Page 5 of Witch Please

“If you’d stop feeding him—”

“We don’t,” Danica said with faint exasperation, as the old woman who lived four houses down seemed convinced they were plotting to lure away her feline companion. “We have never once fed this cat.”

“Well, I didn’t even know he’d gotten out. Can you wait for me to come after him?”

Sighing, she counted to ten. “Yes, I’ll wait.”

The cat stared at her accusingly once she disconnected the call, green eyes wounded.

“What?” Danica demanded. Lowering her voice, she added, “You’re not my familiar. I don’t need one, and even if I did, it wouldn’t be a cat.”

Goliath seemed to shrug and started grooming himself, the cat equivalent ofSuit yourself.It was more like twenty minutes before Hazel showed up, and she barely said two words to Danica while baby-talking the hell out of Goliath, who stared longingly over Hazel’s shoulder as she carried him off.

Awesome, now I’m late. People will be cranky if I’m not back by two, like the sign says.

Quickly Danica got on her bike and headed for Sugar Daddy’s. It was a gorgeous day, great weather for late July, and the heat wasn’t sweltering. Sometimes the humidity made it worse, but not today. The bakery was dead cute, a bright spot amid earth tones, and inside, there was a queue of people waiting to clean out the pastry case. A young woman flashed her a cheerful smile as the bell rang, signaling her entry.

“Have a look and I’ll be with you presently,” she said.

“I’m here to check your oven, actually.” Danica didn’t rule out buying baked goods afterward, if the line thinned while she was working.

“Oh!” For some reason, the clerk studied her closely before breaking into an overly wide smile. “Go on back. Titus has been waiting for you.”

I’m missing something here.

She wondered if she’d get to see him all geared up in his baker’s outfit, kneading dough with strong hands, flexing forearms—okay, enough of that—but nah. It seemed like the baking happened much earlier, maybe before the shop opened. Sugar Daddy’s only stayed open until everything was sold, and some days, that was amazingly early. People queued for the cinnamon rolls before the doors were even unlocked.

He was perched on a stool, reading, and the whole kitchen sparkled. She’d never seen so much gleaming stainless steel; no health code violations here. Which was a weird thing to find sexy. But the smell—even without anything delicious in the industrial ovens, the space still held hints of sweetness: cinnamon and sugar, butter and vanilla.

“What’re you reading?” she asked.

Startled, he juggled the book and then dropped it, so it landed with the pink cover up, showing a cute cartoon-style drawing of a man and woman locked together in an embrace. She read the title with awe.

Okay, this is a setup. If it’s not, then he’s the perfect man.

Color tinged his cheekbones. “Err, um…”

“We read this last month for book club. It’s so fun! Have you gotten to the part when—wait, no, that’s a spoiler, I can’t ask you that.”

Crap, I’m babbling again. What is it about this guy that opens my trap like I’m a dang boa constrictor?That thought prompted a whole bunch of disturbing oral sex ideas, and she locked that avenue of thought down like the Canadian prime minister was visiting.

Be professional, dammit.

“You’re not going to make fun of me?”

“For what?”

“Reading romance novels.”

“Ofcoursenot. I don’t know any guys in real life who do, but I have male friends online who occasionally Skype into book club to chat, and they’re really cool.”

“The book club or your online friends?”

“Uh, both? Anyway, I’m being inefficient again. Is that still working for you?”

“More than you might expect,” he said with a smile so powerful that she almost shielded her face from the glow.

“Awesome. Which oven is giving you trouble?” If she concentrated, she’d be able to sense the flaw on her own, but she couldn’t do that in front of witnesses. In fact, she needed him out of the room for a while.

---