Page 18 of Hex and the Kitty (Whispering Pines #9)
EIGHTEEN
“ F or what possible research purpose?” Molly demanded, though she was already pulling out more chairs and mugs, resigned to the impromptu gathering.
“The mating habits of flora witches and fire-fighting shifters, obviously,” Mari supplied, helping herself to a cinnamon roll. “Mmm, you made the orange-infused ones. You must be in a good mood.”
“I made them before you all invaded my kitchen,” Molly protested, but she couldn’t help smiling as the room filled with laughter and the chatter of her friends settling in.
The three toddlers formed their own little circle on the play mat Molly kept in the corner for exactly these occasions. Vienna, the oldest at nearly three, was already organizing the other two into what appeared to be a very serious game involving wooden spoons and measuring cups.
“So,” Tabitha prompted once everyone had food and coffee, “tell us everything. And don’t leave out the good parts.”
“There aren’t any ‘good parts,’” Molly insisted, but the wooden spoons on the children’s play mat suddenly did a little dance. The women all turned to look, then back at Molly with identical knowing expressions.
Molly sighed in defeat. “Fine. It was... nice. We talked. He tasted my experimental recipes. I tried working with the ingredients he brought. My magic went a little haywire, but nothing caught fire.”
“That’s it?” Luna pressed. “Just ‘nice’?”
Molly bit her lip, remembering how Warrick’s eyes had darkened when their fingers touched, how he’d moved through her bakery with that liquid grace, how he’d spoken of Paris as casually as she might mention last week’s grocery trip.
“He told me stories,” she admitted softly. “About places he’s been, things he’s seen. He talked about the World’s Fair in Paris, about hidden magical gardens that sang in the moonlight.”
The women exchanged glances.
“Three hundred-year-old shifters don’t share their memories with just anyone,” Mari noted, her voice gentler than before.
“He asked about my magic,” Molly continued, warming to the subject now. “Not just what I can do, but how I discovered it, what it means to me. He listened. Really listened.”
“That’s more than ‘nice,’” Fia observed, wiping Vienna’s sticky fingers. “That’s courtship behavior.”
“What? No, it’s just—he was being polite.”
“Shifters,” Celeste said authoritatively, bouncing Amara on her knee, “don’t do polite small talk. Not the way humans do. When they ask personal questions, they’re trying to understand your essence, your core self.”
“How do you know that?” Ellie asked curiously.
“I’m married to a wolf shifter,” Celeste reminded her. “When Kade was first interested in me, he asked about my childhood, my dreams, my fears—things no casual date would ask. Shifters make connections differently than we do.”
Molly’s heart did a little flip in her chest. Warrick had asked exactly those kinds of questions, had watched her with those intent golden eyes as she’d answered.
“Then there’s the gifts,” Luna added. “Exotic ingredients he’s collected in his travels? That’s not just a host gift, that’s showing you what he can provide, what experiences he can share.”
“You’re all reading too much into this,” Molly protested, but uncertainty crept into her voice. “It was just one evening.”
“One evening where his eyes changed color when he looked at you,” Fia pointed out. “That’s significant.”
“They did not...” Molly started, then paused, remembering how Warrick’s eyes had darkened to molten amber when their fingers had touched over the Fire Lotus petals. “Well, maybe a little.”
The women erupted in knowing laughter.
“Our little baker has caught herself a tiger,” Mari teased gently.
“I haven’t caught anyone,” Molly insisted, but her magic betrayed her again as a nearby rolling pin did a little somersault on the counter.
“Speaking of catching,” Tabitha leaned forward conspiratorially, “you need a strategy for the second date.”
“There is no second date,” Molly reminded them. “This was a one-time thing to get the town gossips off our backs.”
Six pairs of skeptical eyes regarded her.
“Fine, we agreed to meet again next week,” she admitted. “For consistency’s sake.”
More knowing laughter filled the kitchen.
“Consistency,” Luna repeated with a grin. “Is that what the kids are calling it these days?”
“Hush,” Celeste swatted Luna’s arm playfully. “Our Molly needs practical advice, not teasing.” She turned to Molly with a serious expression. “First things first—did he scent-mark anything in your bakery?”
“What?” Molly squeaked, nearly choking on her coffee. “No! Of course not. Why would he... is that a thing?”
“It’s definitely a thing,” Fia nodded solemnly. “Not obvious like peeing on furniture or anything. More subtle—brushing against doorways, touching things you touch regularly.”
Molly’s mind raced through the evening, remembering how Warrick had run his hand along the back of her chair, how he’d helped her dry dishes, his fingers lingering on the handles of mugs she used daily.
“Oh goddess,” she whispered. “He might have.”
The kitchen erupted in excited chatter.
“That’s serious interest,” Celeste confirmed, nodding sagely. “Kade did that for weeks before he finally asked me out. Their instincts run deep even when they try to be all civilized and human about courtship.”
“But he’s a shifter,” Molly said, giving voice to the worry that had been circling in her mind since last night. “He’s lived for centuries. He’s seen the world, experienced so much. Why would he be interested in me?”
The room quieted.
“That’s the real question, isn’t it?” Mari said gently, reaching across to squeeze Molly’s hand. “Not whether he likes you—he clearly does. But whether you believe you’re worthy of being liked by someone like him.”