Chapter Fourteen-Jaxson
I caught her just as she stepped out of City Hall, cell pressed to her ear and murder in her eyes.
She was pacing like the sidewalk had personally committed any number of heinous acts against her or her ancestors.
Damn. She was cute.
“No, I don’t care if he wants a column titled Witches Behaving Badly. Tell Ryerson if he wants to print trash, he can do it in crayon on a napkin,” she snapped. Then added with a honeyed bite, “Yes, Stanley. I do know it’s his constitutional right to be an ass.”
I leaned against the stone rail, a white bag in my hand, watching her unleash that fire.
Gods, she was magnificent.
Fierce. Sharp.
And so damn beautiful I felt the hunger for her like claws raking down my chest.
She turned and spotted me. Froze mid-huff.
“Jaxson.”
The way she said my name?
Like she hadn’t meant to.
Like she was surprised I hadn’t vanished.
“Afternoon, Madam Mayor,” I drawled, just to see that little twitch of her lips.
“Don’t start with the Madam Mayor stuff. You’ll give people ideas.”
“I already got ideas,” I said, low and honest.
Her eyes flared, cheeks going that pretty pink again.
I stepped forward, slowly, letting her see I was here for her and only her.
Then I held out the white sack. “Thought you might want something sweet to take the edge off before dinner, Darlin’.”
She took it with a raised brow, peeked inside, and lit up like dawn breaking. “Double Devil’s Food Delights?”
She inhaled and practically moaned.
And poof! There went any chance I had of taking this thing slowly.
“These are my favorite.”
“I know,” I said, voice rougher than I meant. “And dammit, Darlin’, I’ve never been jealous of a pastry before.”
She didn’t catch it at first—too busy licking chocolate off her fingers and making soft, sinful sounds that made my jeans a damn prison.
I had to shift my stance, subtly, adjusting myself before she noticed.
“Huh?” she asked, blinking at me with chocolate-glazed satisfaction.
“Nothing,” I muttered, fighting for control.
“So,” she said, wiping her lips on the tiny napkin provided.
She was a little bit shy now.
So fucking adorable.
“What did you have in mind for dinner? Pizza? A burger?”
“I thought I’d cook for you,” I said, stepping closer again. “Some food, some wine, conversation. Maybe get to know you a bit. That is, if you’re amenable, Darlin’.”
That pet name rolled off the tongue effortlessly. And I could tell she liked it.
It worked just like a charm—her eyes darkened with interest, her body leaned subtly toward mine.
Oh yeah, she felt it too.
“Sounds good,” she said, then squinted. “But you, uh, have no kitchen.”
“Thought I’d borrow yours.”
I took her hand. She didn’t pull away.
Instead, she let me hold it as we walked straight through the middle of town like we’d been doing it for years.
She asked about my opinions on local sports.
I asked about her take on country music.
We bickered over the New York Giants versus the Dallas Cowboys.
She wrinkled her nose at my playlist choices.
It was perfect.
We stopped at the market.
Best of all? She didn’t let go of my hand the whole time.
“You’re not a vegetarian, are you?” I asked, eyeing her sideways.
“Who me? No, I’m not a vegetarian.”
“Thank the Moon,” I muttered, tossing two porterhouse steaks into the basket.
Then came potatoes, broccoli, cheddar, bacon, red wine.
She didn’t say a word—just nodded like she approved of every choice.
And when I reached for the strawberries, dark chocolate, sugar, and cream, I heard the faintest gasp.
Yeah. She knew what was coming.
By the time we got back to her place, my Wolf was pacing under my skin, eager and keyed up.
Not just for the night. For her.
“Why don’t you go set your things down?” I said, voice gentler now.
“I know it might be odd, since this is your house and all, but I’d really like you to be comfortable with me, Evelyn Castor.”
She tilted her head, heat in her gaze. “If I wasn’t comfortable, you wouldn’t have made it through the front door.”
She stepped close.
Her curves brushed my chest, and I had to grit my teeth to keep my growl in check.
Lightning danced through my veins. My Wolf liked her boldness.
Hell, so did I.
“You keep looking at me like that, Darlin’, and I’m liable to want my dessert right now.”
“Hungry, are you?” she asked, voice low and knowing.
“Wolves are always hungry for some things.”
She pressed even closer.
“What’s wrong with eating dessert first?”
“Normally I’d say nothin’,” I murmured, brushing my lips near hers. “Nothin’ at all.”
A pause, then, “Evie,” I moaned, pressing my forehead against hers, just breathing her in.
I was seconds from kissing her, but boundaries and explanations had to be made.
Both were necessary because this thing between us?
It wasn’t a one and done.
It was more a till death, but maybe not even then kind of deal.
“I think this thing between us might be bigger than we think,” I growled, licked my lips, and continued, even though my Wolf was damn near tearing me up inside, “I think we should talk first.”
I waited impatiently for her reply.
Then—crash.
The sound came from upstairs.
Evelyn jumped.
My body reacted instinctively. Protective instincts roared to life as I bolted up the stairs.
That’s when I came face to face with a two-foot-tall furball crackling with green magic.
“You do not touch my Witch without permission,” the creature hissed, claws lit like goddamn fireworks.
I blinked.
Evie huffed behind me.
And all I could think was, what in the name of moonlight and madness had I just gotten myself into?
And why did it feel like exactly where I was meant to be?