Page 50 of Hex and the Kitty

“She can multitask,” Roarke shrugged. “Apparently your romantic saga provides excellent entertainment during potion brewing.”

“Better than those supernatural romance novels she stocks behind the counter,” Kade added with a snort.

“The entire town’s invested now,” David said, betrayal evident in his grin. “My wife stopped me yesterday to ask when you’re making an honest witch of Molly.”

The unexpected phrase—making an honest witch of Molly—triggered a cascade of images in Warrick’s mind: Molly in white, flowers woven through her curls. Molly with his grandmother’s ring. Molly in his home, not as a visitor but as its heart. His tiger paced restlessly beneath his skin, agitated by desires he’d kept leashed too long.

“Whoa,” Lark’s eyebrows rose. “You went somewhere intense just now, Shaw. Your eyes practically glowed.”

Warrick blinked, forcing his tiger’s response down. “The beer’s stronger than I expected.”

“Right,” Reed said dryly. “The beer.”

“Can we focus on something other than my personal life?” Warrick growled.

Bram grinned, flashing teeth slightly too sharp to be fully human. “Why? It’s the most interesting development since Kade howled during his wedding vows.”

“That was a traditional wolf shifter tribute,” Kade protested amid laughter.

“That nearly shattered the stained glass,” Roarke countered.

“At least Celeste appreciated it,” Kade huffed. “Unlike some mates who criticize traditional displays of affection.”

“Speaking of mates and traditional displays,” Bram flexed one massive arm casually, “none of you lightweights can match a bear’s devotion to pregnant partners.”

The table’s energy shifted instantly, competitive instincts redirecting.

“What incredible feat did you perform?” Lark challenged, leaning forward. “Because last week, I rebuilt Sera’s entire greenhouse in a single night when frost threatened her rare herbs.”

“Amateur,” Bram scoffed. “I carved a custom birthing chair from a hundred-year-old oak. With my claws. Then lined it with the softest fur harvested during my spring shed.”

Falkor, typically reserved, surprised them all by joining in. “I constructed an ancient dragon comfort nest for Briar using heated stones that maintain perfect temperature regardless of weather.”

“That’s nothing,” Kade boasted. “When Celeste carried Amara, she mentioned missing the tropical fruit from her childhood home. I ran—in wolf form—two hundred miles to the specialty importer at the coast, then carried thirty pounds of mangoes, papayas, and star fruit back before she woke up.”

“The whole town smelled you coming,” Reed said with a rare smile. “Sweaty wolf and overripe fruit.”

“Worth it,” Kade declared. “Celeste cried happy tears for an hour.”

“What about you, Roarke?” Lark prompted. “Any ridiculous gestures planned for Daisy?”

“I’ve already soundproofed our bedroom walls with specialized panther-hearing-safe materials,” Roarke admitted. “Daisy snores when she sleeps on her back. She doesn’t know yet.”

“Reed?” Falkor turned to the sheriff. “Your contribution?”

The stoic tiger shifter’s expression softened imperceptibly. “Commissioned a magical mural for the nursery walls from Luna. Changes scenes based on Asher’s mood to help him sleep. Still works now that he’s older—shows his dreams while he rests.”

As the outlandish tales continued, Warrick’s mind drifted. Not away from the conversation, but deeper—into possibilities he’d previously barricaded behind centuries of caution.

He saw Molly, green eyes bright with unshed tears, revealing a pregnancy. His tiger curling protectively around her at night, one large paw resting gently on her growing belly to feel the cub’s movements. Himself rushing out at midnight to find the exact ingredients for her peculiar magical cravings. The Bewitched Bakery temporarily closed while he insisted she rest, only to find her secretly baking in their home kitchen, flour dusting her nose, stubbornly independent despite his protective instincts.

The clarity of these visions startled him—detailed, vibrant, and achingly desirable. Not abstract possibilities but tangible futures his soul recognized. His tiger rumbled approval so strongly, the sound nearly vibrated in his chest.

“Earth to Warrick,” David waved a hand before his face. “You disappeared on us. Again”

Warrick blinked, returning to the brewery’s warmth and his friends’ curious stares.

“If I didn’t know better,” Kade said slowly, “I’d say you were imagining Molly pregnant with your cub.”

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