Chapter Fifteen-Evie
I wholeheartedly approved of every item Jaxson tossed into our cart at the market.
The steaks were thick enough to seduce a vegan.
The potatoes were large enough to make a meal on their own.
The wine?
Bold. Smooth.
Just like him.
I couldn’t wait to see how he cooked everything.
But it was when he reached for the strawberries, the block of dark chocolate, the bag of powdered sugar, and the quart of heavy cream that something inside me fluttered.
No man had ever shopped for me like that before.
No one had looked at me and thought, she needs indulgence.
It was enough to make a girl need to change her panties.
My oh my.
By the time we made it back to my place, my whole body was buzzing with awareness.
Every glance, every brush of his arm, every smile he threw my way made it harder to remember who I was.
What I was.
That I had a town to run, a graveyard full of weirdness, a trio of familiars to manage, and a never-ending pile of bureaucratic nonsense to untangle.
But Jaxson Reid?
He was six and a half feet of sin wrapped in charm, all handholding and confidence and effortless sex appeal.
And I wanted to know everything about him.
“Why don’t you go set your things down?” he said as we entered, his voice that low, dangerous growl that made me weak in the knees. “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.”
I turned to him, stepped into his space like it was mine to claim. “If I wasn’t comfortable, you wouldn’t have made it through the front door.”
His eyes darkened, silver sparks shifting to storm steel. He made a sound in his chest—a low, controlled rumble that might’ve been a growl or a moan, but whatever it was, it shot straight to my core.
My panties dampened even more at the sexy as sin sound.
Dinner sounded great. Really.
But I’d never been the type to eat in order.
“You keep looking at me like that, Darlin’, and I’m liable to want my dessert right now.”
“Hungry, are you?”
“Wolves are always hungry for some things,” he murmured, eyes flashing, voice like gravel and bourbon.
I arched a brow, leaning in. “What’s wrong with eating dessert first?”
“Normally, I’d say nothin’ was wrong with it. Nothin’ at all, Evelyn,” he said, voice dipping to something downright sinful as he pulled me against the long, hard line of his body.
My knees nearly gave out.
He smelled like lemon and basil, fresh and wild all at once, and I soaked him in like a woman starving for something more than just food.
I wanted to kiss him.
Hell, I wanted everything.
But part of me—some deep, annoying, mayoral voice of reason—reminded me that I wasn’t just some woman.
I was Evelyn Castor. Mayor. Witch. Protector of Castor’s Corner.
“Evie,” he moaned, forehead resting against mine.
Gods. Just hearing my name on his lips made me ache.
It had been so long.
So damn long since I’d wanted someone like this.
In fact? I think the last time I felt this way was maybe never.
He wasn’t just handsome—though, yeah, holy hell, he was.
He was more.
He was patient, playful, smart, grounded.
He’d stood by me like we belonged together.
Like I belonged to him.
And that terrified me.
Because I couldn’t afford to belong to anyone.
I had a town to hold together with duct tape and stubbornness.
No time for fairytale endings or happily ever afters.
Not for me.
And when he said, “I think this thing between us might be bigger than we think,” in that voice that dripped with truth and hunger, I damn near melted.
“I think we should talk first,” he added, and my heart twisted.
He wanted to know me. Not just my body—but me.
He leaned in, lips a breath from mine then—CRASH!
A sound like a tree falling through drywall shattered the moment.
I yelped and stepped back, blinking as he snapped into protector mode and charged the stairs.
I followed, heart pounding.
“You do not touch my Witch without permission,” a very hairy, very pissed off little creature hissed.
Oh shit.
Okay, my fault. I totally forgot about him.
Jaxson crouched low and growled, teeth bared.
And for a second, I imagined all kinds of terrible outcomes.
“Wait! This is my familiar!” I shoved between them, hands on Jaxson’s chest—which, yes, was as rock hard and glorious as I’d imagined.
Note to self: revisit that terrain later.
“You know this hairy little bugger?” he snarled, gaze flicking from me to Ivan.
“I do,” I sighed. Then, I turned to the furry little menace. “Ivan, what in Gaia’s name are you doing here?”
“I live here now,” he grunted, clawed hand full of insulation. “Familiar, remember? Idyot.”
“Hey! Be nice. Now, introductions. Ivan, this is Jaxson—and by the way, he has permission.”
I glared at Ivan.
And I ignored the sexy Werewolf’s lingering growl.
“Jaxson Reid, this is Ivan—uh, I don’t know his last name,” I explained.
“I am Ivan Boris Helios Godwyn Corbett Arnold Buchka Furmanovich,” he said proudly.
My mouth opened. Then closed. Then opened again.
“Right. Of course you are.”
Jaxson blinked. “Uh, Darlin’, what exactly is he?”
I shrugged.
“My familiar. Um, Ivan here is a domyno? A dominatrix? A Dumbledore? A—oh, crap, I forgot.”
“I am a Domovyk!” Ivan puffed up.
“Right! He’s a Domovyk. That’s it. A Domovyk,” I said, pretending to know what that was.
“Yes. And I am her familiar now. You beware, Wolf man. One word and I turn your balls to green dust.”
And with that, Ivan dove headfirst into the ancient dumbwaiter he’d uncovered—because apparently that was happening now—and disappeared with another loud crash.
Jaxson scratched his head. “Uh.”
“Yeah. That went well.” I covered my face.
Jaxson chuckled.
That deep, husky laugh I was quickly becoming addicted to.
I peeked through my fingers and caught a glimpse of his devil-may-care grin.
My knees wobbled.
“Come on out now, Darlin’,” he whispered.
He gently peeled my hands away and framed my face with those big, calloused palms of his.
My heart slammed against my ribs.
“I was going to wait,” he murmured. “But after all that, I don’t think I can.”
Then he kissed me.
Sweet. Deep. Unbearably tender.
It wasn’t a demand—it was a promise.
The kind that made my soul lean in and my magic sizzle.
I moaned, melting into him, letting the kiss deepen. His lips moved with mine like we’d been kissing forever.
His tongue slid against mine, and everything else—my town, my responsibilities, the chaos—faded into nothing.
But I knew better.
I wasn’t built for forever.
I had a town full of secrets, creatures crawling out of crypts, and a pair of best friends who barely let me pee alone, let alone date a Werewolf.
I didn’t do relationships.
Just didn’t have time for them.
I was Evelyn Castor.
Mayor of Castor’s Corner.
Who would want that chaos for keeps?
Me—the huskily whispered word slipped into my mind before I could shut down the invasion.
Uh oh. Could it be?