Chapter Nine-Evie
Of course, I should’ve known better than to think I’d make it through a single peaceful cemetery stroll without a run-in from my past.
Literally.
“Hello there, Evie.”
Ugh. That voice.
That smug, nasal, nose-high voice I’d recognize anywhere.
I didn’t even have to turn around to know Dick Daniels—yes, that’s really his name—was side-stepping it up next to me like a smug little Goblin who just stepped out of a cologne ad for toxic masculinity.
Ex-boyfriend.
Former Fire Chief.
Current walking cautionary tale.
“What are you doing in there?” he asked, peering through the iron gates like a paparazzo outside Buckingham Palace.
I didn’t dignify him with an answer right away.
Just gave him my patented I’d-rather-hug-a-porcupine glare and kept walking.
You’d think after ghosting me post-breakup—and nearly burning down the north side of town with that stunt involving flammable warding oil—he’d get the universal hint to go haunt someone else’s emotional trauma.
Alas, Dick was nothing if not persistent.
And short-penised.
As was the case with most fire-slinging Warlocks I’d dated.
That was a joke. Mostly. Probably.
“I said, what are you doing in a cemetery, Evelyn?”
The way he said my full name grated on my nerves like silver on a chalkboard.
“Hello Richard,” I said, plastering on a smile so fake it belonged on a reality TV show. “I’m working. You remember what that is, right? Doing your job instead of flirting your way through zoning permits?”
He blinked. Opened his mouth like he had something clever to say, but that was never the case now, was it?
“Good mornin’, Madam Mayor.”
And just like that, the universe hit me with a plot twist in the form of six-foot-plus of Wolf Shifter hotness, wrapped in a cotton shirt, tight jeans, and lemon-basil sex appeal.
I turned and promptly forgot how to breathe.
Oh. Oh, holy full moon and flaming broomsticks.
It was him alright.
Jaxson Reid.
Silver eyes.
A voice made of dark roast and temptation.
Shoulders like he could carry my emotional baggage and a small village.
I mean, I’m not usually the type to swoon—I leave that to the gothic heroines in tragic novels—but damn if my knees didn’t do a little dip.
He was prettier than me.
And I use highlighter and glamour spells.
Dick—the Wizard, not the euphemism (though also applicable)—sniffled like a toddler with allergies, clearly sensing the incoming alpha energy radiating off my new problem.
“This fella botherin’ you, Darlin’?”
Holy. Hotness.
“Who, Dick? No, um, Dick doesn’t, um, bother me,” I whispered, sounding like a breathless moron.
Ugh, Evie, stop it!
Jaxson nodded at me, then turned his silver stare on Dick.
And as if on cue, Dick backed up.
Jaxson moved forward.
Two more steps, closing the space between us.
And Dick actually jogged backwards.
Like someone shouted free laser hair removal in his general direction.
To be fair, Dick had a slight unibrow problem.
Okay, fine, it looked like a black prison bus parked across his forehead.
Snort.
“You sure you’re alright, Darlin’?” Jaxson asked, all sincerity.
“Yup,” I replied.
Watching my ex back up—literally taking five steps backwards, all because a Werewolf growled in my general direction?
Yeah. That kind of did it for me.
It was only seven in the morning and already my day was improving by leaps, bounds, and magically enhanced pheromones.
I glanced at the sky.
Then, I turned to the towering Shifter, my grin stretched so wide I probably looked half-feral, half-dazed.
And that, of course, was exactly the moment my stomach decided to flip like a damn pancake on Beltane brunch duty.
And not just from the sizzling heat of Jaxson Reid’s Southern drawl.
No, it was the way he stood there—tall, broad, radiating Wolfy confidence and looking at me like I was something special.
Something sacred.
Something his.
It was a look no one had ever given me before.
Certainly not Richard “Can’t Take a Hint” Daniels, who somehow managed to slither back towards me.
And I think he was still flapping his gums too.
Like a petulant child whining for a treat.
“Evelyn? I’m talking to you. I demand to know who this man is! Who the heck do you think you are?” Dick demanded, puffing out his chest like a peacock with a stubby wand and unresolved mother issues.
“I’m the guy you probably don’t wanna test right now, pal. Or better yet, go ahead,” Jaxson said calmly, folding his arms over his chest.
His arms.
Good Gaia, those arms.
His sleeves strained over thick biceps like the fabric was begging for mercy.
He had the kind of body that made a girl want to commit sins just by imagining the word plaid.
I blinked. Focus, Evie.
Richard sputtered.
“Excuse me? I am a decorated Fire Chief, thank you very much.”
“Decorated?” I scoffed. “With what? Glitter glue and a participation trophy for Most Likely to Mismanage a Magical Emergency?”
Jaxson smirked, clearly enjoying my sass.
“Evelyn, I think we should discuss our business privately and leave this person out of it.”
“Are you serious? Dick, I think you should get out of my face. Like now,” I said, narrowing my eyes at Jaxson’s stupid sexy grin.
It wasn’t fair for one person to have a smile that freaking hot.
And the bastard knew he looked good doing it, didn’t he? Of freaking course, he did.
His face should be illegal.
Especially his eyes.
Stardust, I’d called them.
He really did sparkle. Freaking stupid, smug supernatural menace.
“I believe the lady asked you to move along,” Jaxson said with the same terrifying calm. “So how about you do that, and we don’t have to turn this cemetery into a dueling ground?”
“Evie,” Dick whined, sounding exactly like the kind of man who still lived in his mother’s basement. “You’re just going to let some mangy mutt talk to me like that?”
“Mangy mutt?” Jaxson echoed. His voice was velvet and violence wrapped in bourbon.
“Evie Darlin’, you got about ten seconds to tell me not to bury this man where he stands.”
Oh. Oh no.
And oh yes.
I should have stopped him.
Should have done something mayoral.
But instead?
I cackled.
Like full-on, ugly belly laughed in the middle of the damn cemetery, while my ex turned an interesting shade of puce and my maybe-mate cracked his knuckles in anticipation.
It wasn’t my most professional moment, but in my defense, I’d had quite the week.
“I’m fine, Jaxson,” I finally managed, once I wiped the tears from my eyes. “But I appreciate the enthusiasm.”
“If you say so, Darlin’. But if you ever change your mind.”
His expression shifted, and there it was again—that heat.
That possession.
The look that said you’re mine without ever needing words.
Dick scoffed. “Ugh, whatever. You two deserve each other.”
“Damn straight, we do,” Jaxson murmured, not taking his eyes off me for a second.
Dick stomped off in a huff, probably to go haunt someone else’s morning, and I was left standing there with six feet of smoldering Wolf Shifter and a whole lot of unsaid things between us.
“So,” I said, smoothing down my shirt that was suddenly too hot and too tight. “You just happened to be wandering through my graveyard this morning?”
He didn’t smile. Not exactly.
But his mouth curled up at the corners in a way that made my knees wobble.
“Couldn’t stay away,” he said. “You were in my dreams, Darlin’. Screaming my name. You sure you didn’t feel it? I thought you had a little Seer in you?”
“If I do,” I said dryly, “she’s just as confused as the rest of me.”
He took a slow step forward, and Gaia help me, I didn’t back away.
“Guess I’ll have to help you figure it out then.”
My breath caught.
This day was shaping up, and it was still early.
Jaxson invaded my space.
His lemon-basil growly goodness was making me tremble where I stood.
“So, where to, Madam Mayor?”
“Oh, um, this way,” I muttered, and turned around, but not before I saw the way his eyes smoldered as he raked them down my body.
Yep. Friday was already kicking Thursday’s ass.