Page 17 of Fixing the Grumpy Pumpkin King
“Is this what retail is like?” Jack continued, voice dripping with disdain. “Because it is complete and utter hell.”
The woman’s dreamy expression evaporated. “I heard this business had good vibes!”
Locke moved quickly to intercept, his smile bright and apologetic. “Ma’am. I am so sorry! Let me get you a bundle.”
He went around toward the displays nearby and grabbed a sage bundle, rang it up while she side-eyed Jack’s throne. The moment she left, Locke turned on him.
“You can’t just talk shit to customers like that.”
“I didn’t talk shit. I merely pointed out the obvious.”
“Jack.”
“She was standing near the display. How is that my fault?”
Locke pinched the bridge of his nose. “What the hell am I going to do with you?”
“You can close early and escape this retail hell with me.” Jack gestured broadly toward the door. “I heard the chief of this town—“
“Mayor.”
”—wants to place someone in charge of decorating that oak tree in the square and I have some ideas for it.”
Locke’s eyes widened. “Ugh, Jack for the last time. The town isn’t going to have an orgy by the oak tree!”
“It’s not that!” Jack protested. “I understand you mortals have been taken over by duller Gods. I am capable of adapting and…”
The door chimed.
Rowan strode in with his dark hair tousled and bold fashion. Today he dressed in a white loose shirt and black leather pantswith lace up the sides and a single dangling pearl earring in his right ear and as usual and this time the only other jewelry was the silver ring between he center of his lips.
Locke’s face lit up, actually lit up, his whole expression going bright, smile wide, eyes crinkling at the corners. The way he looked when something truly delighted him.
Jack’s carved mouth tightened.
“Rowan!”
“Hey.” Rowan’s voice was flat. He looked tired, dark circles under his eyes, his usual confident energy dimmed. He glanced at Jack’s throne, his expression seemed amused as his brow raised. “That’s still there, huh?”
Jack slumped lower in his seat, radiating boredom. He’d learned quickly that Rowan noticed too much. Better to look uninterested than give him ammunition.
Rowan’s gaze caught of something near his shoulder but Jack was certain he couldn’t see them. Almost certain at least. Pip, hovered too close to admire the dark-haired beauty causing him to swat absently at the air. Locke tensed, watching him, but he just shrugged and moved on.
“So, pizza tonight?” Rowan asked, turning back to Locke. “I can bring the good stuff from Mario’s cause oh shit I got some gossip to get off my chest.”
Locke’s expression flickered. Guilt, Jack recognized. He’d been dodging Rowan all week, making excuses about being busy or tired or needing to reorganize inventory. All lies. The real reason was the apartment, which currently looked like an autumn forest had exploded inside it.
“Oh, uh... I really want to, but the apartment’s kind of a mess right now.”
Rowan’s eyebrows rose. “Since when do you care about mess?”
Locke said nothing. The silence stretched.
Rowan’s expression hardened. “Right. Okay. Maybe next week then.”
“Rowan, it’s not.”
“It’s fine, Locke. You’ve been busy with your new friend who just showed the fuck up. I get it. I swear to God he better be fucking you into oblivion for you to be ignoring your friends like this!”
