and then being his right hand during the building process.

  He’d trusted her implicitly, and she’d gained a friend for life. He’d become almost like an older brother to her, which was fine, because he certainly wasn’t her type romantically.

  Sadly, Cole was. The giant poophead.

  Bridget showed up with Pandora’s wine. “Ivan, you ready for another beer?”

  He nodded. “We need two shots of vodka.”

  Pandora held her hand up. There were some things she could say no to. “I can’t do a shot.”

  “Why not?” He looked at her. “Do you work tomorrow?”

  “No, but…” Really, why not? If there was ever a night to drown her sorrows, it was tonight. “Okay. But only one.”

  If Van thought Pandora didn’t see him wink at Bridget, he was wrong. He held up two fingers and nodded. “Vodka.”

  Then he sat down and turned to face her. “What man has caused you trouble?”

  She sipped her wine. “It’s a long story. With a quick end.” She smiled. “Why don’t you tell me what’s going on with you? How long are you in town for?”

  “Not long. A week.” He finished his beer. “I should talk to this man.”

  She almost choked on her wine. “No, Van, you should not. I appreciate that, but it’s so over it’s not even funny.”

  “You are sure?”

&n
bsp; “Positive.”

  Bridget returned with their shots. “Here you go, kids. Enjoy.”

  They did. Two more rounds later and Pandora had told Van everything about everything. She put her hand on her head. “Ooof. I need to go home. I’m kinda smashed.”

  He looked concerned. “Are you all right, kotyonoko?”

  “Yes. But I probably won’t be tomorrow.” She laughed, even though there was nothing funny about being hungover.

  “You cannot drive.” He held out his enormous hand. “Keys.”

  “I’m not going to drive. I can walk from here. My car will be okay.”

  “But you might not be. I will go with you.” He held up a credit card to Bridget.

  She gave him a nod and came to get it.

  “Everything,” he said, pointing to his and Pandora’s empty glasses.

  “Got it.” She glanced at Pandora. “You okay? You want me to call somebody to take you home?”

  “No.” The last thing Pandora wanted was one of her sisters coming to get her and figuring out she’d gotten so plastered because of Cole that she’d needed someone to walk her home. She sat up as straight as she could. “I’m good. A little wasted, but good.”

  Van put his hand on the back of her chair and said to Bridget, “I will get her home, don’t worry.”

  “Thanks, Ivan.” Bridget took his card. “Be right back.”

  He leaned toward Pandora. “You must drink a lot of water.”

  “I will.” She crossed her heart. Or her entire body. It was hard to tell. “Promise.”

  He signed the check, took his card back and helped her to her feet, then made sure she had her purse. They were about halfway to her house when the last shot kicked in. A sudden wave of wooziness came over her, and her strappy gold sandals turned on her. She tilted toward him, grabbing his arm.

  He caught her before she fell. “This is no good.”

  “I think my shoes are—whoa!” Next thing she knew, she was completely off the ground and in Van’s very strong arms. “You’re carrying me.”

  “Da. Your walking now is not so good.”

  She poked at his chest. “You’re very muscurly. Muscularly. Muscle-y.” She laughed and poked his chest again.

  He snorted. “Kotyonoko, you are drunk and it is my fault. I am sorry.”

  “No.” She waved her hand through the air. Being carried was really a nice way to travel. “I had a good time and you’re a good listener. Thank you.”

  “You are welcome.”

  She smacked his chest. “And you paid. You shouldn’t have done that. I have money. How much do I owe you?”

  “Drink your water and we are good. It’s what friends do.” He stopped at a crossroads. “Remind me. Which way to your house?”

  She pointed toward the street and told him the house number. They started off again. “How’s your house?”

  “It’s very good.”

  “It’s very big.” She yawned. Sleep was tugging at her hard. She put her head on his shoulder.

  “Pandora. We are here.”

  “Huh?” She lifted her head. She’d definitely drifted off.

  Van was standing on the walk that led to her front steps. “I do not want to put you down. There is someone on your porch.”

  She blinked and looked toward the door.

  Cole was sitting on the bench by the front door. He stood. He was dressed for a run. Basketball shorts. T-shirt. No glasses.

  “Put me down, Van. I can walk.”

  He eased her to her feet as Cole came down the steps. His dark eyes seemed angry. Or maybe hurt. “I thought we could talk, but I see now there’s nothing to talk about.”

  A surge of annoyance sobered her enough to stay upright without wobbling. Too much. “No, there isn’t. Unless you’ve changed your mind about leaving.”

  He snorted and looked at Van. “Doesn’t look like there’s still a reason for me to stay.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Means you work fast.”

  Van stiffened. “We are just friends.”

  “Yeah,” Pandora added. “Good friends.” Cole was taller, but Van was wider. And Van could breathe fire. Was that a wisp of steam curling out of the side of his mouth? She put her hand on Van’s arm to keep Cole from getting scorched. “Thanks for getting me home. Call me for lunch or something.”

  Van’s gaze shifted from her to Cole then back to her. “I should wait until you are inside.”

  Cole frowned. “She’s not in any danger from me.”

  “I’m a little tipsy, Cole, in case you hadn’t noticed.” She leaned forward and almost fell over.

  His frown softened. “Are you okay?”

  “I will be. I need to go to bed.”

  Van held on to her. “She will be hungover tomorrow.”

  “No, no.” She shook her head, then stopped when that made her surroundings spin. “I’m going to drink lots of water, I promise.”

  Cole sighed. “She drank because of me.”

  Van nodded. “Yes.”

  She pushed at Van’s rock-solid arm. “Shh. Don’t tell him that.”

  “Damn it.” Cole started to push at his glasses, realizing a second too late he wasn’t wearing them, and dropped his hand. “I’m sorry, Pandora. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I thought you knew—”

  “Stop.” Her stomach started doing questionable things. “I just want to go inside and go to bed.”

  Van helped her forward. “Keys?”

  “Purse.” She handed the bag over to Van. “Side pocket.” Then she looked at Cole. Pretty, pretty, oblivious Cole. “This isn’t the time.”

  He nodded. “I see that. I’m sorry. Tomorrow?”

  “Sure. Whenever. Bye.” She wanted him gone before she embarrassed herself by blowing chunks all over her yard.

  “Tomorrow.” He took one more look at Van, then headed for the street, breaking into a run.

  She sighed as the sound of his footsteps faded away. Then she sniffed. She felt like crying. She blamed it on the booze.

  Before the tears came, Van had the front door open and Pandora back in his arms. He carried her in, then set her up on the couch with a bottle of water, two aspirin and her cell phone at hand. “I should stay.”

  “No, I’m fine. Really.” Embarrassed and way too drunk, but fine.

  “You will call if you need me.”

  “I will. Promise.”

  He slipped her shoes off and covered her with the throw off the back of the couch. “Call me in the morning, or I will come over.”

  “Got it.”

  Pumpkin jumped up and draped herself over Pandora’s legs.

  With the sound of purring and the front door closing, Pandora gave into sleep.

  Cole was a well-educated man. He knew the difference between smart decisions and dumb decisions and yet, he thought, as he stood on Pandora’s front porch the next morning, he couldn’t tell which one this was. But he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her or wondering if she was okay. She’d even shown up in his dreams. He had to do something.

  Even if that guy she’d been with last night had been something more than a friend.

  The shopping bag he carried was filled with take-out boxes of bacon and eggs, hash browns, biscuits, and blueberry pancakes from the diner where he’d eaten breakfast a half hour ago with Kaley and his dad. A place called Mummy’s. It had been very busy, and the food had been very good, so there was no question about the quality of what he’d brought her.

  He just had no idea if she’d even open the door for him. Or if her friend from last night would still be there.

  Please don’t let that be the case.

  If she didn’t open the door, he’d leave her the food anyway. On the rare occasions he’d been hungover, diner food—once he’d been able to eat—had been just the thing. And since he was the reason she was hungover, he kind of owed her.

  With no real hope, he knocked.

  A few minutes went by. He’d bent
to set the bag on the porch when the door swung slowly open. Pandora’s fat orange cat sat in the foyer staring at him.

  On the other side of the foyer, Pandora leaned against the kitchen doorway, a cup of coffee in one hand, the other finishing a flourish in the air. Had she used magic to open the door? She was swaddled in a big, fluffy ivory robe, an emerald green P embroidered on the breast. She waved her hand and the door opened wider. She frowned. “I thought you were Charisma or Willa, even though I told them not to come over.”

  “I was…worried about you. Are you okay?”

  “Do I look okay? I’m hungover like a frat boy after a weeklong kegger. I’m never drinking again.”

  “You don’t look anything like a frat boy. You look pretty good, actually.” Her makeup was smudged like she’d slept in it, and her hair was a messy knot on top of her head, but it was kind of adorable. And sexy. An image of her sprawled in bed floated through his mind.

  He had it bad for her. Bad.

  He picked up the bag. “I brought you breakfast.”

  The cat meowed.

  “Pumpkin, you already ate.” Pandora stared at him. She’d yet to say he could come in. “From?”

  “Mummy’s.”

  She perked up a little. “Any pancakes in there?”

  “Blueberry. Also biscuits, bacon and eggs and hash browns.”

  She swallowed. “You can come in. But I don’t feel like talking.”

  “That’s okay.” As long as she felt like listening.

  He waited until she’d had her first bite of pancake dripping in butter and syrup, both of which Mummy’s had provided in ample amounts. She made a happy, that’s-delicious noise.

  “Good?”

  “Always.” She glanced at him, then pointed toward the counter with her fork. “You can have some coffee if you want.”

  “Thanks.” He got a cup, then joined her at the kitchen table. “Do you remember much of last night?”

  “I remember all of it. I was tipsy and unstable, but I didn’t black out.”

  He nodded. “I owe you an apology. And an explanation.”

  “I’m listening.” She stabbed her fork into another bite of pancakes.

  “I’m sorry for not explaining things better. For not telling you upfront that I had no plans to stay in Nocturne Falls. And for assuming you knew. But I didn’t expect for anything to happen between us, either. You didn’t even like me initially.”