Page 28 of Hand-Fasting and Other Hazards
“So,” Ivy said, her grin widening. She didn’t budge from her spot, clearly settling in for a chat. “How was your night?”
Nia inhaled slowly through her nose, her patience already wearing thin, and brushed past the witch. “Busy,” she muttered, unlocking the doors. She flipped on the lights, set the speakers to their usual morning playlist, and moved purposefully into her office. Ivy trailed behind.
“We have a case of maple syrup being dropped off at eleven,” Nia began, ignoring the way Ivy was practically vibrating with impatience. “And Johanna from Peter’s Diner is bringing the batter the morning of the fundraiser. She said something about not trusting us with her famous pancake recipe.”
She settled behind her desk, hoping the physical barrier might discourage the inquisition.
It didn’t.
“Niiiaaahhh,” Ivy whined, with melodramatic despair. “I want details. My love life has been non-existent for so long, I’m starting to think I’ve been cursed.”
Ivy’s bottom lip pushed out in an exaggerated pout as she stomped her foot.
Nia frowned thoughtfully. Ivy could be over-the-top, but she was also stunning, sweet, and practically magnetic. She’d rarely been without a lover, or at least a date. But, now that Nia thought about it, things really had slowed down since the annulment. She filed that thought away for later—a puzzle to figure out when her business partner wasn’t pestering her for gossip.
For now, she’d give in.
“Fine,” Nia groaned.
Ivy squealed with glee, clapping her hands together before flopping into the chair across from Nia’s desk. “Okay, spill!”
Nia pinched the bridge of her nose. “We cuddled, but it didn’t mean anything,” she said, trying to keep her tone dismissive. “We were sleeping. It was non-consensual cuddling.”
Ivy gasped, her eyes going wide. “So he forced you to cuddle with him?”
“What? No!” Nia blurted, sitting up straighter. “He wouldn’t force me to do anything.” The words came too quickly, and she scrambled to recover. “Not that I would know that about him, or anything, but…”
Her words trailed off as the truth crept in.
She did know that about him.
Lochlan wasn’t the kind of man who would force anything—especially not something like that. And, honestly, it hadn’t been forced at all. She’d used him as a pillow, their legs tangled together like it was the most natural thing in the world.
If anything, she was at fault. He’d offered to sleep on the couch. She was the one who’d said they should share a bed, which, in retrospect, might not have been the best idea. But they could. There would just be no cuddling next time. Absolutely none.
When she snapped out of her thoughts, Ivy was smiling at her like a cat who’d cornered a particularly amusing mouse.
“Anyway,” Nia said briskly, waving her hand to dismiss the topic. “I don’t have other details besides the fact he’s an amazing cook and his dog is adorable.”
Ivy opened her mouth to reply, but Nia cut her off with a pointed look.
“We have a lot to do today.”
She wanted to bury herself in work and snuff out the smoldering heat the morning with Lochlan had kindled. The warmth of his touch, the scent of him, the quiet weight of his presence—it all lingered too vividly in her mind.
Her phone dinged, jolting her from her thoughts. Her heart leapt as, for an absurd moment, she thought it might be Lochlan. But when she glanced at the screen, her pulse quickened for an entirely different reason.
One of her marks had agreed to a meeting. Tonight. A grin tugged at the corners of her mouth.
Exacting judgement on a vicious witch was exactly the distraction she needed.
CHAPTER 11
Lochlan
“DO YOU KNOW WHO’S MAKING YOUR COFFEE? WE SIT DOWN WITH THE DESTROYER OF BLOODLINES, NATASHA GOBBLEGRIND.” —THE WEEKLY HEX
Lochlan clutched a batch of cookies and a velvet envelope containing his latest project: a restored first edition book filled with fairy tales. The crisp evening air nipped at his skin as he stood outside New Chapter, but his attention was fixed on the building three doors down.
