Pumpkin Spice & Poltergeist (Maple Hollow #1)

“Got it, thanks, officer,” I interjected, cutting off their spat. The last thing I needed was to be the instigator of a werewolf-witch feud.

Dougall paused on me for a moment but must have decided against pushing the matter any further. He wandered off as I grabbed Jordyn by the wrist and tugged her to face me. “As much as I’d love watching you turn him into a toadstool, I should get back to work.”

She sighed but slid her eyes up my body to meet mine. My skin tingled, and the anger and embarrassment from before were washed away.

“I’ll see you tonight? Around eight?” Jordyn’s voice was deep and raspy and oh-so-sexy. And her gaze was promising something my body was desperate to cash in.

“I’ll be there, caffeine and croissants in hand,” I said with a nod.

I really wished her roommate wouldn’t be there, but maybe a buffer would be a good thing. This witch and I had gone on one single date and I was already ready to jump her bones.

Fuck. Maybe I should book the U-Haul now . . .

17

JORDYN

Harlow knocked on the back door of the apothecary at eight p.m. on the dot, and I had the sneaking suspicion she’d been pacing outside our apartment for the last several minutes. Because when I opened the door, she froze mid-step.

“That was fast,” she said, eyeing me. “I thought you lived on the second floor?”

“I was just returning something to the shop,” I said quickly as I swept a lock of hair behind my ear. She didn’t need to know I’d been leaning against the foyer wall, waiting for the last several minutes.

“You two are disgustingly adorable,” Lou said from behind me, and my genuine smile turned into a grimace. I waved a hand behind my back, trying to signal her to fuck off. “Don’t you shoo me,” Lou grumbled. “I’m not a frickin’ pest.”

I wanted to say, “Well then stop acting like one,” but Harlow was doing that nervous, little shuffle she did when we let the silences between us run a little too long.

Harlow held up a wrinkled white paper bag and a cardboard tray with four to-go cups. “Coffee and muffins?”

“The perfect food for witch work,” I said with a laugh. “You look nice,” I added and then bit my bottom lip to keep from saying more ridiculous things.

Her hair was still damp, her bangs swept away from her face. I wished I knew how she made comfortable clothing look so damn good. The cuffs of her short-sleeved shirt hugged her biceps just right, and her dark-wash jeans accentuated her curves, making my mouth water.

Harlow blushed. “Thanks, I showered.”

“Oh, so that’s the secret,” I joked. I stepped back to allow her to pass through. “Come on in. We’re just about ready.”

Harlow followed me up the stairs and into the apartment. She paused just inside the entryway and surveyed the kitchenette, sofa, and TV with a perplexed expression. A twinge of embarrassment ran through me. The apartment wasn’t a total mess, but it was well lived in. I hadn’t done a single dish in the sink all week and half-empty water glasses sat on several surfaces.

I watched Harlow for another moment, trying to will her thoughts into my head, but that wasn’t a magic I possessed. But then her eyes met mine, and without mystical intervention, I knew she wasn’t disgusted but pleased. Her small, warm smile filled her eyes and released all the butterflies I’d been holding captive in my belly.

Iris cleared her throat, and Harlow’s eyes drifted over to where Iris was sitting at the low coffee table. She’d drawn a salt pentagram and placed white candles at its points, and in the middle was a silver bowl of moon water for gazing into.

“You still okay with this?” I asked Harlow as I took the coffee and muffins from her and set them on the kitchen countertop.

She shrugged. “I just expected it to be . . . I don’t know, less normal? More witchy?”

I winced.

“I mean your apartment. It’s very…cozy. I don’t really know what I expected, but it’s nice.”

I released a relieved sigh. At least she hadn’t been scared off by the events we had planned.

“We keep the virgin sacrifice altar in the other room,” Iris said as she wandered over and selected the cinnamon cappuccino from the tray. She took a sip and hummed. “Thank you for this.”

“I—uh . . .” Harlow stared at her, then relaxed when Iris gave her a cheeky wink.

I snickered and wanted nothing more than to lace my fingers with Harlow’s. Instead, I took her by the elbow and led her closer to the table.