Page 19 of Sweets and Sycamores
“Not very often.”
So he might be right, and the power might just need release. People who were blessed with magic had to use it; otherwise, it consumed them. Now that he had a moment to think about it, the fact that she was just now going through these unplanned fire bursts told him her power was fairly new.
Huh.
Most Witches manifested at young ages, just like everyone else.
“When did you manifest?” Dominic acknowledged how personal this question was, and under normal circumstances, he would never have dreamed of asking this of a stranger. Yet these were not normal circumstances, and if she was going to live with him and around the people he cared about, he needed to know more.
Alecsandra wasn’t taken by surprise, as if she’d expected his question, and she replied without reserve but with an obvious and considerable amount of shame that made her cheeks turn rose pink under her freckles.
“Six months ago.”
Forget fairly new, this was brand-new power. But she was?—
“I’m twenty-eight,” she admitted, the color spreading to her neck.
A dam broke in Dom’s mind, flooding it with questions, but one look at her slumped shoulders and bright red skin made him think twice before asking anything else. He placed his hands on his hips and took a long breath in.
“Promise me you’ll tell me if this happens again.” He made sure there was no room for negotiation in his voice.
Alecsandra was taken aback, her eyes going wide, her lips parting just a sliver.
“I can stay?” she asked, not even trying to conceal the surprise and happiness in her voice.
“Promise me,” he warned her.
“I promise.”
Dominic hoped to hell he wasn’t going to regret this.
“Go to the front and get the bakery ready for customers.”
Allie cleaned every surface in the bakery, mopped the floors, and aired the place out, happy to take in the crisp morning breeze instead of having her teeth chatter until her jaw hurt. She resolved to split her reading time better between baking and Witchcraft. Now that the truth was out, she felt lighter and scolded herself for waiting until that uncomfortable moment to tell Dominic everything.
He didn’t call her for help in the kitchen that morning, and she made it her business to give him space and avoid the kitchen at all costs. Even if she couldn’t Read him, there was no question that he was upset. And who wouldn’t be? Allie was beyond grateful to stay at Dom’s Sweets, but she understood how hard it was for a stranger to accept her into his space with all the risks she posed. Hell, not even her coven sisters had wanted her around until she got the hang of her power. So if Dominic had shown her the door, she would have walked out without argument.
But he hadn’t.
He’d stopped talking to her, though, even after he flipped the bakery sign and they welcomed customers for the day. They worked around each other in silence, and he didn’t ask her for help at all. Allie picked up on tasks around him, trying to be useful while not getting in his way.
And if he stopped speaking to her for the rest of the day, or the week, or until she left, and even if he’d only bark orders at her and nothing more… She was still grateful. Call her a model, silent employee while she practiced her magic. Allie truly hoped no other spontaneous release of power would occur, but if it did, she would tell her boss. She didn’t intend to break the promise she made, as much as just thinking about it made her want to crawl underground with embarrassment for being so weak and untrained at her age. Why did she have to manifest so late, and with so little control?
Fate was a cruel, wicked bitch. But she had a place to stay and work at while she practiced, and her sisters to return to when she was ready. Fate was a bitch, but it had dealt her a decent hand.
The place quieted for the first time that day with two more hours left in the shift. Allie cleaned the front and rearranged the display case before going to the kitchen to get the freshly baked pies she smelled. Her stomach protested, but she ignored it, feeding it images of devouring the food in her fridge later that night.
Dominic stood by the large kitchen table, fork in hand, tasting one of the pies freshly out of the oven. Allie’s mouth watered, but she swallowed her craving and went to the tray with the cut slices.
The plate on the table moved.
Allie looked at the finger that pushed it toward her, her eyes sliding up his wrist and tattooed arm until she met her boss’s green gaze.
Was he offering her pie?
Maybe her imagination was playing tricks on her because of the hunger. She must have started seeing things. She should ask Dominic for a five-minute break to get her sandwiches or fruit salad.
The plate moved again.
