Page 16 of Wickedly Yours

It might not have been the only reason people stopped in—plenty of folks stopped for Willow’s cold brewsbecause she made one hell of a cup of coffee—but we sold out of sconesalmost every morning. And when I made my pumpkin cookies, they sold by the dozen.

Still… I didn’t think anyone would object too much if there was another person back here. Especially if I taught them my trade secrets.

I frowned. “Maybe I should hire another baker.”

“Not a bad idea,” she agreed. “I have a friend who’s in college right now, but she’s working part-time at a bakery up there. I could see if she’s interested in starting in the spring after she graduates.”

I nodded. “I’ll definitely keep that in mind.”

My conversation with Zain popped into my head.

About the future and how I’d been feeling unfulfilled lately. Maybe this was what I needed. Someone to share the load, so I could have days off. Or, maybe one day, we could hire a cafe manager and have someone else run the shop entirely. Would Willow be disappointed in me?

Would I be disappointed in myself?

And that didn’t answer the big question… What did I want? What would I do if it wasn’t this? Maybe I just needed to expand my dream. After all, I wanted more, but that was what everyone said. There was always somethingmoreto want. I just wanted to be content. Happy.

I worked for a few more hours in the back as Eryne took orders and made coffee. The delicious smell wafted back until finally, I gave in, getting myself a cup and sitting at a table near the windows. They looked out into downtown, letting me admire the decorated front of our store with the pastel bats and pumpkins I’d painted pink, along with lights and fake cobwebs.

The town was bustling with activity, even though Halloween was still a little over two weeks away. For a town of witches, we got really into it. I smiled to myself, thinking aboutall the All Hallows' Eves of the past. Ones with Willow and my parents, and then just us as we’d gotten older. They were memories I’d cherished.

Memories I hoped to one day share with a family of my own. If that ever happened.

Was that what I wanted? What I was missing?

Yes.I shut my eyes, trying to ignore how desperately that want surged through my body.

“I’m heading out,” I said to Eryne as I brushed past her once my cup was empty. “You okay here alone?”

She gave me a smile and a nod. It wasn’t very busy this late in the afternoon, and now that the rush was over, I knew she could handle it. The dishes in the sink were clean, now just needed to dry and to be put away later.

“Just call me if you need anything. I’ll be upstairs.”

Even with that, the idea of going back to my empty apartment was almost unthinkable.

Selene would cuddle with me on the couch, and we could catch up on one of my favorite shows, but that just sounded lonely. Maybe I’d curl up with a romance book for a few hours.

Even if I never found true love, at least I could experience it through someone else.

Two nights later, I once again sat at the bar, nursing another cocktail. Though this one didn’t have a fun Halloween name, at least it still tasted good. And it was strong. Plus, it was as close to pink as I was going to get.

He’d never calledortexted. Maybe he’d lost the piece of paper? The other thought that flashed through my mind sent disappointment surging through me. Maybe he hadn’t felt the connection that night the same way I had.

So, I was giving myself one last night to wallow on it, and then I was moving on.

I was tough—it would be okay. I’d been alone for this long. I’d survive a little longer.

“Pretty girl like you sitting at a bar all alone makes a guy wonder,” a deep voice said from behind my back.

My body warmed at his presence. I couldn’t see him, but Iknew. There was no mistaking that baritone. The little sparks that danced on my skin whenever he was around.

“Wonder what?” I murmured, not turning around.

He didn’t respond to that, just slid onto the barstool next to me.

“You came back,” I finally said. I was aware I was staring at his face, eyes focused on the dark hair of his trimmed beard, but I couldn’t look away. He was here.

Zain washere.

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