Chapter 4
When the bell chimed, I couldn’t have picked up my phone fast enough, fumbling with it to turn off the music.
It was not only a Tuesday, but the slowest part of the day, and I wasn’t expecting anyone.
An exceptionally tall man strolled in with snowy blonde hair, a matching beard, and the fiercest, glacially blue eyes I’d ever seen.
His skin was paler, but the winter-themed full sleeve tattoo wrapped around his right arm stood out more because of it.
He wore nothing but a t-shirt and jeans, seemingly unaffected by the chilly temperature.
In fact, he pulled at the collar of his shirt as if it were stuffy in here.
My throat turned to sandpaper at the sight of him.
“Hi, hello,” I managed to stammer out, clutching the straps of my apron for support.
The man drew nearer, and I had to gulp back a gasp at the sight of his pointed ears. I’d only ever seen elves in the Cove, but his—his were fae ears. “It isn’t possible,” he whispered, his eyes flaring open as if he was confused by something.
Any flutters I’d felt during his entrance had morphed into my own bout of confusion. “I’m sorry? What isn’t possible?”
The man squinted one eye at me, shoved his hands in his pockets, and began to peruse the shop. “Is this your establishment?”
Narrowing my eyes at him, I shifted from behind the counter to watch him. “Yes. Are you with the media or something?”
“No. I’m new in town.” The man picked up a tin, opened the lid, and sniffed the packaged mints inside, grimacing.
I’d gotten close enough to him now that I could see just how blue his eyes really were. He smelled like snow, vanilla, and pine, and it was turning my brain into tantalizing static. “Oh? What brought you to the Cove?”
He set the tin back on its shelf, not bothering to put the lid on. Crossing his arms, making his arms bulge, he brushed past me. “A woman.”
I’d been in the middle of re-attaching the lid when a peculiar zing surged through my stomach, making me drop it instead. “Any, uh, any one in particular?”
His gaze fell to the lid on the floor. I half expected him to pick it up, but instead he pointed and said, “You dropped that,” before turning and slowly making his way to the counter.
Letting out an indignant snort, I snatched the lid, secured it, and followed him to the display case. “I’m Sylvie, by the way. Were you also looking to satisfy a sweet tooth, potentially?”
“Not particularly,” he mumbled, sweat pooling on his forehead. He wiped it away, his shirt suddenly growing soaked over his chest and down the length of his stomach. “Winter’s night, why is it so hot in here?”
My thighs pinched together at the more visible view of his pecs and abs from the shirt becoming slightly transparent.
I snapped my gaze back to his drenched face.
“It’s a bakery. There are ovens in the kitchen.
” I jutted my thumb behind me, a small smile cresting my lips.
“Should I be worried about you melting or something?”
His eyebrows shot up, and he rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m not a snowman,” he replied haughtily.
Holding my hands up defensively, I tilted my head at him. “I meant no offense, though that was oddly specific.”
His gaze suddenly became transfixed on my hair, roaming where my ears were snuggled and hidden beneath it. I fanned my fingers over it to ensure they were still covered, and he paid special attention to my movements. “Do you have a name?”
“Yes,” he answered.
If my cheeks were capable of flushing, they would’ve had my skin turning a deep crimson. “Don’t care to tell me what it is?”
The man sucked in a breath and pointed at a tray of vanilla cupcakes with blue frosting. “Can I get one of those?”
“I thought you said you didn’t have a sweet tooth?” Grasping the silver tray with my fingertips, I dragged it across the counter, holding it captive between us.
He stepped closer, pressing his palms to the countertop. From this angle, I could tell how truly tall he was—he towered over me. “Call it curiosity.”
“Sure.” Keeping our eyes locked, I slowly pushed the tray toward him, but as he lifted a hand to grab one, I yanked it back. “If you tell me your name, I’ll even give it to you for free.”
When he reached for it, his arm lingered near a small candle I kept lit at the corner of the counter, and he winced, shifting away from it. “Do names mean that much to you?”
Eyeing the bouncing candle flame for a moment, I shifted my gaze back to him. “In a small town like Arcane Cove, names are everything.”
A devious smirk curved his lips, and he drummed his fingers on the counter. “Jack.”
Fireflies danced in my stomach. I gulped down a snowball forming in my throat. “Just Jack?”
Jack’s eyes lowered to my throat, bobbing and lazily brought his gaze back to mine. “For now.”
Keeping true to my word, I picked up one cupcake and sprinkled my white-and-blue magic over it, swirling dust and sparkles until it settled into the frosting. I held it out to him. “Here you are.”
His upper lip curled back, and he circled a finger around the treat. “What did you do? Drug it somehow?”
Gasping, I dropped my hand, the cupcake coming with it. “What? No. It’s magic. That’s what I do here. It’s not just baked goods. I lace them with spells to cure what ails customers.”
Jack squinted at me and combed his beard with his fingers. “And you think you know what ails me?”
No one, not a soul, had ever questioned my aptitude for working spells. I flicked my fingernail on my apron strap. “It might not be some cure-all or something, but I promise if you take a bite, it’ll make you feel better.” Offering the cupcake again, I managed a tiny smile.
Jack stared at it for a solid beat before taking it between two fingers. He didn’t eat any, however, and tossed it in his palm with a nod. “I’ll save it for a rainy day.”
Disappointment deflated me. I wanted to see him take a bite. I desired to see him relax in front of me because I’m the one who made him feel good. And I barely knew him.
Clutching my apron straps for dear life, nearly choking myself with them, I shrugged. “Suit yourself.”
Jack stepped toward the door, still staring at me like I was the world’s most mysterious enigma. “I’ll be seeing you, Sylvie.”
“Will you?” I asked, scoffing at him.
Jack snickered and bumped his ass against the door. He paused before exiting, saying, “It’s Frost, by the way.”
A breath hitched in my throat. “Frost? As in Jack Frost?”
Jack didn’t answer me and winked, a twinkle sparkling in his eye before he left, the door chiming closed behind him.
I stood frozen with my mouth open, staring at the door like I expected him to waltz right back in.
Marching, I locked the door and flicked off the open sign, fully prepared to close until my night shift assistant showed up in the evening.
I was flustered, irritated, and still somehow wrapped up in how attractive a stranger was.
All because Jack Frost had to come around nipping at my nose.