Page 61 of Bewitched & Bewildered
I can’t believe I’m letting myself get wrapped up in this again. Knowing I want Juniper differs from allowing myself to have her—or anything close to a relationship. The game of cat and mouse is too fun for me to stop, even though I know I’m headed into dangerous territory.
One wrong move and my heart is on the cutting board. Losing my first love made me feel like I lost myself. I don’t think I can take that again.
But this? Juniper doesn’t want me. This is safe. It’s a game for her, and I can pretend it is for me, too.
OZAN
Why would hewantto see me again? I made a fool of myself with that potion.
I’ve done everything I can to push him away. It doesn’t work. And, okay, I don’t want it to anymore—but I need it to. Whatever happened last night is over. I got it out of my system.
There’s no way the effects of the potion are still lingering today. No matter how strong I made it, itcan’tlast overnight.
Why am I hot and flustered when I arrive at my apothecary? Why are there butterflies in my stomach? Why am I utterly frustrated? The last feeling lets me know it’s not the potion at all. It’s Ozan. He found another yet way to frustrate me.
I’m sure it would bring him tremendous joy to know he is now the object of my deepest desires.
The feelings fade into the background as hours pass.
I spend another day pretending to be my mother. That’s how I feel. It wasn’t the intention of opening the shop. I wanted to feel closer to her, but I don’t.
She never felt like this during her days at the shop. She couldn’t wait to talk to customers, decorate the shop for each occasion, and plan events. When I’m here, I don’t carry the same fire. I let the day coast by.
Our first big event is coming up, and I’ve barely planned for it. The Harvest Festival is important in Starbrook. I know that, but I don’t do anything to help us prepare.
Instead, my sisters take the lead. They do a fantastic job—better than I can muster.
As Halloween draws closer, the shop picks up. I sell a few tarot decks, spell candles, and crystals to people trying to get in the spirit of the season. None of them are witches, but human clientele is as important.
They may be even more essential. Witches can make their spell candles and potions on their own. They can charm their tea. Often, they buy from us for convenience, but they don’tneedme to make magic for them.
Lunch comes, and Laurel takes her shift behind the counter, leaving me to duck into our little office. I pull out my thermos of chicken soup, inhaling the scent of thyme and rosemary as I screw off the top.
Maple made me soup even though I insisted I wasn’treallysick. Hopefully, it will cure whatever feelings are plaguing me.
This is officially going to be my favorite part of the day. I lift the steaming mug to my lips, preparing for a delicious sip. Footsteps enter the shop, but I pay it no mind as muffled words pass through the door.
A small, warm slurp of broth hits my tongue. I close my eyes, sighing happily.
The bliss—not from a potion this time—is cut short.
“Juniper!” Laurel calls, with glee in her lilted voice. “Someone is here to see you.”
Terrific. It must be a customer asking about a potion. I sigh and push my chair back, prepared to join her in the main room.
Before I can, a large hand shoves away the curtains at the door, and Ozan’s hulking figure steps inside. He shoves his hands into his pockets, peering at me with a bewildered look.
He’s already been in the office. He’s been in the basement. Ozan has been all over the shop. Why does he look like he doesn’t belong?
“You said I could come by,” he says.
I lift a brow. “I said you can come if you’re a paying customer. What are you going to buy?”
“I haven’t decided yet. I want to see you first.”
“I’m eating.” I lift the thermos.
“You interrupted my lunch yesterday.”
