Chapter 3 #2
“Oh, hush. Don’t you start too,” I mutter as I pass him by. He ruffles his feathers, staring at me with one eye until I turn the corner.
Focus, Evie. You’ve got a dozen things to finish before this morning is over, and the last thing you need to worry about…
…is the six-foot-tall jaguar shifter admiring the family’s wand displayed on its stand on the mantel above the fireplace in the dining room.
The silver carafes let out a metallic clink as they bump together, floating beside me when I come to an abrupt stop.
“Can I help you with something, Mr. Ironwood?” The plates and silverware rattle as I set down the box of decorations. The carafes of coffee float over to their place on the serving table, nestled among the plates of food.
Perfect.
Only a few minutes later than promised, but none of the other guests seem to have come down from their rooms yet, which isn’t unusual given many of them are on holiday and most of the events over the next two weeks are in the afternoon and evening.
One of them said they’d even come into town for the annual broom race.
It isn’t my cup of tea, but my sister drags me to watch it every year nonetheless.
“Nice décor. Is it a family heirloom?” Liam lifts a hand toward the wand on the mantel. He rubs at the short auburn beard on his chin.
“It is.” I snap my fingers, and the stepladder floats from the broom closet in the hallway, stopping inches from my hand.
“If you’ll excuse me.” I gesture to the mantel as I grab the ladder and place it in front of the fireplace.
He steps back, then moves around the table, and I curse my eyes for noticing that his backside is just as pleasing as the front in those fitted slacks.
I grab the box and climb the ladder, keeping Liam in the corner of my vision as he grabs a cup and saucer and fills it to the brim with dark roast.
Even with his back turned, I can’t help but feel like he’s watching my every movement.
Which, given that I haven’t stopped ogling him since the moment I walked back into the room, I can’t blame him for.
Focus, Evie.
A cool thread of panic winds through me as I think of the sticky notes on my desk in the office, the stacks of bills needing to be paid, the texts and voice messages I have yet to respond to.
I’ve been putting it off, focusing on one thing at a time.
It’s fine. I’ve got this. Just have to finish the decorations first.
I grab the end of the plastic leaf garland and loop it around an S-hook, letting it droop a bit before reaching forward and repeating the process. I’m four hooks down when I hear a screeching yowl, followed by a string of curses and Nutmeg’s loud hooting.
“What in the four seasons is going on out there?” I step down to see what the commotion is, but my foot slips on the ladder, and I go careening backward, arms pinwheeling in the air.
As if in slow motion, Liam sets his cup down and launches himself over the table and chairs, catching me in his arms before landing in a crouch.
“Miss Hawthorne, are you alright?” Liam sets me on my feet, but a wave of dizziness overcomes me. My knees buckle, and I fall against him, hands splayed on his chest and his arms braced around me.
“I’m fine, just dizzy.” I try to push to my feet, but his grip around me tightens. “I need to go see what that was.”
“You’re not fine. You need to sit down. Have you eaten yet?” He scoops me up and strides to the other side of the table, where the buffet is lined up. Next thing I know, I’m in his lap with a plate piled high with bacon and pastries before me, along with a steaming cup of coffee with cream.
I knew shifters were fast, but—
That’s when my brain finally catches up to the fact that my very warm, very firm chair is not a chair at all but the lap of one particular man.
A man who still has a firm grip around my waist.
The tips of my ears burn, but I can’t deny that I’m hungry.
And for more than just food.
I gulp, avoiding his gaze. My stomach betrays me.
“You need to eat, a leannán.” He takes my chin in a gentle grip and tilts my face up. His stark green eyes search my face.
A leannán. Something in my chest flutters at the name, though I don’t know its meaning.
Maybe, just maybe, I could give in for once. He’s only here until the end of the month. A girl deserves a little fun.
“Evie?”
My body freezes as Ted steps into the dining room, followed by my three aunts, each wearing an identical catlike grin as they catch me like a kid with her hand in the cookie jar.
Ted stands with a bouquet of half-wilted carnations in his hands.
I’d forgotten Aunt Sigrid threatened to call him and invite him for breakfast if I didn’t find a date for the Pumpkin Festival.
Ted, the sweet postman who stops by every Friday to make sure everything is alright and to ask after Evalyn.
He’d been sweet on my sister throughout school, even though she was two years younger than us.
All my plans to politely turn him down crash and burn as the four of them walk in on me sitting in a strange man’s lap.
“Evie, are you going to introduce us?” Aunt Astrid asks, wiggling her eyebrows.
Liam’s fingers tighten against the sensitive rise of my hip, sending a wave of heat flooding my cheeks.
A feline grin spreads across his face as he turns in his seat to face the four of them. As if he can’t tell what effect he’s having on me.
“I’m Liam. Liam Ironwood. Evie’s boyfriend.”