Page 4 of Witch Please

Titus savored the six-block walk back to the bakery. He loved downtown St. Claire, full of historic buildings that had been restored with loving care. Shops and small restaurants lined the streets around the old courthouse, built in 1873 in Romanesque Revival style, red brick and cream stone. There had been a minor kerfuffle when Titus had wanted to paint his shop mint green, but eventually, he had gotten approval, and a few other shops had followed suit, offering a splash of color amid somber tones.

His logo was a line drawing of a man holding a plate of cupcakes with red letters that read YOUR CAKE IS DONE. When he stepped inside, the bakery smelled of sugar and cinnamon, hints of fruit with a touch of cream. For a moment, he studied his younger sister, Maya, dressed in mint green and chocolate brown with a white apron over polo and slacks, as she boxed up a selection of pastries.

Their mother had picked out the staff uniforms, helped him secure the bank loan, and been pushy about the decorative touches, including the fancy white-iron bistro tables. This business wouldn’t exist without her, and she’d been tireless in helping him achieve his dream. Even the bakery name had been her idea, as Titus had planned to call it Best Buns. Thankfully she’d talked him out of that.

Not a day went by that he didn’t miss her.

Once the customer left, Maya said, “You’re finally back. What took you so long?”

Titus smiled. “I met the woman I’m going to marry.”

Chapter 2

As promised, Danica finished half of the work orders by lunchtime.

She changed the sign on the front door to one that read BACK BY and set the time to two. That was long enough to eat, tidy up, and check out the CinnaMan’s oven.Still can’t believe I acted like such a dork.Fortunately, her babbling didn’t seem to put him off the notion of hiring them. It had been an act of supreme self-control not to run and hide after the juicer went Fruit Vesuvius on her.

Her bike was parked out front, seafoam green in vintage style with a basket on the front complete with fake flowers. It was ridiculous, and she loved it, especially since they lived just under a mile away, close enough to commute without a car, and right now, Clem had the one they shared for longer trips. Riding back and forth qualified as exercise. Just as well, because Danica wasn’t prone to working out otherwise.

She waved to people as she pedaled home to the jonquil-yellow craftsman house that she and Clem had bought from Gram for a song. Danica adored it from top to bottom, from the covered porch to the deep dormer to the wooden swing on copper chains. She wasn’t prepared for the slender, silver-haired woman perched on said swing. Honestly, Gram was age goals; she had on white linen slacks and a sky-blue twin set, and she made porch lurking stylish.

Danica’s grandmother was a snowbird who lived in a retirement community in Citrus Hills, Florida, for most of the year, but she spent July and August catching up with old friends and spending quality time with her granddaughters in St. Claire. Since she had still had lots of former coven sisters in town, one of them was always willing to rent her a room for the summer. Gram could afford her own place, but she was always trying to help, so she stayed with someone who was struggling with bills or on a fixed income.

While Danica wasn’t prepared for a chat and didn’t have much time either, she was glad to see her grandmother. She leaned in for a hug, closing her eyes at the familiar smell of lavender and mint. “You have a key. Why didn’t you let yourself in?”

“That would be rude, sweetheart. When you two bought the place, it ceased being mine and became yours. Love what you’ve done with the flower beds.”

“That’s all Kerry and Priya,” she admitted. “I don’t have much time. I need to shower and grab lunch, then I have—”

“Yes, yes. You’re busy.” Gram took her hands to soften the interruption. “And I’m on my way to lunch as well. Meeting some old friends. But I wanted to touch base. I saw some photos online…” The pause indicated that she didn’t quite know how to put this. “Again, I’m so sorry. I’ve said this before, but I genuinely thought Darryl was a fine young man—that he’d make you happy. I had no idea things would end up like this.”

“It’s fine.” It really wasn’t.

In all honesty, she had only been dating Darryl because he fit the profile. He came from a pure witch family, and Gram approved. It had been two blissful years of Gram asking how her “young man” was and otherwise staying out of Danica’s business. A few weeks after Danica and Darryl broke up, Darryl and Raquel happened, which started Gram on a campaign to get Danica to set up a profile on Bindr to find a “proper” mate. She rued the day she’d taught Gram how to use a smartphone.

“With all the filters on Bindr, I’ve found better candidates this time,” Gram promised. She stood and gave Danica a warm hug, patting her back. “I’m relieved to see that you look well, if a trifle harried. I’ll let you go about your business. The ladies are expecting me for food and gossip, and then I’m helping Gladys with the Lughnasadh.”

“We’ll visit soon,” Danica promised.

Gram headed out with a flutter of her fingers, and within moments, a rideshare appeared at the curb.

Whew.Gram meant well, but Danica was in no mood to talk about dating with her.

Danica left her bike out front and let herself in with a flick of her wrist. This was her home ground, and the place was warded against intruders, acclimated to Waterhouse magic for three generations. Mostly she didn’t need to worry about spell malfunctions here.

She and Clem had updated the decor, and the place was clean and modern now. They’d bickered about the cream walls; Danica had gotten her way about that, but Clem had won the argument about painting the woodwork, so it was still dark and natural, and Danica had grown to appreciate the contrast.

She took her shoes off just inside the front door to protect the floors and jogged upstairs to wash off the pineapple residue.I’ve smelled like a damn piña colada all day.Danica made it quick and dressed in a better outfit than the one Titus had already seen. This time, she chose her clothes with care in well-fitted shorts and a red-gauze top; then she hurried downstairs to make a sandwich. The fact that he was a mundane didn’t eliminate her appreciation of his hotness and his awkward humor; flirting was chicken soup for the witch’s soul. Or whatever. At any rate, her ego could use the boost.

At least the hangover is gone.

Checking the time, Danica dashed out the door and found a lanky ginger cat lounging on her front porch. First Gram, now this. “Go home, Goliath.”

The cat flashed her a supercilious look, then sashayed pointedly away and hopped up on the swing as if to say,You can’t make me.This jerk practically lived at their house; she even had his owner in her contacts. With a sigh, she made the call.

“Hello?” Hazel Jeffords answered on the first ring.

“Goliath is on my porch again, if you were looking for him.”

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