So of course, I open my mouth to demand what the hell is going on, but all that comes out is a blood-curdling scream.
Even over my yelling, I hear the delicate tinkling of the door’s bell, but before I can process what’s happening, Rowan and Linden are by my side asking me what’s wrong.
All I can do is point to the naked Adonis who’s defiled my favorite chair forever. I’m going to have to burn it. I can’t ever sit there again. Especially not to read.
Oh god, I inwardly groan as a steamy scene from Magnolia’s book enters my mind. Only, this time, I’m the main character in stupid floral panties and my partner is this hunk who’s getting to his feet. His two large hands cup his junk, but aren’t quite enough to disguise how very well endowed he is.
Fuck. My eyes bug out in shock.
“Erm,” I stammer, at a loss for words. “He’s penis…I mean, he’s…fuck.”
“Been a while, darlin’?” Linden smirks.
Can I punch him and claim I acted in shock? I settle for shooting daggers at him. Damn my code of ethics; I’d love to cast a little spell on him. Nothing too bad, but maybe literal blue balls for a week or two? Or maybe an inverted penis, every time he gets an erection. That could be fun. For me. Not him.
“I don’t know who this guy is. Why is he in my shop, and why the fuck is he naked?!”
“Well, usually, darlin’, when a girl and a guy like each other…”
“Shut up, or I will curse you.”
“Hey!” he protests indignantly.
“You some kind of whack job?” Rowan demands, stepping up to challenge the naked intruder.
“What? No!” the stranger insists, holding his hands up in a gesture of innocence. I swear that book has addled my brain or something, because I can’t help but drop my eyes down to look at him. It. Whoa.
“Ain’t that impressive,” Linden mutters. “You wait til you see what I can offer.”
“A fairy?” I taunt with a raised eyebrow.
“Fae. I’m not a fairy,” he growls. I shrug at him like I don’t give a shit, enjoying getting under his skin. Ha. He’s not so good with being on the receiving end, is he? If he can give it out, he needs to be able to take it.
Rowan clears his throat, and my eyes snap back to the current situation. Three topless hunks surround me. Naked stranger is an inch or so shorter than the twins—maybe just under six foot?—slightly more olive complexioned, but equally ripped and buff. His eyes are gorgeous, the color of tiger’s eye crystals, dark with flashes of gold.
The three of them have torsos so ridged, they’d give a cliff face a run for its money. I want to race ice cubes down their bumps the way I watched raindrops race down the window panes as a child. I could follow the trails with my tongue.
Shit, what is wrong with me?
“Explain,” I demand in a tight, stressed voice. It’s been a hell of a day. “Where’s Batfink?”
“Batfink?” Rowan asks.
“My dog.”
“That was a dog you were carrying in here?” Linden asks in disbelief.
“Yes,” I reply stubbornly. He doesn’t need to know that I’m just as confused as everyone else about Batfink. I don’t care what he is; he’s mine.
Naked new boy has raised his hand like he’s in school or something.
“Yes?” I ask him slowly.
“It’s me. He’s me.”
“Huh?”
“The dog. I’m, errr, Batfink.”
Shut the front door!
“What the fuck?!” I whisper-yell.
“Can you grab me some clothes? There’s a blue pickup outside. You’ll find some in there,” Batfink asks Rowan, who nods and disappears. Linden, the bastard, just stands there with a shit-eating grin on his face like he’s about to enjoy the show.
“You slept in my bed!” I accuse.
“You made me get shots in my ass!” he fires back, crossing his muscly arms over his chiselled chest.
“Yeah, well, if I ever see you as a dog again, I’m taking you to the vet and he can shove a thermometer up your—”
“Assuming that you’re not in any immediate danger, I’d say that my brother and I can leave,” Linden interrupts with a drawl.
“Yes. Thank you,” I reply tightly as he leaves.
“I’m not a dog!” Batfink cries indignantly.
Just then, Rowan sticks his head in and throws a pile of clothes at Batfink, who catches them expertly.
“What’s your name and what are you?” I ask suddenly feeling foolish for calling him Batfink and for not knowing he was a goddamn shifter.
“Ash,” he replies. “And I’m a fox.”
“I feed a family of foxes in my garden. You’re not a fox.”
“I’m a fennec fox.”
“I don’t know what they are.”
“Well, you thought I was pretty cute.” He rubs a hand through his hair and gives me this lopsided sheepish grin that’s all boyish charm and cute. Fuck me, he has dimples.
“That was before you conned me into spending two hundred dollars on supplies for a new pet dog that I now don’t have!” My hands are on my hips and I’m staring at him fiercely, trying not to ogle his hot body or swoon over his dimples.
“I’ll get you a dog,” he promises.
“I don’t even know you, I’m not letting you buy me a dog!” I scoff.
“How about a drink tonight instead? To explain and apologize.”
“I’m going out with Rowan,” I quickly invent.
“You are?” Rowan turns to me, eyebrows raised.
“I am. You had an apology you wanted to give?” I remind him.
“Right. I’ll see you tonight then. At Vee? Eight O’clock?”
“Perfect! I’ll come too and you can hear both of our apologies,” Ash jumps in. “I’ll see you there!”
“No, wait—” I start to call out but they’ve both gone.
Great. How the hell have I managed to land myself on a double date with my almost-killer and my not-a-dog?
And it’s not even lunch time.
Chapter Seven
The rest of my day is blissfully normal. Well, normal by Silver Springs’ standards. I had a troll come in looking for a hair growth tonic. I did warn him that it was made for humans and that slight species side effects may involve uncontrollable hair growth everywhere, but he didn’t seem to mind. Seemed quite excited by the prospect actually. Then I had a run of tourists coming in to browse and buy some random bits. I gave two crystal healing treatments, some reiki, a runes reading, and several card pulls. It was such a busy afternoon, but that was just what I needed to take my mind off all the craziness of the morning.
It was only when I climbed into my cherry truck and saw the bags of dog stuff next to Batfink’s empty space that a hollow sort of emptiness settled in my chest. I miss the little furball. It sounds stupid because he was only there for one night, but I was really looking forward to having him around and not being at home alone anymore. I might seriously have to look into getting a dog; there’s no way I can go back to Calluna and tell her that I need a refund on all this stuff because my dog wasn’t actually a dog at all. I wonder if she realized? She knows everything there is to know about animals, and she said it wasn’t a dog. And there was that knowing little smirk she gave me as we left…