Page 23 of Hex and the Kitty (Whispering Pines #9)
TWENTY-THREE
T he aroma of cinnamon and nutmeg wafted through Warrick’s office, mingling with the rich scent of dark roast coffee. He lifted the lid on the pastry box Molly had sent over—miniature apple turnovers, still warm from the oven. A handwritten note accompanied them:
For the firefighters who keep us safe. Extra cinnamon for the chief. - M
His fingers traced the looping script, and his tiger stirred beneath his skin, rumbling with satisfaction. Three nights had passed since their evening at the bakery, and her scent still lingered in his memory—vanilla, wildflowers, and something uniquely her .
Mate .
The word had thundered through him the moment their hands touched over those Fire Lotus petals. His tiger had recognized what his human side had been slow to accept—after a lifetime of searching, he’d found her.
A knock interrupted his thoughts.
“Enter,” he called, closing the pastry box.
David stepped in, eyebrows rising at the sight of Warrick’s coffee cup. “Is that an actual smile on your face, Chief? Should I be concerned? Call for medical backup?”
Warrick schooled his features, but the warmth in his chest refused to fade. “Just enjoying breakfast.”
“Uh-huh.” David crossed his arms, leaning against the doorframe. “Nothing to do with those turnovers from a certain magical bakery, then?”
“They’re well-made.”
“The pastries or the baker?” David’s eyes crinkled with mischief. “Because I’ve worked with you for three months, and I’ve seen you smile exactly twice—both times after seeing Molly Hues.”
Heat crept up Warrick’s neck, an unfamiliar sensation for someone who’d perfected stoicism over centuries. “Don’t you have equipment to check?”
“Already done.” David helped himself to a turnover. “The guys wanted me to ask when you’re bringing her around for dinner at the station. They’ve got a betting pool on whether she can make you laugh out loud.”
“They what?”
“Hey, you’re the one who went from brooding tiger to besotted kitten overnight. It’s fascinating to witness.”
Warrick growled low in his throat, but there was no real threat behind it. His tiger nature found no offense in David’s teasing—the man had earned his trust, a rare achievement.
“The school tour is at nine,” Warrick said, changing the subject. “Engine three ready?”
“Polished to perfection. But you’re not getting off that easy.” David took a bite of turnover and groaned appreciatively. “Damn, these are good. No wonder you’re smitten.”
“I’m not—“ Warrick stopped himself, the denial dying on his lips. What was the point in lying? His tiger had made its choice. “She doesn’t know.”
David’s teasing expression softened. “That she’s your mate?”
Warrick’s head snapped up. “How did you?—“
“My sister married a shifter, remember? I know the signs. The protective hovering, the constant awareness of her location, the way you breathe deeper when her name comes up.” David brushed pastry crumbs from his uniform. “For what it’s worth, I think she feels it too. Just doesn’t have the shifter instinct to recognize it instantly.”
The observation aligned with Warrick’s own thoughts. Molly responded to him—her magic flaring when they touched, her pulse quickening when their eyes met—but humans and witches didn’t experience the same immediate recognition. Their bonds formed gradually, through time and connection.
“I need to move slowly,” Warrick murmured, more to himself than to David. “Give her time to feel what I already know.”
“Well, the Fireman’s Ball next month would be a good opportunity.” David grinned. “Reed suggested you might want to ask for her help planning it. Something about magical decorations.”
Warrick narrowed his eyes. “Reed suggested it? Or you all decided it for me?”
“Does it matter? It’s a perfect excuse to spend time with her. Unless you’d rather handle color schemes and centerpieces yourself?”
The image of himself fussing over table arrangements made Warrick snort. “Point taken.”
“Good. Now grab your coffee. Those kids will be here soon, and Peterson’s already setting up the demonstration.”
After David left, Warrick pulled out his phone, and Molly’s contact information displayed on the screen. He hesitated only briefly before typing:
The turnovers are exceptional. Thank you for thinking of us. How’s your morning?
He paused, then added:
You’ve been on my mind.
The admission felt both foreign and right—like stepping into sunlight after too long in shadow. His thumb hovered over the send button for only a moment before pressing it.
Her reply came almost immediately:
My morning’s better now! The bakery is quiet, so I’m experimenting with those Fire Lotus petals you brought. They keep changing colors whenever I think about our date. Is that normal? Or are they just magically misbehaving like my rolling pins?
Warrick’s lips curved upward. The petals responded to emotion—particularly desire. That they reacted when she thought about him spoke volumes.
They’re working exactly as they should, he replied. I’d like to see these experiments myself. Are you free tomorrow evening?
Her answer made his tiger rumble with pleasure:
For you? Absolutely. Bakery closes at 6. I’ll save something special.
Warrick slipped his phone into his pocket, the day suddenly brighter despite the mountain of responsibilities ahead. He’d lived centuries without her, never knowing what—who—he was missing. Now that he’d found her, every moment apart felt wasted.
The station’s alarm bell interrupted his thoughts, signaling the imminent arrival of the school tour. He headed toward the garage where his team prepared for the demonstration.
The garage gleamed under fluorescent lights, concrete floor polished to a mirror finish. Fire engines stood at attention, chrome fixtures catching the light. His firefighters moved with practiced efficiency, setting up safety demonstrations for the children.
Pride surged through him. In just three months, he’d transformed this station from chaos to precision. Not bad for an “outsider.”
“Chief!” Peterson called, waving from beside the main engine. “We’re ready when you are. I’ve got the hoses prepped for the water demonstration.”
“Excellent. Remember to keep the pressure low—we want to impress them, not terrify them.”