Bakery girl forevah was not just printed on my Monday panties—yes, I still have days of the week undies—it was ingrained in my soul!

  Third, even pudgy, I was cute as fuck. I loved myself plenty, and if a man could not appreciate that, I had a drawer full of toys designed to keep me smiling. Sure, sex with another person was better, but so what?

  I would not fall into the same old trap because a man was good between the sheets—and on the sofa, the countertop, and the living room floor. Anyway, I had stuff to do and needed to get Mrs. Gennaro out of my store.

  “Mrs. Gennaro, have you decided what you would like?”

  “What dear?”

  “I said, what can I help you with?” I asked, trying to move her right along.

  Things were finally settling down around town, and I did not want to be responsible for them going haywire again—which, of course, would be unavoidable if I were late to our trifecta bonfire tonight.

  Tick tock. Tick tock.

  “Oh, gee. It looks like everything has been put away. Am I late again?” she asked, eyeing the sign I still held between my fingers.

  “Actually, I was just about to close—”

  “Well, I am glad I caught you then. The Castor’s Corner Charmed Embers Women and Witches Social Club is having a special meeting tonight.”

  “Are you? How nice,” I said, trying for patience.

  “Yes, it is always a pleasure. But we aren’t just doting Grannies talking knitting patterns, oh no. We have important issues to discuss.”

  “I see. So, how can I help you?”

  “Well, as the club’s Vice President, I said I’d get the goodies for tonight’s emergency meeting. Don’t you want to know what it’s about?” she asked, pausing for effect.

  “Um, sure. Why not?”

  “Well. Mr. Dorian has been on again about someone’s pet getting into his garden and eating his zinnias and prize marigolds. Well, me and the ladies were downright insulted, accusing us of being bad pet owners!”

  “OH my,” I murmured, staring at the clock.

  I really had no time for this. Donny was going to blow a gasket. She was the only one of us to never be late.

  Tick tock. Tick tock.

  “So, we are starting a neighborhood watch and we are gonna find whose little furry bundle is up to no good,” she said, nodding.

  “I see. Well, that is fascinating. Sounds like hungry work. How about I put together a variety box just for you gals?” I asked, giving her my biggest smile.

  “Oh, I don’t know. I might take my time and look around,” Mrs. Gennaro hedged.

  She tapped her fingernails on the counter, and I knew the woman was simply stalling. Typically, when older customers wanted to chat, I obliged. But I really had to go.

  “I’ll do it for half price,” I blurted, hating that I’d had to resort to this.

  “Deal!” Mrs. Gennaro said.

  Her grin was huge as I hurried around the counter to grab one of my multicolored pastry boxes. Mrs. Gennaro watched me with a predatory gleam in her eyes. The woman was one sly older fox—not literally.

  Literally, she was half witch, half ostrich Shifter. That explained her knobby knees and ridiculously long neck. Her great-great-grandfather had come to Castor’s Corner from Australia after WWI and brought his unique Shifter genes with him.

  I was not aware of another town on the entire east coast who could claim ostrich Shifters as one of their founding members. She was sorta cool, actually. Well, when she wasn’t making me late.

  “Here you go,” I said, tying the box up with string.

  I took her cash and herded her out the door, placing the closed sign prominently in the window. Then I turned to yell for Petyr.

  “Got the paint?” I asked when he came walking into the storefront.

  We had to be careful during business hours since his appearance was so not the norm. He was not the typical familiar. Domovyks were supernatural creatures with very distinct features.

  Ermagerd. I rhymed!

  Anyway, the point was he was not like a toad or a canary or a cat. He could not blend in. All three Domovyks had come to our town at the behest of Zelda, the great Shifter Wanker herself.

  They stood about two and a half feet tall, walked upright, with shaggy fur in varying shades of black, gray, and white. Ivan, Gryn, and Petyr each had bulbous eyes, curled horns protruding from their heads, and tails that dragged behind them.

  They also wielded untold magic. But they were loyal. I’d seen Ivan and Gryn risk their lives for Evie and Donny. Not to mention Petyr, who often went above and beyond for me, even called me his witchy. I thought it was cute.

  “Yes, my witchy. I got the paint. You have enough Totally Teal in satin finish to fix the spot,” he mumbled. “I don’t see why I could not fix for you.”

  “It will upset the balance if I let you use too much magic in here, Petyr. You know that.:

  “But I wish to help.”

  “I know you do, but we have gone over this. When you signed on to be a familiar for one of the witch trifecta of Castor’s Corner, you took on duties to protect, serve, and help grow my abilities. We both know you can’t do that if you do everything for me,” I said, repeating myself.

  He was just awesome like that, wanting to do it all. But there were some things magic could not solve.

  “Yes, but Bella. You must let me help tonight.”

  “I mean, you help me all the time. Who went back to the house for the paint?”

  “Me,” he replied, crossing his legs as he sat on the counter with his furry butt.

  I wasn’t sure what the whole Domovyk rule was about clothing since they were pretty much covered from head to toe in thick fur, but I made a mental note to clean that counter before I left.

  When he worked in the kitchen, Petyr wore a chef’s coat—I ordered a bunch for him from a dress-up store in a child’s size small. Cleanliness was everything in my kitchen. He was a tiny little guy, but he packed a mega magical punch.

  Humming to myself, I quickly covered the sanded spot of wall with a coat of Totally Teal paint from Elmo’s Hardware. That place had been around for decades, probably longer. As had Elmo, the warlock himself.

  He was not my favorite resident of Castor’s Corner, but he was the only game in town when it came to quality tools and paint. After a few minutes of carefully matching the strokes of my brush to the rest of the wall, I wiped my brow.

  “Petyr, what time is it?” I asked while bending over to repaint the trim where I’d dropped a glob of teal paint.

  “It is 7:22—”

  “What? I only have 8 minutes to get across town!” I wailed and handed my familiar the dripping paint brush.

  “I will clean and lock up,” he replied happily.

  His little furry face seemed thrilled at that prospect, and I wondered if maybe the Domovyk missed his old job. I’d done some reading on their ancestry and I knew they were Slavish House Spirits. They’d even been worshipped as minor gods at one point. I thanked him and he waved me away, while I tried not to panic.

  “Oh damn. I’m late. I’m late. Oh damn. Oh damn,” I mumbled, tearing off my apron and running outside.

  Reminding myself of a certain white rabbit, I ran to my car to find all four tires flat. What the heck? How could that be?

  “No!”

  I stomped my feet angrily. First arson, now vandalism. What next? Forget it, I didn’t want to know. I looked back and forth trying to figure out my options. I could run, but let’s face it, my short, chubby legs weren’t going to make it far.

  Before I could fall into despair, the rumble of a motorcycle caught my attention. Dang it. I did not have time for this man right now. Even if he looked like all kinds of naughty goodness on the back of his gunmetal gray motorcycle. I had a weakness for men in denim and leather boots.

  Conrad stopped in front of me, blond hair tousled carelessly by the wind. He had no right looking that good. It made me want to kick him in the shin, then kiss him until we were both panting.

  Curse you, witchy hormones!

  “Hop on, sweetheart. I’ll get you to the clearing,” he said in a husky voice that brokered no refusals.

  It was totally anti-feminist of me, but I had to admit, the not-so-subtle command in his tone completely turned me on. As did his whispered “good girl” when I jumped up behind him, wrapping my arms around his trim waist.

  “Fine. You can give me a ride, but it doesn’t mean anything. Just get me there,” I told him, placing my hands on the backrest in a show of stubborn insubordination.

  “Wrap your arms around my waist, Bella, and I’ll get you there,” he replied, not even pretending to care about my snark.

  That rankled. Was there nothing I could do to dissuade his interest? Conrad was just too good to be true. No way he was as into me as he appeared.

  “Fine,” I mumbled, putting my fingers lightly on his waist.

  Tingles raced up my arms at the slight contact. My magic hummed and buzzed at even that tiny touch. My powers, like my body, seemed to be in a constant state of wanting to wrap around the Shifter.

  Dang it.

  How was I supposed to resist falling into whatever with the smexy as all get snake man when he sparked my interest in more ways than one? The entire situation was preposterous. Him showing up like my own personal white knight on a black Harley was wholly unfair!

  “Hold on,” he told me again in that sexy growl-hiss of his, making my body tremble with lust.

  The second my hands touched him, pink and white sparks danced along my fingertips, moving about in dizzying lines up and down my arms, my spine, and straight to my core.

  My attraction went deeper than that, though. Transcended the physical. I’d heard people talking about the new Sheriff’s Deputy around town, and it was all good. He had a caring way about him that made me smile whenever I heard someone praising his manners and polite attitude.

  I refused to look too deeply into that. Not now, anyway.

  “Relationships are for the birds, Bella.”

  My Granny’s words came back to haunt me. It was the same refrain I had often repeated to myself. The wind whipped through my hair despite the helmet Conrad had secured firmly on my head before he took off like a bat out of hell.

  For the first time in forever, I was not so sure about my wise old grandmother’s relationship advice. After all, another of her famous sayings was about smart witches not needing men for anything but ingredients.

  I couldn’t even begin to describe how terrifying those words were to me as a child. Especially a child who loved to cook. I mean, I wasn’t a cannibal or anything.

  The Strega line was known to harbor a Dark witch or two, but I did not practice the Dark ways. My magic, like my recipes, might be calorie-laden, but they were fun-loving, light-hearted, and brought joy and happiness to those who tried them.

  I worshipped the light. Speaking of which, June was finally warming up and the entire town seemed green and lush. After all that rain, I suppose it made sense. The evening breeze was still cool, but with my arms around Conrad’s waist, I was completely comfortable. The man was an inferno.

  “Here you go, safe and sound.”

  Conrad’s body seemed to rumble with his words, the vibrations went straight through to mine, and I realized he’d dropped the kickstand and waited patiently while I clung to him like static.

  Squeak! How embarrassing.

  He’d stopped at the edge of the familiar copse of trees standing guard in front of the clearing where the rest of my trifecta waited for me. I could hear Donny and Evie’s whispers from this distance, but my auditory senses were nowhere near as good as Conrad’s.

  Judging from the crimson blush creeping up his cheeks, I could only imagine what those two witches were saying. Saucy wenches. I grinned like a lunatic. The three of us made quite a trio.

  “Thank you,” I began, forcing myself to release the man.

  What could I say? He was really nice to touch. All curved muscles, smooth skin, and those crazy long -fingered hands and legs. The man was what they called a tall drink of water. And I was dying for a sip.

  “Bella, I think we should talk—”

  “No. No talking, Conrad. I just can’t right now.”

  I furrowed my brows as I tugged on the leg of my chef’s pants. Dang it. I was caught on something. Ugh.

  “Okay. Let me help you,” he mumbled, gracefully swinging his leg over the bike, and bending to free my leg from where it got stuck.

  “Thanks,” I replied, in a hurry, yet standing still while he fiddled with my pant leg.

  “I know you have rules for a reason, Bella, and I am here if you ever want to discuss them. But just so you know,” he said while he worked.

  His deft hands loosened the fabric, and Conrad rose from the floor in one fluid motion. His blond waves framed his face in rockstar disarray, making him look even more drool worthy.

  Damn, was he hot. Like super hot.

  The hand that had freed my pants smoothed over my calf, my knee, my thigh, my hip—like it never wanted to leave my body. Parts of me felt the same. And it was those parts that had me narrowing my eyes at his emerald stare.

  The truth was, I did not believe a man who looked like a demigod could ever be serious about wanting me for keeps. Shifters were in a class all their own, physically speaking. Cute as I was, I could not compete with females of his ilk. Why would I even try?

  Sex was fun when it was good. And yes, he was good. But I was not in the market for a broken heart, and I was just about to tell him so when, without so much as a by your leave, the man cupped a hand behind my neck and leaned forward.

  Quick as lightning, Conrad caught my lips in a rough kiss that made my magic spark and my toes curl. I’d never been kissed so thoroughly in my entire life.

  “Sometimes all it takes is a leap of faith, Maribella.” And with that, he was gone.

  I stood there dumbfounded for the moments immediately following our tempestuous kiss. Granny said relationships were for the birds, but as Conrad pulled away on his motorcycle, the roar of the engine deafening from where I stood—or maybe that was my heart—I wondered if she wasn’t wrong.

  Maybe relationships were for the snakes. And maybe, if I was lucky, they were for witches too.

  CHAPTER 5

  “So, is it like dirty water hot dog dong, long and slim, or like broccoli rabe sausage dong, thick and fat. Come on, what are we talking about here?” Donny asked Evie as I raced into the clearing, huffing, and puffing.

  “Definitely more like the sausage, but still long. Thick though, too. Like maybe three of them tied together! OMG! Donny, for fuck’s sake. The man’s a Shifter—oooh! You finally made it!” Evie screeched.

  “Look who showed up! Snake got your tongue, Miss Maribella?” Donny teased.

  “Shut up,” I murmured as I kicked off my shoes.

  “She’s just jealous cause we were talking dongs, and she hasn’t seen one in a while, right Bella? FYI, Ryan is packing, ladies! And in a bear sized way. So, Bella how long since you’ve seen a good ding dong—we talking months or years?” Donny asked.

  “Heifers,” I grunted, starting to undress. “Not that long. And if you two are done talking about your men and their puny wangs, can we get down to business? The moon is rising, and we are one month from the summer solstice.”

  “They do not have puny wangs!” Evie snarled at me.

  Admittedly, I was not prepared for her vehement reply. In fact, she seemed really aggressive for the normally happy witch I knew her to be. Maybe mating a Wolf had her behaving like one, too?

  “Um, sorry about the growling,” she muttered, and her hand went to her stomach.

  I gave her a curious glance as I stripped out of my clothes fast as my chubby body could. And that was pretty dang fast. My face was on fire, whether with embarrassment, frustration at that rousing yet way too short kiss, or the fact my besties were teasing me with stories of their love lives, I truly did not know. Likely it was all the above.

  “Ease up, Evie. We have work to do,” Donny said.

  I was grateful for both women. Even when we had our differences, it was never something we could not work out together.

  “Sorry, really guys. I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” she murmured.

  “That’s okay. I didn’t mean to be almost late,” I said and shrugged, grinning at her to let her know all was forgiven.

  The mood shifted, and we all started getting ready for what we had to do next. Securing our town was not just a duty, it was a privilege, and I was honored to be among these outstanding witches.

  Evie was sort of the leader of our trifecta. She was a seer witch and had the gift of premonition. Though, I was not entirely sold on whether catching glimpses of the future was actually a gift. Seemed like a burden to me, but whatever. Maybe that was why she was the town mayor, and I just baked the town’s cookies.

  That was not jealousy, mind you. We all had a role to play, and I was fine with that. Donny’s gifts were a bit more like mine in that they revolved around her profession. She was the best hair stylist in all of Castor’s Corner.

  Heck, maybe even the world. She could see within a person and give them a do that reflected their very soul. With cutting hair, she healed whatever ailed a person. Be it a thorn in one’s side or a philosophical problem, looking good did a lot to bolster confidence, and that alone could solve problems.

  I already knew what I could do with my magic. Food for the soul was definitely a thing, but I nourished bodies.

  Literally.

  Cookies, cakes, croissants, rolls, pastries, donuts, and more. I baked them with magic, poured in real feeling, and imbued each morsel with my craft, gifting it to those who bought and consumed my goodies.

  Magic at its finest.

  Serving our community was what we three did. Tonight, we would reinforce our wards, protecting the town, and yes, we would do it bare-assed naked while dancing a conga line around a sparkling pink bonfire.

  Afterwards, there would be a lemon bar tasting at my place. I’d spent the past week working on the recipe for these sweet and tangy goodies. I think I might have nailed the whole zero carb thing sans magic.

 

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