13
Damn. Damn, damn, damn, damn, damn, damn, DAMN.
Colin took the turns down the side of the hill way too fast, tires screeching on more than one curve. When he hit Cottonwood, however, he retained just enough of his senses to realize that he’d better not be calling attention to himself like that, not when he was still processing half a bottle of wine, not to mention the glass of port he’d had with dessert. Ending up in the local drunk tank would really be the cherry on the cake of his evening.
Where the hell had that come from?
Because apparently Jenny McAllister was a witch who could read minds. Or something like that. Why she hadn’t learned the truth about him long ago, Colin had no idea. Maybe her powers weren’t completely consistent. Or maybe she could only see into his mind after
