Page 77 of Charmed, I'm Sure
“They’re crows,” I deadpan.
“They’re Pumpkinridge crows,” he corrects, his dimples flashing, and my stomach flutters as the butterflies take flight. I refuse to acknowledge it.
When we get to my house, Lady Bandit is perched on the porch railing, holding the soft pumpkin cookies with cinnamon cream cheese icing that I made for my after-Samhain recovery in her little paws. She’d better not have eaten them all or she will be homeless tonight.
She licks her paw clean of the icing as she chitters.
“See? Even she thinks this is a terrible idea. She’s asking why I brought the smelly dog home?”
Miles crouches down, whispering furiously into her little ear. His eyes flick to mine before he goes back to negotiating with the fur ball. “C’mon, Lady. I’m housebroken. Mostly. What if I shower before bed?”
The raccoon tilts her head, unimpressed as she brings the cookie back to her mouth, resuming her pre-interruption night.
I don’t have a chance to warn him before Nyx pops into existence on the porch, reeking of kettle corn and carnival smoke. He blinks between us and smirks. “Just fantastic. As if this night hasn’t been long enough, now the wolf is moving in. Lady Bandit, looks like you and I are sharing the guest bedroom tonight.”
“There is no guest room,” I snap. “There’s a couch. That’s it.”
Miles fist-pumps the air. “Looks like a slumber party to me. Who’s grabbing the snacks and who’s picking the movie?”
Both Nyx and I groan in unison as Miles swoops Lady into his arms, waiting by the door for me. How is it four in themorning and he is still this sunny and energetic?
He sprawls dramatically across the couch the second we’re inside, tucking his hands behind his head like he owns the place, his long legs dangling over the edge by a good foot or two. He doesn’t even look like it bothers him that the couch is too small for him. “This is perfect. Best night of my life.”
He tucks Lady into the crook of his arm, and she snuggles closer, purring as he strokes her fur. Hops leaps onto the couch from his terrarium, which he is supposed to be in, over to Miles, joining the apparent slumber party happening in my living room.
I toss a blanket at his face. “If you snore, you will be out in the yard before you can say, ‘pumpkin spice for life.’ Do you understand me?”
He peeks at me over the blanket, eyes warm and far too damn soft. “Goodnight, Trouble. Sweet dreams.” He practically purrs those last words.
I feel my cheeks warming as I spin around, hoping and praying to the moon and stars that he didn’t see it.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Sleepless in Pumpkinridge
Bellamy
You know what I didn’t know before tonight? There are exactly six trees outside my bedroom window. Oh, another one is that sunrise is precisely at 6:03 A.M.
Ask me how I know this? Oh, that’s because I didn’t sleep one single wink. Not a one! I tossed, kicked the blanket off, turned, pulled the blanket back on. But all I could think about was him.
His soft eyes, the dimple that is haunting me, and his never ebbing sunshine. The feel of his hand on my back. Don’t even get me started on the rampant thoughts from when he pulled me against him.
For someone who’s never had a single person touch her, never once gave a single guy a flicker of attention, I’m sure consumed with this particular one.
I swear I heard every single noise he made and I’m not even on the same floor. No, I’m upstairs behind a closed door, down the narrow hallway. But we all know fate loves to be petty. So I wouldn’t put it past her to turn the volume up on everything that has to do with the unwanted house guest.
First it was the couch squeaking when he rolled over. Then it was his low laugh, as if he can’t turn off his sunny disposition even in his dreams. What could he possibly belaughing at? At one point I swore he was murmuring words that no matter how hard I strained, I couldn’t hear. I legit had to fight the urge to sneak downstairs.
By 5:42 I was ready to smother him with a pillow. When 5:55 rolled around I was debating heavily how bad it would be if I hexed his vocal chords. I even looked it up on my phone. It was that serious. By the time the sun's morning rays blasted my corneas I was seconds away from begging the moon and stars to take me away.
Have you ever thrown the blankets back, laid in the bed like a starfish, staring at the ceiling, wondering what choice you made that led to that moment? That’s me today. I even throw the undignified fit by kicking my feet and growling. Stupid wolf shifter and his damn dimple with freckles.
I fling myself off the bed and stomp down the hallway into my bathroom. I splash water on my face, brush my hair, and even brush my teeth before heading downstairs. He doesn’t need to know that I didn’t sleep or what I look like first thing in the morning.
My living room is empty. I’d half-expected to find him still sleeping. Instead I found the blanket folded up and the pillow rearranged. Did he not sleep last night either? Surely he did since I heard his and Nyx’s snoring at one point.
Searching through my house, I hear him before I see him.