Page 23 of Bewitched & Bewildered (Witches of Starbrook #1)

Chapter 23

Ozan

I should see it coming, but I’m blindsided when I stop by the apothecary to find the lights off and a sign on the door:

Permanently Closed.

There’s nothing that could have prepared me for this.

I’m not the only one who notices the change. Heads turn to look at the sign whenever they pass by. My shop has been slow, too.

Is their business slow enough for them to give up?

The shop already looks closed, but I have a feeling it’s not. I take a risk, banging on the door the way she did mine weeks ago. My fists rattle the glass.

At first, I think no one will answer. There’s a chance the shop is already vacant.

After a few moments, Juniper shuffles out from the back.

When she opens the door, my heart falls into my stomach .

Her face is tear-stained, and her eyes are red-rimmed. Her pretty little outfits—the ones that make her look like Morticia Addams incarnate—are gone. She’s in sweatpants, with her hair in a messy bun.

Something is wrong. How did I miss it?

“What’s going on?” I step inside.

“It’s nothing.” She shakes her head.

This is the first time I’ve seen her cry.

“It’s something,” I say. “The shop is shutting down? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t want to ruin our fun.”

“You wouldn’t ruin anything. What happened, baby?”

I never use the honorific outside of the bedroom, but even in this setting it doesn’t make her so much as flinch.

“I’m not happy.” She sniffles.

“You’re not?”

“No. Not with the business—and not at all. I’m not good at this…”

She sounds like me before my divorce. I was stuck in a job I hated and a field I wasn’t passionate about. And, like me, I know she will find something better.

“What? You think you’re not meant for business?” I ask.

She shrugs.

“Running a business is hard, but you’re doing great—you’ll get used to it in a few years. I’m struggling too.”

“No.” She lets out a sad laugh. “It’s not about the business. It’s this business. I don’t love it…and I see how much you love it.”

“I do.” I touch her arm. “You deserve to do something you love.”

“I know, and I feel good about this decision. It feels right, but.”

“It doesn’t seem like you feel good about it.”

“It’s not that easy. A business decision is one thing.” Her voice trembles. “This feels like I’m saying goodbye to my mom!” She lets out a loud sob, and her shoulders shake.

My heart cracks and shatters. Mrs. Hawthorne was a kind woman. She always made me feel welcome in the shop. If she could put me at ease, I can only imagine what she did for her daughters.

I wrap my arms around Juniper, and she accepts the crushing hug, her hands meeting at the base of my back. I bury my face in her hair.

“Saying goodbye is hard”—I kiss the top of her head—"but this place will still be here. You’re not leaving it behind.”

She shakes in my arms, and all I can do is keep kissing her forehead, her hair, her cheek. Anything I can touch. She leans into each brush of my lips, and I know it’s not enough, but it’s something. I’m giving her everything I can.

She doesn’t let go.

After a few minutes, her breathing calms. She wipes away any tears my shirt didn’t already soak up.

“Sorry,” she mumbles, pulling away to look at me.

“Don’t apologize.” I hold her face and use my thumb to swipe away a tear. “I want to thank you.”

“For what?” She lets out a pained laugh.

“For letting me be here. I know it isn’t easy for you.”

There’s a moment where I think she’ll deny it, but she doesn’t.

“You’re right. None of this is easy. It hurts.”

“It’s allowed to hurt.” I take her hand, stroking the back of it with my thumb. “How are you getting home, baby? I don’t want you driving like this.”

“I’m walking.”

“No. You’re not. Not like this,” I say. “I’m driving you. ”

I’m expecting an argument, but she surprises me again.

“Okay,” she says. “That would be nice.”

Juniper is different than I’ve ever known her. In my truck, she looks small and fragile. She’s pushed to the other side of the vehicle, with her cheek pressed to the window. I hope it’s imprinted there forever.

The ride home isn’t long, but I feel better knowing she isn’t walking around with tears streaming down her cheeks.

“Do you need anything from me?” I ask as I park outside her house.

She shakes her head. “You already gave me everything I need. Thank you again.”

“Enough of that.” I hold her chin and turn her face so she looks at me. “You really don’t have to thank me. It is an honor to take care of you. I wish you had let me do it sooner.”

She exhales shakily, and then… she smiles. Finally, a smile. My chest grows warm. At the end of her terrible day, she’s smiling for me .

“I’m letting you do it now,” she says.

“You are.”

“I’m going to spend the night… I don’t know. Sleeping. Drinking hot chocolate.” She shrugs. “So, don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine.”

There’s nothing she can say to keep me from worrying, but when she opens the car door, I let her go.

Juniper is the one who pauses.

“Hey, Oz?”

My heart pounds. “Yeah?”

“Do you want to come inside?”

She already knows the answer. She must . I’m out of the car before I can respond. What if she changes her mind? I’ll survive—but I want to be there for her .

I want her to let me in, and she is.

If Juniper is worried about her sister seeing us together, she doesn’t show it. We’re holding hands as we approach the front door.

OZAN

Taking him inside is a risk. My sisters are lurking everywhere… but they are as glum as I am. We’re all saying goodbye to a piece of our mother, even if Ozan insists we’re not. They’ll understand why I have a friend over. I need someone to cheer me up.

They may be less understanding about the cheerful person in question. I still can’t believe Ozan is my friend, but he is. He may even be my best friend, aside from Maple, but I’ll never tell him.

My actions speak for me. Inviting someone into our house is an act of trust.

I don’t trust many people around my sisters, but Ozan has done everything to help us as a family. When Laurel was having a bad night, he helped me care for her. When the heater was broken, he fixed it.

And he’s here with me now when he could have left. Hell, he could have let me walk home alone. Of course, he wouldn’t do that. Ozan is present in my life, fiercely fighting for a place in my heart, and I still don’t know how to accept that he’s already there. He more than earned that place.

Our living room is less cluttered these days. It’s mainly because I’ve had more time to clean, but there’s more to the story. The current round of renovations and repairs is over. My sisters cleaned up most of their mess… and much of my mother’s clutter, too.

We’re letting go of her, and none of us know how to feel about it.

There’s still a stack of books on the coffee table. The room still smells of cedar and sandalwood. Some things will never change. It’s warm thanks to the crackling fire, and we still don’t have central heating. A red, handmade quilt is folded on the couch, with a crochet blanket on top.

It’s home. No matter how many boxes we put away, my mom is still here.

I think she’s happy for me. This may be the first time I’ve felt it—her spirit, the thing everyone says I should feel. Whether witch, vampire, werewolf, or mundane… they all say her spirit is still with me.

It’s not until Ozan looks at me, with his hand in mine and his eyes crinkling with warmth, that I feel it.

A powerful rush of emotions runs through me, and even during my most morose hour, I find myself smiling back at him. It’s small and feeble, but it’s there.

“Sit here,” I say. “I’ll make us some hot chocolate.”

He opens his mouth like he wants to argue, but I won’t hear it. I push on his giant shoulders, and down he goes.

“Let me know if you need help,” he says.

I’m already halfway to the kitchen.

To say I’m bad in the kitchen would be an understatement. Our mother tried to teach all of us to cook, to various degrees of success, but I’m spoiled by Maple. I hardly know how to make a thing…

I can make hot chocolate. I make it by hand, too, putting on a saucepan of milk and adding chunks of dark chocolate. It’s better than the powder. Maple won’t allow powdered hot chocolate in our home, anyway.

I sprinkle in ground cinnamon, stirring clockwise to add intention. I may not be a kitchen witch, but this is practically a potion.

It’s an intention for joy.

And, if Aphrodite allows it…

For love.

When I return with our hot chocolate, Ozan is still there. I sit with one leg tucked under the other and turn to face him.

He leans forward, reaching for a saucer on the coffee table.

“It’s hot,” I say.

“But it looks so good.” He wets his lips. “I’ll risk it.”

“No!” I laugh and grab his hands. “You’ll burn yourself.”

The energy between us softens. His head tilts to the side, and his warm eyes wander over my face with gentle interest. Neither of us pulls our hands away.

I’ve been denying my feelings for him for so long, but when he looks at me like this…it feels like he knows. He can strip me bare, down to my soul, with a single glance.

“You probably have a potion for that.” He clears his throat. “For the burns, I mean.”

“I don’t.” I click my tongue. “Don’t make me brew something on my night off.”

I have many nights off ahead of me. I try not to let the thought be a bother.

“Oh, no. We can’t have that,” he says.

I’m beginning to love how he smiles. There’s a dimple on his right cheek, and while he isn’t freshly shaven, his facial hair is sparse enough that I can see the little dent. I let go of his hand, my thumb brushing against his dimpled cheek.

It disappears along with his smile. The look in his eye becomes one of intensity.

I’m expecting him to make a move on me, but he doesn’t. He’s perfectly still instead, a gentleman through and through.

“Kiss me,” I whisper, looking up at him with a plea.

He leans down, brushing his lips against mine with a tenderness I don’t expect. He’s choked me, filled me, spanked me… all at my request, of course. It still surprises me when he treats me like I’m soft.

I melt under his gentle touch. For once, I don’t deepen the kiss. I press my lips sweetly to the corner of his mouth, smiling against his skin.

“Juniper…”

He starts, but the end of the sentence never comes. The front door flings open, and Laurel stares at us wide-eyed. A scarlet flush appears on my cheeks as he hurriedly leans away.

“Hey,” I say, doing my best to sound casual.

“Hey!” I’m expecting Laurel to say something embarrassing, but she doesn’t. She shuffles through the room with a secret smile on her face. “I’m just—going up to my room. I’ll be up there! If you need anything!”

“We won’t need anything,” I say.

“Okay!” she squeaks, running away.

Ozan is wearing another smile. “She’s funny.”

“She is the funniest of my sisters.” I chuckle. “Don’t tell Maple I said that.”

“Ah… I don’t know about that. I still remember the 2010 talent show. Maple’s standup was something else. ”

“I always thought she should go pro, but she fell in love with cooking instead.”

“There’s time for her to do both. It’s never too late to try something new.”

We’re talking about Maple—but with how he looks at me, I know he’s trying to talk about my situation.

I don’t want to hear it.

“Your hot chocolate is ready.” I lean forward to pick up my saucer.

It’s thick enough to require a spoon. French hot chocolate is superior, even if it’s too rich for some.

Ozan doesn’t seem to have a problem with it. He stirs it around before spooning a bite into his mouth.

“Are you sure you’re not the kitchen witch?” He groans. “This is delicious.”

“Now, we’re both insulting Maple.” I snort. “I may have put some magic in it, but it’s nothing special.”

“Oh yeah? What kind?” He lifts a brow.

“Just a blessing. Something to bring us both happiness.”

He leans back on the couch and rests his hot chocolate on his knee. “You know what? I think I’m already there.”

“I think… I’m getting closer, but I still don’t know where to find it.”

“Do you want to talk about it? I can help.”

I shake my head. “I’m not ready to talk about what I’m doing next. I’m still mourning…”

“Your mom?”

“That,” I say, “and the dream that I could live up to her.”

He squeezes my shoulder. “You need to stop comparing yourself to her, baby. She wouldn’t want that.”

“I know…” My soft voice breaks. “I’m trying.”

Seeing myself as my own person is an adventure that will take baby steps, but I’ll get there. I feel closer to it each day.

“What happened to your mom?”

His words make me freeze. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, some rumors are going around town, but…”

“What kind of rumors?” My eyes sharpen.

What happened to my mother was a tragedy, and we tried to keep the details in the family.

He shifts closer. “They’re saying a demon attacked her.”

My jaw tightens. “Well… they’re right?”

He shakes his head. “What do you mean?”

“Why act so surprised? Apparently, everyone already knows.”

“I was hoping the rumors weren’t true. You know how the folks around town are…”

“Nosy gossips,” I mutter, setting down my hot chocolate.

Today has been a disaster, and now, on top of it all, I’m having this conversation.

Ozan watches me quietly, waiting for me to say something more.

“It’s true. It happened at the shop.” I clear my throat, trying to collect myself. “I was the one who found her.”

“Juniper…”

“If I had been a few minutes earlier…” My face crumbles. “I could have done something to save her.”

“No.” He sighs softly. “You don’t know that. You could have been hurt, too. Your mom wouldn’t want that.”

“I guess…”

“Why did they attack your mother? I don’t understand why anyone would want to hurt her.”

“Neither do I.” A tear falls down my cheek.

He doesn’t hesitate to lean in and wipe it away. “We don’t have to talk about this.”

“I want to.” I face him directly. “It’s frustrating that they’re spreading rumors around town, but I want you to know.”

I haven’t talked to anyone about this. Even though my sisters know, I still haven’t told them what it was like to find her… and everything that came after.

It’s been lonely, but I won’t burden my sisters with the flashes of fear that still cross my mind. At last, I have someone to listen to me… someone safe .

“Thank you.” He holds my cheek beneath his big hand and rubs his thumb against my skin. “This is hard to talk about, isn’t it?”

“It is. It feels impossible.” There’s a truth—or maybe a lie—that’s been digging into my chest for months. It longs to break free now, but my voice shakes as I say it. “I could have saved her. I was the only one who could have.”

“No.” His jaw tightens. “You know that’s not true. The fates?—”

“Oh, screw the fates.”

“I agree.” He presses his lips to my forehead. “You can’t blame yourself. This isn’t your fault.”

I don’t know if I believe him yet, but it’s what I need to hear. I needed these words for months —for a year. I crumble, collapsing in his arms. Sobs escape as I lose myself to the sorrow…

And the relief.

He soothes me as I break down, and for the first time since her death, I don’t feel alone. I have to take care of my sisters, and I may not ever be comfortable letting them do the same for me…

But, for a moment, I let Ozan hold me. I give him the job instead.