Page 21 of Sugar, Spice, and Magical Midlife

“Me, too.” He released my hand and leaned back in his seat.

I rubbed warmth into my hand while missing his touch. “Well, what now?” I was a fool for not asking him to take me back to the bakery. I should’ve just admired him from behind the safety of the bakery counter while watching him finger my rolls.

“If you’re hungry,” he said, “we can order takeout, but I can’t eat in public.”

“Your place, then?” I blurted before engaging my brain. Surely, I had to have siren in my bloodline.

“If that’s okay with you.” He flashed a boyish grin, revealing sharp canines, or maybe they were called fangs in the feline world. Either way, I suddenly realized why some witches were attracted to vampires, because I wanted nothing more than for him to sink his fangs into me.

My gut twisted in a knot. Why had I suggested his place? If I made him take me back to the bakery now, I could get home in time to charge my vibrator before my favorite late-night show. It felt as if someone else was speaking for me as I pushed out the word. “Sure.”

I DIDN’T KNOW WHY Iwas expecting Ric to take me to a rundown apartment with giant week-old kitty litter boxes in the corner. What I wasn’t expecting was for him to drive me to a gorgeous Spanish-style mansion on the outskirts of town with the beautiful Sangre de Cristo Mountain silhouettes in the backdrop, outlined by the starry sky. Of course, he lived far from the city. He said he hunted a few times a week, and with hisappetite, he’d need big game animals. I just hoped there wasn’t a pile of elk carcasses in his backyard.

We’d already picked up six pizzas and four buckets of wings for him. Since they didn’t have many gluten-free options at the pizza parlor, I was stuck with a chicken and spinach salad without croutons. One reason I’d opened a gluten-free bakery was because my son had week-long meltdowns after he ate anything with wheat, barley, or rye, and since he had a sweet tooth, I wanted him to have a safe place to enjoy his favorites. I couldn’t deny those grains turned me into a Bitchzilla, not to mention they transformed my insides into something out of a horror movie. I certainly didn’t want to cut our date short because I exploded Ric’s toilet, not to mention I’d never be able to face him again.

I followed him into his home, admiring the Spanish tile floors and stained-glass windows of the two-story dramatic rounded entryway. We walked beneath an antique chandelier as big as a small car. The walls were white stucco with dark wood beams crisscrossing the high ceilings. Every archway and door was in the rounded Spanish style. My jaw dropped when he took me into what I could only describe as my dream kitchen with rows of rustic cabinets, the hugest center island I’d ever seen, a massive touch-screen refrigerator, a gas range, and double ovens.

He set the pizza boxes and wings on the gray-and-white granite countertop.

I clutched my small salad, smirking. “You sure that’s enough?”

“Yeah,” he said, “it’s just a snack. I already had dinner.”

Oh! I tried to hide my shock as I realized those cinnamon rolls were probably a midmorning snack, too.

He draped his coat over the back of a barstool and rolled up his sleeves, revealing toned, tanned arms. The more I tried notto imagine those arms wrapped around me while I straddled his waist, the more I imagined it.

I slipped out of my coat, intending to hang it on the back of a barstool, but then it floated away and disappeared behind a doorway in the living room that faced us. “Cool enchantment,” I said to him.

“Yeah.” He scratched the back of his head, his cheeks flaming.

I swallowed at that, smoothing shaky hands down my pants. If my floating coat wasn’t enchanted, that left only one other option in the magical world—his house was haunted. Considering he worked in a mortuary, I shouldn’t have been surprised. Could this night get any weirder?

That large soda I’d guzzled on the way to his house decided to make its presence known, and my skin-tight jeans didn’t make it easier on my poor bladder. “Do you mind if I use your restroom?” I asked.

“Sure.” He pointed to a hall on the other side of the kitchen. “First door on the left.”

The bathroom was just as opulent as the rest of the house and much bigger than the master bath in my condo, with a shower big enough for a harem and a separate bidet next to the toilet. Somehow, I had the feeling Ric had it specially installed. No doubt he needed the extra sanitation after eating a buffet’s worth of food every day. At least he didn’t use a litterbox. I thanked the ghosts who handed me a fresh hand towel, annoyed that the spirits had probably watched me suck in my breath while peeling my jeans back over my gut.

I tried to be quick, though I decided to touch up my hair and reapply my shimmery gloss, plus dab a bit of extra deodorant in my pits.

Imagine my shock when I returned to the kitchen to find the pizza boxes and wing buckets were gone. Ric looked sheepishwhile nursing a beer from a seat at a comfy breakfast table beside a set of bay windows overlooking the starry night sky. And sitting on the table across from him was my pitiful little salad.

“You already ate?” I asked as I sat down, wincing when my jeans dug into my belly button.

“Yeah.” His blush intensified. “Hope you don’t mind. I prefer to eat alone.”

Of course he did. I plastered on a smile. “I understand.”

He stood, tipping back the last of his beer. “Would you like a glass of wine with dinner?”

I cracked open the plastic lid on my salad. “Sure.” Anything to relax me during this incredibly awkward date.

He had to go to the wine cellar to retrieve the bottle. I thought about following him, but this night had been awkward enough. I didn’t want to find his sarcophagus or collection of petrified dragon balls.

After he disappeared, I silently chewed my food while taking in the view from the table. This house was beautiful with comfortable, rustic leather furniture and vaulted ceilings. Considering Ric’s age and rare species, I suspected he came from old money. He probably had a Swiss bank account somewhere. That would’ve impressed me years ago, but after being married to Colin, I knew it only increased the chances of Ric being a douchebag. I certainly hoped not. What a waste of a delicious hunk that would be.

I tried not to stare at his thick biceps, broad, muscular chest, or that sexy slanted tilt of his full lips when he returned from the basement and uncorked the wine, giving me a sultry look that made my insides turn to jelly. He poured the wine into a glass and slid it to me.

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