Page 95 of Sweets and Sycamores
“I’m staying.”
Chapter 35
FOR BEING YOU
“Ihate it already,” Dom muttered from behind the wheel. He and Allie were driving to Pearls Fields, two days after the Silverbarks had come to Sycamore Falls. Allie wanted to pick up her broom and tie any loose ends with them, and Dominic… Dominic wanted whatever she wanted. He wanted her.
“It’s not that bad,” Allie tried to convince him. She almost did, as she was playing with the hair at the base of his neck, distracting him from the road. But the heat grew with every mile south, and he truly, honestly hated it.
“I’m sweating so much that I’ll lose weight.”
“Did you just try to make a joke?” Allie laughed. He did try, more and more often, just to hear the crystalline sound of her laughter. “Don’t worry, Dom. I’ll stuff you with pastries. And hazelnut cream.” He couldn’t resist glancing at her and caught the shimmer of mischief in her big brown eyes. Gods, he was gone for her.
“I’ll hold you to that,” Dom promised.
They drove for another thirty minutes before reaching Pearls Fields. The town was charming in its old magic way, yet Dom could never survive in this abominable heat.
“This it?” He parked the car on the curb of a dirt road leading up to a manor. Allie nodded, climbing out of her seat.
Dominic circled around the car and took her hand, but only after he had wiped his sweaty palm on his jeans. They walked along the path through the river birches and magnolia trees, but Dom’s eyes were on Allie. He wanted to make sure she did not have any regrets, that she did not long for this place. Dominic understood if she did, but he wanted to be there for Allie if any of these feelings surfaced.
Allie’s face remained unsmiling but carefree. When she caught him staring at her, Allie wrinkled up her nose and stuck her tongue out at him. Dom shook his head.
He had nothing to worry about.
As they approached the manor, a Witch came out through the heavy wooden door and stood outside the entrance.
“Freya,” Allie said.
“Hey, Allie.” She looked from her to Dominic, but his scowling made her eyes jump back to Allie instantly. “Let me go get your broom,” she said and went back inside.
“This is anticlimactic,” Dom mumbled. Allie chuckled.
“Did you expect another stand-off? Wasn’t the one two days ago enough?” He shrugged. It hadn’t been enough for him because he didn’t get to turn any of those sneering Witches into raisins.
The Witch came back and handed Allie her broom, who took it with new light in her eyes.
“For whatever it’s worth…” the Witch started, but stopped abruptly when Allie’s eyes moved from the broom back up to her. She offered Freya a tight-lipped smile, and the Witch snuck back inside without another word.
Dominic waited, thinking Allie might want to take a moment to say goodbye to this place. To look it over. But her brown eyes were plastered to her broom as she turned around and walkedaway from the Silverbarks’ manor. Forever, if he had any say in it.
“Is this sycamore wood?” Dom asked after he took a moment to look at Allie’s dear possession.
Allie grinned and nodded.
“My mom’s broom was also sycamore. I guess Lydia damned tradition when it came to keeping such a powerful Witch in the coven. I wonder…” Allie held the broom at arm’s length, regarding it with love in her eyes. “Maybe Mom made it for me as a clue. That I don’t need a silverbark broom because I wasn’t meant to be a Silverbark?” She scoffed and shook her head. “It’s silly.”
“It’s not.” Dom stopped by the car’s door and turned to face her. “Sycamores suit you so much better, Allie.”
She beamed at him, and Dominic stared at her beautiful face, framed by those untamed red curls. He leaned down and pressed a kiss on her lips, fighting the urge to linger there forever. Dom drew back and put effort into what he hoped was a charming smirk.
“Let’s go home.”
Allie was slipping the stone rings on her fingers when she heard a knock on the door.
“Come in!”
Dominic entered, his cedarwood and leather smell filling the studio room. His chestnut hair was up in a messy bun that she would love to untangle, almost as much as she would like to unbutton his dark blue shirt. He swept his green eyes over her tall boots and short purple skirt, which he had called “his favorite clothing item” Allie owned.
