История кривого билда: Баф-машина. Сергей Вишневский

I love them. Come inside.” She opened her door and he followed her in, but stayed on the rubber mat inside the doorway. “I’ll put them in water, then get ready,” she called as she disappeared around a corner.

      The vast loft ceiling was two, maybe even three, stories high. He loved the wide-open space. Immediately before him lay the living area with couch, TV and armchairs. To his right must be the kitchen that he couldn’t see from his position. Off to the left and behind the living area, he saw something big covered with a sheet. Tools and a workbench stood nearby.

      “I’m sorry.” Daisy appeared before him, twisting her hair about a finger. “I completely lost track of time. I was over at my neighbor’s. Her old stove is trying to kick the bucket, and she won’t invest in a new one. I had to pull out the heating coil and give it a good talking-to.”

      “That works with appliances? A good talking-to?”

      She shrugged. Such a pretty pink little pixy wolf. He could kiss her right now. Run his fingers through her hair, pull her close and taste her mouth until he forgot his name. But she probably read about that kind of stuff in her books all the time.

      How to win over this particular woman, who was like no woman he had ever dated before? The flowers had been stupid. Should have gone for one of those paperback romances he’d noticed in the checkout line.

      “Give me ten minutes,” she said. “I’ll go wash my face and change quick. You can sit on the couch.”

      He lifted a foot. “Uh, I should stay here. My boots are wet.”

      “Suit yourself. In that case, I’ll make it five.”

      She scampered off to the back of the loft. A king-size bed sat against the wall, and near that an iron bar suspended from the high ceiling served as a clothes rack. She pulled a few items from it then disappeared into the bathroom, which appeared to be the only room that was actually walled and private.

      Beck squatted down and took in the place. The window at the end of the bedroom was curved to a peak at the top, sort of cathedral-like. Cool. And probably romantic as hell to lay snuggled in bed together watching the moonlight.

      He smiled and rubbed a hand over his grin, but realized he didn’t need to hide his reaction to the sexy thought.

      Beyond the window, the rest of the place was clean and industrial. It was the ultimate bachelor’s pad. Big, spacious, minimal decoration. Nothing froufrou. And there was a welder’s torch on the bench over by what he assumed was the covered artwork.

      He’d like to see how she was using the bicycle chains. Hell, he’d like to see anything she wanted to show him, so long as that meant they got to spend some time together.

      “What about the brother?” he called when she stepped out of the bathroom five minutes later, pulling her hair back and twisting it into a ponytail.

      “Brother? Oh, right. Kelyn is going to look for me there. He’s got a date tonight, too. So we’re on our own.” She scampered up before him, dressed in snug gray jeans and an oversize black sweater that looked softer than a kitten. “You okay with that?”

      “With having you all to myself? I think I can deal.”

      “Great.” She pulled on some snow pants, a coat and a black knit hat with the cat ears on the top and long strings that hung down over her coat and ended in big black pom-poms. “What’s wrong? You’re staring.”

      “You’re just so cute,” Beck said.

      Daisy punched him in the arm. Apparently this woman’s way of dealing with compliments was with violence.

      Good, he thought. She’d keep him on his toes. If not leave a permanent bruise on his biceps.

      Grabbing a tote bag from the kitchen chair, Daisy led him through the doorway. Toggling a cat ear on her hat, he closed the door. “This way, kitten.”

      “Oh, do not kitten me,” she said as she locked the door behind them.

      “You prefer pixy wolf?”

      “Pixy wolf?”

      “Yeah, you look like a pixy.”

      “Apparently you have never seen an actual pixy. They’re no bigger than six or seven inches and have pointy ears and a nasty manner.”

      “Then nix the pixy reference. How about faery wolf?”

      “Why don’t you try Daisy?” she suggested, and shuffled down the stairs.

      Beck nodded. Hell, he was nervous. He felt like he’d never been on a date and he was doing everything wrong.

      Chill, man. Relax and get to know the girl.

      What was it Beck had heard about faeries and their wings? Something about touching them being a sexual turn-on.

      “Nice,” he muttered.

Chapter 4

      They’d found the perfect perch on a hilltop and up against a rock, just behind the masses of people who had gathered at the park. The ice castle sat before the lake, its neon lights reflecting on the shoveled lake surface. The fireworks would begin when they turned off the multicolored spotlights on the castle, usually around eleven.

      Daisy poured Beck a cup of hot chocolate that she had made before going to help her neighbor with her stove. The brew smelled so good, she took a sip before handing Beck his cup.

      “Had to check,” she said. “Make sure it’s not too hot for you.”

      “Thank you, mother.”

      “Hey, I’m a chocolate freak, so you know. And I don’t share my chocolate with just anyone.”

      “Then I’m honored. To sharing.” He tilted his cup against hers, and they drank the toast.

      “What?” Beck stared at the cup, mouth open in awe. “This is...” He took another sip, eyes closed and a satisfied murmur rising. “This is the most amazing stuff I’ve ever tasted.”

      Daisy bristled with pride. “Why thank you. It’s a recipe from my aunt Kambriel.”

      “Did she steal it from the gods?”

      Daisy chuckled. “Actually, one of her friends works at Angelina in Paris. It’s a ritzy place known for its decadent hot chocolate. The recipe is a lot of work, but in the winter I make it at least once a month and freeze it for emergencies. It’s necessary to me, like breathing.”

      “I love it. I love you. I love your aunt. Do you think she’d marry me?”

      “She’s getting married to a handsome vampire this summer.”

      “That’s too bad for me. What about you?”

      “A marriage proposal on our first date?”

      Beck sipped again, his eyes closing in bliss. “Yes, please?”

      “You stick with love for the hot chocolate for now. I’ll reconsider your offer at a later date. Besides, love is so easy.”

      “You think so? I suppose I did confess love kind of quickly. But seriously, are there witches in your family? I think you’ve put some magic in this hot chocolate.”

      “No witchcraft. No even a smidge of faery magic. Just tender loving care. Love it all you like. You can even love me if you want to. Because the real challenge is in liking a person.”

      “How so?”

      Daisy pulled up her knees to her chest and held the hot cup beneath her face. The scent was heady. “When you like someone,” she explained, “you enjoy spending time with them. You can hold conversations and never get bored of what the other is saying. Or you can just be next to one another in silence and not feel the need to talk. You tolerate their