Home > Witch Please (Fix-It Witches #1)(8)

Witch Please (Fix-It Witches #1)(8)
Author: Ann Aguirre

   “I’ve never had any of that.”

   “You look like you’re fine with continuing that streak. Don’t you ever want to walk on the wild side? It might be refreshing.”

   “When you put it that way, maybe I am too prone to playing it safe.” He held out a hand. “Would you let me try some?”

   It felt strangely intimate to pass him the juice, considering they hadn’t known each other for that long, almost like a precursor to a kiss. Danica watched his throat work as he swallowed, and she imagined how lovely it must be for the bottle. He downed a quarter of her drink, and he was smiling when he handed it back.

   “Good?”

   “Excellent. Now I’m curious about your other creations.”

   That was an opening if she’d ever heard one. The words rushed out before she considered them properly. “We could meet again tomorrow? I’ll bring some for you too.”

   Oh no. I have to stop doing this. Bad idea, so bad.

   His dazzling smile nearly melted her into a pool of warm oil—perfect for a massage, and his hands must be wonderfully strong. “I’d love that. Same time?”

   So bad it’s good. Despite her misgivings, Danica didn’t recant.

   “I’ll be waiting.” This is a date, right? Not a high-end one, but the first step in a romantic direction. Don’t do this, Gram’s voice scolded in her head. Don’t be like your mother.

   “Since you’re bringing drinks, I’ll cover dessert. I’ll whip up something extra special.” Those words, delivered in a husky tone, made her toes curl. Plus, he was promising to bake. For her. And considering the products at Sugar Daddy’s, it would be amazing.

   Okay, I can’t resist. I’ll just have a little fun with him. I can quit anytime.

   ***

   As soon as Titus got back to work, he had to brag. “Guess what?”

   “Your dream girl proposed,” Maya said, as she wiped down the front counter.

   “Now see, when you go that big, it makes my actual news look small. But never mind. I ran into Danica at lunch, and we agreed to meet tomorrow. This is destiny, right?” He rambled on, knowing he sounded overeager and maybe even desperate. “She was just randomly sitting at my usual lunch spot. What are the chances? Maybe this time…” He couldn’t bear to speak that hope out loud, not even to Maya.

   Maybe this time I’ll be lucky in love. I wonder if Danica likes dogs.

   His sister smirked, but that was her default expression, so he ignored it and headed to the back to get started on prep for tomorrow. Stan, the baking assistant, had already gotten a head start, and they had a part-time cleaner who came a couple of times a week to assist with deep scrubbing. When they first opened, he’d run the place on a shoestring, making do with only Maya’s help.

   “You look chipper,” Stan said.

   “I guess I am.”

   “Something good happen?”

   While they were friendly, Titus wasn’t about to get into his personal life when the development barely counted as anything. “Maybe. Too soon to call.”

   By three, the kitchen was gleaming, and everything was ready for his 4:30 a.m. bake-a-thon. Stan waved as he pulled off his apron. “See you tomorrow, boss.”

   At first, it was weird hearing that from a man twice his age, but Stan was working because he wanted to. The man had retired as a Realtor and took a baking class because he was bored. Surprisingly, he had a knack for it, and he said he enjoyed staying busy. That was fine with Titus because Stan was prompt, hardworking, and reliable.

   He didn’t bother asking Maya about dinner. These days, she wasn’t home a lot, and he suspected she was dating someone she hadn’t introduced yet. He was content to wait while she figured things out, especially if it meant she wouldn’t give him a hard time about Danica. God, even the name was cute.

   Wonder if anyone calls her Dani.

   It was straight-up embarrassing how hard he was crushing, worse than high school. If anything, he had even less game than he’d had then because he’d managed to ask Melissa Beck to the prom without embarrassing himself, but there had been plenty of humiliation on the date; he recalled how he’d caught her making out with someone else that night.

   We’re meeting up tomorrow. I’m still in this, even after all my goofy jokes.

   “Are you good?” he asked Maya.

   “Let me run to the bathroom, then you can take off.”

   “No problem.”

   After his sister returned to the counter, he waved and headed out. Outside, the day was bright and warm, edging toward eighty-five. People wore shorts and tank tops, soaking in the sun, and he spotted a few familiar faces, couples holding hands as they walked around the square. The old courthouse didn’t serve gubernatorial functions anymore; instead, it housed quaint shops full of original art, pottery, and hand-sewn quilts. There was also a local interest museum run by volunteers.

   When he was a senior in high school, his family had moved here from Chicago, and he’d hated it at first. No clubs to sneak into; only one theater, and it wasn’t even a multiplex. A stupid bowling alley. No art museums, no Museum of Science and Industry. Fondly, he recalled running on a human-sized hamster wheel. I wasn’t even a little kid. And the Shedd Aquarium. There used to be a worker who spoke in a monotone while extolling the virtues of fish. This is a lake sturgeon. Do not touch the sturgeon. The guy had said “sturgeon” like forty times in his monologue and pronounced it with odd emphasis, cracking up everyone in Titus’s group.

   When they first moved here, he couldn’t wait to get out of St. Claire. He’d started at Loyola; then his mom had gotten sick, and he’d come back to help. She’d always enjoyed baking, and it became something for them to do together. She hung on and fought while he went to culinary school nearby and got his degree in baking and pastry arts, and she helped him get started with Sugar Daddy’s. He had been so convinced that she’d pull through. Once she was gone, he could’ve sold the business, but he didn’t want to anymore. For him and Maya, St. Claire was home. Small-town life with reasonable access to city culture had grown on him.

   His phone rang as he got in the car, odd enough that he checked the number. His friends would text, as voice calls were retro. Ugh. I should have known. Titus forced a smile, hoping the expression would infuse his voice with a semblance of warmth.

   “Hi, Dad. How’s it going?”

   “I have some great news!”

   While he suspected their definitions of “great” weren’t at all the same, he still asked, “Oh yeah? What’s up?”

   “I wanted you to be the first to know. Susan is pregnant!”

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