Page 16 of Witch Upon a Star
Quinten: You’re not a god. I don’t know what it is you can or cannot do and I don’t care. Lock your damn door. I’ll be there in about forty minutes.
My entire body shuddered, and I swore my ovaries just hung an Open for Business sign outside my vagina. This was going to be the longest forty minutes of my life, followed by the longest four hours of my life.
I wasn’t sure I was going to survive.
Like me,Quinten was dressed in jeans and an older-looking shirt. He wasn’t wearing a jacket. Instead, he had on a long-sleeve shirt under his cut and a backpack slung over his shoulder. As his video had instructed on Saturday, I was a good girl and locked my front door. But the sound of his motorcycle gave away his arrival before my gift had.
Gods, he was tall. And all those muscles. Unfortunately, I spent so much of my time admiring and pleasuring myself to his videos that the sight of his body so close to me now made me lust drunk. It took me far too long to fiddle with the lock to get it turned so I could open the door for him.
My voice came out breathless as I greetedhim. “Hi.”
He put his arm on the doorframe, towering over me and giving me a peek of the hard muscle between his belt and the bottom of his shirt. “Hi.”
My heart wouldn’t stop racing. This wassoa bad idea. I hadn’t wanted my parents here to chaperone, but now that Quinten was here, that was starting to feel like a poor decision on my part. Without them here, I wasn’t sure I could control myself.
His dark eyes stared down at mine, making me think of coffee beans and snowy evenings by the fireplace. He had a unique aroma about him, a mixture of sweet, earthy tones, masculine musk, and motor oil. I wanted to drown in it, rub my face all over his chest like a cat and coat myself in his scent.
Quinten raised a dark eyebrow. “Are you planning on letting me in?”
I jumped. Flushing, I mentally kicked myself for just standing there, staring up at him. I wasnotplaying this cool. Fuck. “Shit, sorry.” I quickly backed away so he could enter.
As he stepped inside, taking in the mess that was my store, I couldn’t help but wonder his thoughts. Closing the door, I flipped the lock again.
I scrambled forward towards my counter. The large area was perfect for my store because it wasn’t set up with separate rooms. Right now, both sides of my walls were bare because my shelves were still in pieces and the center of my store was covered in closed and open boxes. Behind my counter, I wanted to put my honey and some local baked goods. I’d already talked to Mabel at the bakery about supplying some.
The other shelves would be filled with books, trinkets,and novelties, like my beeswax candles and essential oils. Comfy seating areas would fill the middle of the room and I would have my tarot section towards the back.
The door to my storage room was also behind my counter. I currently was using Cuppa Joe’s litter box to prop it open.
I scooped Oolong off my counter top next to the register I still hadn’t set up. At least I finally got my Wi-Fi working last week.
“I know it’s a mess,” I hastily said, a note of apology in my voice. I cuddled my dragon to my chest. “The biggest delay is getting my shelves built and secured to the walls. Once that’s done, the rest should fall into place.”
“Don’t worry about it. That’s why I’m here.” Quinten gently set his backpack down. He barely moved the zipper before a black cat head popped up through the open hole. She yowled a protest for being confined so much. “I’m not even going to ask how you knew she was giving me a hard time about being left behind,” he said as he lifted his cat out of the backpack. “But thank you for letting me bring her. This is Cuppa Joe.”
I smiled and lifted my dragon off my chest to show him. “And this is Oolong.”
“Oolong?” he asked. He settled Joe on his shoulder, and with the ease she went, I knew this was a normal routine for them. She was entirely black but for the white socks on her feet.
“You’re really going to question my dragon’s name when your cat is ‘Cuppa Joe’?”
“Touché,” he conceded. “Favorite tea?”
I nodded. I pointed to the small rolling cart I had set upearlier that morning. “I don’t drink coffee, but I set that up for you.”
Quinten wandered over, a look of curiosity on his face. He picked up one of the pods. “These are allStarbucksblends.”
Blushing, I nodded again, but said nothing.
“Uh, thanks,” he said awkwardly before putting the pod back. He did not, however, make himself a cup of coffee as I was hoping he would. Turning, he paused. He was standing to the left of the counter with the cart next to the open door that led to my storage room. “Is that a litter box?”
“Yes.”
His eyebrows drew down slightly. “Do bearded dragons use litter boxes?”
“Some can,” I answered. For the most part, they didn’t because litter boxes were too big for them. Oolong was trained to do a little dance for me. I would put out a tissue, he would do his business, and then I’d toss the tissue. Done and done.
Quinten faced me fully. “Does Oolong?”
