Chapter 4
Chapter Four
Liam
“I’m Liam. Liam Ironwood. Evie’s boyfriend.”
The words are out of my mouth before I can think twice about them. The moment I had my witch in my arms, I knew I needed time to get close to her. Explain to her what she is to me.
Not that it would be hard to see. Ever since I laid eyes on Evie, with her apron cinched tightly at her waist, emphasizing her figure, and the subtle swell of her breasts at the neckline tempting me, it’s been difficult to maintain professionalism. Let alone convince my cock to behave.
I hardly slept last night, every inhale filled with the subtle scent of her.
And her damn lacy panties haunting me from the dresser where I’d thrown them before taking a cold shower.
Not that it did anything to calm the throbbing cock demanding attention.
Judging by the way the witch grimaces with each movement this morning, she didn’t sleep well either, and I have a suspicion why. I’m determined to find out today if I’m right and put an end to it.
Judging by the way her scent is on everything in that room, she didn’t give us the last room. She gave us her room.
My thoughts exactly.
I agree with the jaguar, and a deep rumble vibrates in my chest. I’m not sure if it’s because I admitted he was right for once or because I still have the witch settled in my lap.
Stubborn, selfless witch.
“I knew it!” The Hawthorne triplet who greeted me at the door yesterday bounces in her fuzzy slippers, curlers jiggling on her head and bringing me back to the present.
Does she always walk around in her night attire?
The man glances between my witch and her three elder aunts, twisting the wilting bouquet of carnations in his hands.
Beads of sweat dot his forehead, and there’s a nervousness in the way he shifts his weight from one foot to the other.
He looks like a perfectly fine witch, but my jaguar prowls jealously inside, tail lashing as he watches the man stare at Evie.
I want to sweep her up and take her somewhere far away from his wandering eyes.
Somewhere I can feast on more than breakfast until she melts under my tongue.
The question is, why is he here?
Clearly, he isn’t staying at the bed-and-breakfast.
“Ted, what are you doing here?” Evie asks, her body stiffening in my lap. A faint burnt smell intertwines with the warm pumpkin chai tea scent clinging to her skin.
Without thinking, I shift my hand to her lower back, rubbing gentle circles against the tense muscles there. Slowly, the tension beneath my palm begins to ease as her body unwinds.
“I—um, well—the Pumpkin Festival is in a week…” His gaze drops to meet mine, and he quickly looks away, staring instead at the limp garland of leaves hanging from the mantel. “Evalyn—”
“She’s staying at the university this year. She’s got midterm exams and a project to finish,” Evie says with a sigh, her shoulders slumping as more of the tension leaves her body.
The grandfather clock in the adjoining room chimes, its deep notes filling the silence, and Ted shakes his head as though freed from some sort of trance. He glances around the room one last time before stepping back.
“I’m so sorry to… bother you, then. I was just—I mean, I was hoping—” He clears his throat and shoves the poor, bedraggled bouquet into the hands of the nearest Hawthorne triplet.
“I just realized what time it is. I need to—that is, I’m supposed to be helping set up for the Pumpkin Festival. Give Evalyn my regards.”
Ted turns and leaves.
Ah. Not a threat to our mate.
He wants her sister.
I still don’t like him.
“Evie—” the second triplet starts, but the third throws her sister a sharp glare, and she snaps her mouth shut.
“We’re going to get to the salon before the Pumpkin Festival.”
“Sigrid, the three of you just had your hair done last week.” Evie presses her lips together, and all I can think about is how pretty those lips would be wrapped around my—
“The salon is for far more than just hair, as you well know,” Sigrid remarks, then links arms with the others before they turn and depart, leaving Evie and me alone once again in the dining room.
“Oh, this is not good.” Evie pushes to her feet, adjusting her wire-rimmed glasses and running her fingers through her long blonde-and-pink hair.
I reluctantly let her go.
Evie walks around the table and, after eyeing the ladder skeptically, sighs and flicks her wrists sharply. The garland floats into the air, looping itself around the hooks embedded in the wall in long, twisting strands of red, orange, and yellow leaves.
It isn’t my decorating preference.
It’s bulky and bright, making the place scream that it’s fall. I prefer a simpler, more modern look—clean lines and muted colors.
But then Evie’s face lights up.
She rises onto her tiptoes, tucking an armful of mini pumpkins into every nook and cranny, even carefully placing them around the base of the stand holding the family’s wand proudly horizontal on the mantel.
I find myself watching her instead of the decorations.
The way her eyes sparkle. The little smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. The quiet hum she makes under her breath as she fusses with another pumpkin until it sits just so.
Maybe the decorations aren’t so bad after all.
“What isn’t good?” I grab my cup of coffee, adjusting my hard cock in my pants as I cross one leg over my knee and lean back in the chair, my witch still absorbed in her task.
“What?” Evie turns to face me, her brow knit. Her gaze stays fixed on me as I lift the cup and sip the still-hot coffee, a flush creeping into her cheeks.
I take my time setting the cup on the saucer, pushing up my sleeves and leaning back in the wooden chair, never breaking eye contact. Her tongue darts out, wetting her lips, her breathing quickening as her gaze drops to my forearms.
With a deliberate clench and release of my fists, I flex my forearms, satisfaction curling through me at her almost imperceptible intake of breath.
“You didn’t have to do that.”
“Rescue you from falling off the ladder trying to decorate the whole room by yourself when you’ve barely slept and probably haven’t eaten?”
“That’s not what I meant, and how I’ve slept and eaten is none of your business.
You’re a guest here. Providing breakfast to guests and sharing the spirit of the season is literally my job.
” She braces both hands on the table across from me, glancing toward the door as though someone might walk in at any moment.
The movement, however, puts the swell of her breasts directly in my view, and all it would take is leaning over the table to bury my face between them.
It takes everything in me not to give in to the temptation. Instead, I busy my hands grabbing my cup of coffee and finishing it off before setting it on the plate next to me.
“If you could use magic to decorate the room instead of endangering your life, why didn’t you do that in the first place?”
“Don’t change the subject. Why are you really here, Liam?” She moves around the table, her gaze continuing to dart toward the door to the hallway.
“No one is coming. Half your guests were gone or sound asleep when I came down, and I haven’t heard anyone stir.
Your aunts and Ted have all left. It’s just you, me, and this plate of food that’s getting cold.
” I stand, pull out the chair beside me, and gesture for her to sit down.
“Sit, eat. You can spare five minutes, and I’ll explain myself. ”
Evie hesitates, eyeing the seat and plate of food like either one might bite her.
“You don’t look like someone who likes to waste food.”
I fill another cup with the steaming, fragrant dark liquid. The scent of roasted coffee and pumpkin spice hangs thickly between us.
“Cream?”
Evie sighs and settles into the chair before pulling her hair into a messy bun on top of her head, leaving a few soft strands loose around her face.
“Yes, and the pumpkin syrup.”
I make quick work of topping off her cup with heavy cream and pumpkin syrup before placing the cup and saucer in her waiting hands.
Her gaze meets mine.
Heat swirls in those blue depths, lingering on my face before dropping briefly to my mouth.
Interesting.
Our fingers brush as I release the cup, and neither of us moves right away.
Her breath catches.
Mine nearly does too.
I refill my own cup before settling into the chair next to the witch, intentionally bumping my knees against hers beneath the table just to see her reaction.
As suspected, the simple contact sends her heart racing.
I can hear it in the slight hitch of her breathing.
Oh, this will work very well for me if my witch is this affected by my touch.
This is just the beginning.
“Why I’m here is simple. To solve the mystery of the stolen objects, as I told you during our phone call.”
“Okay, but what’s up with the whole ‘boyfriend’ thing?”
I gesture at the plate.
She grumbles but grabs a piece of candied bacon, popping it into her mouth.
She chews, then lets out an audible moan. Her eyes flutter closed.
My cock jumps at the sound.
I grip the arm of the chair so tightly the wood creaks before I force my fingers to loosen.
If that’s the sound she makes when she eats…
My jaw clenches.
Goddess help me.
Her eyes flash open, bright blue, as she swallows, then she stares at me pointedly.
I clear my throat, taking a slow sip of coffee before smiling at her over the rim of my cup.
“I figured I needed a cover while staying in town searching for the thief, and your aunts seemed adamant about hooking you up for the Pumpkin Festival. If everyone thought you were my girlfriend, it would keep them from finding some poor sap for you to take and keep any suspicion off me.”
“So, fake dating.” She hums under her breath as she picks up a pastry, taking a bite followed by a sip of coffee.
Her tongue darts out to catch a smear of frosting from the corner of her mouth.
I watch it.
Probably longer than I should.
“No one is going to believe I’m dating a man I just met.”
I set down my coffee.
“Is that so?”
Before she can answer, I reach across the small space between us and cup her face.
Her entire body goes still.
One of my legs slips between hers beneath the table, close enough that I can feel the heat radiating from her.
She gasps.
My thumb drags slowly across her bottom lip, catching a tiny crumb of frosting. Her lips part under my touch. For one suspended second, neither of us breathes. Her eyes drop to my mouth.
I lean closer.
Just enough that her breath fans warm against my lips. Close enough that if either of us moves an inch, our mouths will meet. Her fingers tighten around her cup, and I feel the rapid thud of her pulse beneath my thumb.
She wants you to kiss her, my jaguar nearly growls in my head.
Every instinct in me says to close the distance.
Instead, I drag my thumb once more across her lower lip before pulling away. I sit back in my chair as though I haven’t just left my witch trembling in front of me.
Then I lift my thumb to my mouth and slowly lick the frosting from it.
Evie’s eyes go wide as saucers. Her breathing turns rapid, her chest heaving as she stares at me. I smile, letting a little of my jaguar loose as my sharp canines flash.
“I can be very convincing.”
I lean forward just slightly, keeping my gaze locked with hers.
“What say you, a leannán?”