Page 17 of Love’s a Witch (The Scottish Charms #1)
CHAPTER ELEVEN Knox
The snow was becoming a problem.
Scratch that, Sloane was becoming a problem.
I kept thinking of her silky red dress, my hands clenching with the need to touch her. It was undeniable, my attraction to her, and yet I knew that I needed to do what First Knight of the Iron Thistle Order would do—make her leave.
It would be one thing if all of Scotland were caught in an unexpected icy vortex, but since it was contained to just Briarhaven, I’d soon have to explain the situation to the regulatory authorities.
A conversation that rarely went well. Heavy snow had collapsed the awning in front of the Familiar’s Nest, a store catering to the needs of our familiars, and I’d spent all morning helping to build it back up.
Tucked on the corner of the square, the shop was painted a deep blue, with yellow-gold trim and a bright red door.
Sorcha, the shopkeeper, had called in my assistance as she didn’t want to use her magick in plain sight to clean up the mess of her front walk.
“Thanks for cleaning this up for me, Knox.” Sorcha leaned in the doorway, arms crossed over a knit sweater with bunnies on it, her gray hair braided back from her face. “I doubt we’ll have many tourists with this weather, but I wanted to err on the side of caution.”
“Nae bother.” I shrugged and finished clearing the splintered wood, throwing it in the back of my car.
“I think Haggis and Oswald deserve new toys for your hard work, don’t they?” Sorcha asked, holding the door open when I walked back to her.
“Oswald will pretend he isn’t interested, but if I get Haggis a toy and not him, he’ll be livid.”
“Come on, then, let’s pick something out.” Sorcha ushered me inside, and though I had a million other messes to clean up around town, I went, unable to resist new toys for my boys.
The shop was softly lit, the walls painted a deep maroon, and wicker baskets filled with toys lined one large table.
On the other side, shelves held more practical needs, like grooming supplies, medicines, and various harnesses that were more adaptable to a variety of different-shaped bodies.
Like familiars with wings. I paused. I’d heard through the small-town chatter that Sloane had received an emberwolf as a gift for her birthday, and now I couldn’t help but think that maybe I should also get her new arrival a gift.
I was going there anyway, after this, to berate her into leaving, again—but that didn’t mean I had to take it out on her new pet.
And if—no, when —Sloane finally left, it wouldn’t be like she could take the emberwolf with her.
Maybe I could convince him to move in with me at the castle.
As provost of Briarhaven, it was my job to meet any new familiars and assess if they were safe for the town.
While emberwolves had once been a threat to us, their domestication through the years had left them as nothing more than beloved companions.
Picking up a large circular ring with a large ball inside, I held it up. “Haggis will love this.”
“Aye, he will at that. Great to toss about but rolls a treat too.” Sorcha held up a box with several holes in it and shook it.
“What’s that?”
“A box with crackly paper inside. Oswald will love it.”
“I can’t believe I’m paying to buy a box,” I grumbled, and Sorcha chuckled. “Cats are nothing if not contradictory. Buy them a nice toy, and they’ll sit in the bag it came in.”
“That’s the truth of it.” I idled by the baskets. “Say, Sorcha… do you have any toys for an emberwolf?”
“An emberwolf, is it? Have you added to your pack?” Sorcha crossed the room and studied the baskets.
“Not mine, no.”
“Ah.” Sorcha’s warm brown eyes lit with consideration, and I did my best to head off any potential town gossip.
“The MacGregor sisters have a new addition to the family. I need to meet him and make sure he’s safe for Briarhaven.
Might be best to go in with a gift.” There.
My interest in the emberwolf was easily explained as part of my duty, and not because I wanted Sloane to look at me with appreciation. Nope, it wasn’t that at all.
“Is that the way of it, then?” Sorcha continued to look at me with that light in her eyes, and I internally groaned.
“Aye, that’s the way of it.” I picked up a squeaky dragon toy. “What do you think of this one?”
“I think a puzzle toy would be better.” Sorcha led me to another table that held a variety of structures, from a simple tray with sliding doors, to fully built castles with doors and windows that opened. “This one is particularly enchanted for emberwolves. Look… see this?”
Sorcha pointed to the doors of the castle. They looked to be of a sparkly, malleable material, and were a bright red.
“Flameproof. But if he does torch them, they’ll open to reveal the treats hidden inside.”
“That’s incredible.” And likely not cheap. I discreetly checked the price tag.
Sorcha caught me and gave me a knowing look.
“Aye, the price is quite dear. A present like this would certainly be considered a very nice gift for a close… friend.”
Oh, great. Now I was stuck in the position of having inquired about a gift for Sloane’s new addition, and if I didn’t buy it, then I was going to seem rude, and if I did, then the whole town would think my interest was something more than just friends.
“You know, I remember Sloane’s parents,” Sorcha said idly as she turned and opened a new delivery of what looked to be chew toys in the shape of dragons’ claws.
“A one-night stand that should have never turned into a relationship. They fed off each other. Their individual magick was like a drug to the other, until they burned themselves out. Can’t imagine there were too many nice gifts for the girls, though I know Broca did her best.”
Sorcha was giving me an out. My heart twisted at the image of a sullen Sloane, tenderhearted and angry, slouching in an alleyway. Gifts had come fast and easy in my household, even if warmth and affection were limited.
“In that case, I’ll take the castle.”
“Och, and that’s a grand choice. And let me know how Haggis gets on with his new ball. He should be able to toss it quite high in the air if he gives it laldy.”
“Aye, I will.” Sorcha rang my purchases up quickly, and before I could get stuck responding to another snow emergency, I headed toward the MacGregors’ house to drop off the gift for their new emberwolf.
Raven’s words had competed with thoughts of undressing Sloane throughout the night.
If Broca’s vision was accurate, I needed to shift focus and figure out a solution to this endless winter.
Not lust after the sexy witch. I paused outside the shop, gifts in hand, and watched as a worker hung up Christmas lights outside the Dragon’s Hoard.
We hadn’t even gotten through Halloween yet.
But I supposed it went with the theme of snow.
A memory surfaced of Sloane, standing tight-lipped as her mother picked up one item after another in the shop. I’d been shopping with my own mum, who had a veritable mountain of presents stacked on the checkout counter, while Sloane had hovered behind her mum, not touching anything.
A pretty woman with a riot of curls and sharp-looking eyes, her mother had checked the price on every item in the store before cursing softly beneath her breath.
“You’d think you’d price things a bit more fairly, Dorothy.”
Sloane had winced, her eyes flying to mine, her cheeks pinkening.
Immediately wanting to help, I rolled my eyes, making a goofy face. I was rewarded with a small smile, a flush of pleasure, and never had I felt more powerful.
“Mum, come on.” Sloane had tugged her mother’s arm, but she’d just thrown her off.
“It’s a damn shame, is what it is. Robbery.” Her mum spied the pile of presents on the counter, and I grimaced, knowing what was coming. “I guess only posh people are welcome here.”
“Everyone is welcome in my store,” Dorothy said from behind the counter, where she blithely rang up my mum’s items.
“Well, I think they’re a fair price,” my mum had chimed in, trying to help.
“Och, sod off.” With that charming rebuttal, Sloane’s mum had sailed from the store, slamming the shop door before Sloane could get outside.
“Never you mind her, Sloane. She’s just having a rough day,” Dorothy called, and I could have hugged the shopkeeper.
“Um, thanks…” Sloane had given me one more embarrassed glance before skittering outside, and I’d never wanted to follow someone more than I had in that moment. But we didn’t really know each other, and there was nothing I could do to protect her from the wrath of her mum.
“Such a shame.” My mum had turned to Dorothy, her eyes alight with excitement as they always were when she knew she’d get a chance for a good gossip. “You know, I heard they’re splitting up.”
“None of that nonsense here, darling. We don’t talk about people’s marriages.
Do we?” Dorothy had leveled my mum a look so severe that she’d immediately shut up and I’d been left with oh so many questions.
Sadness filled me. I wished I’d had the courage to give Sloane a gift from the shop, to maybe make her Christmas a touch nicer.
Two weeks later she’d been gone.
Shaking my head of the memory, I made my way to Sloane’s house, my memories making my intentions murky.
When Sloane opened the door, looking sleep-rumpled and cozy in a loose jumper and leggings, I had to pause as my thoughts scrambled in my brain, and momentarily I forgot why I’d even come here.
Flashes of the red silk were burned into my brain, and the contrast of curvy, sexy Sloane draped in silk, and warm, sleepy Sloane, looking like she’d just had a proper tumble, made self-control difficult.
Something I never normally struggled with.
Swallowing against my suddenly dry throat, I held up a bag.
“I come bearing gifts.”