Page 20 of Boss Witch

With a light tremor in her hands, she pulled a foldable shopping bag out of her backpack, willing her body to settle down.Fuck, this is bad.

But fucking would feel so good, her wicked side argued.And I bet it would distract him even more.

Oh, hell no.What was she supposed to do if her magic flared in flagrante delicto?Bad brain. Think about something else. Like, when should I give him the mouse I’m hiding in my room?

Mentally scolding herself, she put the berries in the sack then handed them over. “Here you go. I expect you to keep your promise,” she joked.

“I’ll definitely make a delicious parfait for you.”

Okay, now “make a delicious parfait” would take up permanent residence in her brain, replacing “Netflix and chill” as a euphemism for sex. Maybe she ought to put it on Urban Dictionary so others could enjoy the update. Belatedly, Clem realized she needed to stop thinking about fucking Gavin Rhys and make some sensible response.

“When?”

“Lunch today?” he suggested, silver-­gray eyes bright as moonlight and just as hopeful.

Clem wished she could green-­light the suggestive promises she saw flickering in his eyes like summer lightning, but Gram had sent her a message because she wanted to talk about Danica.I’m so fucking tired of family drama.She didn’t enjoy being used, whoever was trying it on, not even when it was her beloved grandmother.

“I wish I could. I’m meeting Gram this afternoon.” That was a wholesome activity, right? Nothing suspicious about a woman hanging out with her grandma.

No witches here, no sir.

“Tomorrow then? I’ll take you to a late lunch after work and to my place for dessert.”

Clem had already turned, ready to hustle over to the shop, but the husky tone of his voice stopped her in her tracks. His stare was so heated and intense that she bit her lip, and his gaze focused on her mouth. Her heart kicked into overdrive, making her a little light-­headed. If she accepted, it meant sex was certainly on the table, and she wasn’t sure if her self-­control would allow her to leave without—­

“Yes,” she said.

“Yes to…the whole plan?”

She nodded. “Lunch wherever you like, and then dessert at your house. I’d like to see your rental anyway. I’ll text you the shop address later. Meet me at two. That’s when I hand things over to my cousin.”

Yeah, she was outright avoiding him finding out the name of their business because she didn’t entirely trust her own poker face where Gavin was concerned. He might be able to tease out some hint of the secrets she was desperately trying to conceal and that couldnothappen. Her coven sisters were counting on her.

“You work from nine to two, Monday through Saturday, off Sunday.”

“Yep. Are you memorizing my schedule?”

“Would it be weird if I said yes?”

“A little, but it’s also flattering, so I’ll give you a pass on the excessive interest. It only shakes out to around thirty hours a week. Danica puts in more time overall because she closes out the accounts, deals with the financial angle, and handles invoicing for all clients. I do online stuff and manage our social media. Often, I’m trying to think of funny stuff to post related to the business even at night, and I count it as work too.”

“Definitely,” he agreed. “Never thought of it before, but running a small business requires you to wear a lot of hats.”

And that’s not even counting the witchy one.

Not that she owned the sort of thing that generally made up a mundane-­inspired witch costume for Halloween. No black hat, no bell-­shaped dress or pointy shoes either.

“Thanks for noticing. Now I really have to get to work.” Impulsively, she kissed his cheek, and holy shit.

His skin felt incredible, sun-­warmed and rough with stubble. It required all her self-­control not to nuzzle a path to his mouth and just start making out in the middle of the square. Another bad idea, as businesses were opening all around them.

“I’ll message you,” he said.

Clem lifted a hand and sauntered off without revealing how tough it was not to turn around and blow kisses like a lovesick kid.

Since she was a few minutes late, she had a pair of customers waiting, both elderly women who often fritzed their devices without having a clue what they’d done wrong. Fortunately, they loved gossiping with each other, so Clem set them up out front with two cups of coffee and left them to chat while she got to work. At Fix-­it Witches, they tried not to keep gadgets overnight because often people would lose patience and buy a new one. That led to a semilucrative side hustle where they sold refurbished items online, but overall, it was simpler to fix stuff straightaway and return it as fast as possible.

Hopefully, Gavin won’t feel me power up my magic.A chill swept over her. It would be fine; the wards should hold.

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