Page 35 of Hex and the Kitty

5pm works. Should I be worried?

He wanted to reassure her, to shield her from concern, but respect for her intelligence and abilities won out.

Cautious, not worried. You’re capable and your magic is strong. But it seems the saboteur may be expanding their targets.

Three dots appeared as she typed, disappeared, then reappeared.

Because of our connection? The “fake” dating that’s feeling less fake by the minute?

The perceptiveness of her question struck him. In just a few dates, she’d seen through his carefully constructed walls, recognizing the truth he’d only recently admitted to himself.

Yes.

He added after a moment:

Nothing about my interest in you is fake, Molly.

The vulnerability of the admission sent an unfamiliar sensation through him—a mixture of fear and liberation. In three centuries, he’d rarely allowed himself such honesty.

Her response made his breath catch:

Good. Because my measuring spoons only dance for people I genuinely care about. See you at 5. I’ll be the one with the attack rolling pin ready.

A laugh escaped him—an actual laugh that echoed through his office. He could picture her, flour-dusted and determined, brandishing a rolling pin against potential threats. His tiger rumbled with pride. She might not recognize him as her mate yet, but she was certainly worthy of one.

David appeared in the doorway, eyebrows nearly reaching his hairline. “Was that... a laugh? From you? Should I check for signs of possession?”

Warrick schooled his features, though the warmth in his chest remained. “Reed’s on his way.”

“Just pulled up.” David studied him with open curiosity. “You texting Molly?”

“She may have received a magical ‘gift’ similar to our foam incident.”

David’s expression sobered. “That changes things. The saboteur is expanding.”

“Which means we need to catch them. Soon.” Warrick moved toward the door. “I’m heading to the bakery at five.”

“To check on Molly or to sample more pastries?” David asked, a faint smile returning.

“Both.”

“He admits it!” David clapped a hand to his chest in mock shock. “The stoic tiger shifter acknowledges having a sweet tooth—and I don’t think it’s for the baked goods.”

Warrick rolled his eyes, but didn’t deny it. What was the point? His tiger had made its choice three nights ago, purring with satisfaction when Molly’s fingers brushed his over exotic ingredients, roaring with certainty when her magic responded to his presence.

He’d found his mate after three centuries of going from city to city. Now he just needed to keep her safe while giving her time to recognize what he already knew with bone-deep certainty—they belonged together.

Sheriff Reed’s cruiser had pulled up outside, visible through the window. David headed out to meet him, leaving Warrick alone with his thoughts.

His gaze fell on the pastry box from Molly, her handwritten note still visible. Such a simple gesture—breakfast pastries for firefighters—yet it represented everything that drew him to her. Generosity. Thoughtfulness. The desire to bring joy to others.

For three years, he’d wandered without roots, without home. Now, in this small town with its quirky magic and meddling witches, he’d found what his tiger had always sought—a mate whose magic complemented his strength, whose heart matched his own.

He would not lose her to petty sabotage or jealous rivals. Whatever came next—pink foam, phantom flames, or worse—he would face it. For his station. For this town that was becoming home.

And for Molly, the witch who’d captured his heart with nothing more powerful than cinnamon-dusted apple turnovers and a smile that made three centuries of solitude fade into distant memory.

TWENTY-SEVEN

---