Page 17 of Of Poison & Pumpkins (Of Witches & Men #3)

CHAPTER TWELVE

Elias

T he next few days are a whirlwind of tension as cops continue checking on Rynn’s store.

We had every intention of visiting the unicorn sanctuary, but since Rynn’s mysterious phone call, she has been conveniently busy.

It’d be nice if she trusted me enough to share who called and what they said that put her panties in a twist.

Standing in my store, I glance outside for the hundredth time, in case Rynn crosses my sightline. She doesn’t. In fact, I don’t think she’s stepped outside Palooza at all.

“Hey man, whatever happened to that guy sleeping on your girlfriend’s couch?” Zanther finishes restocking a shelf with pumpkin-shaped pots.

I tear open a package with my teeth and pull out a new order of fifty pumpkin pillowcases. “She’s not my girlfriend.”

“You’re still sleeping at her place, right?”

I stretch my neck, trying to ease the kink that has been bothering me from tossing and turning on the floor for the past couple of nights. “I wouldn’t say I’m getting much sleep.”

“Nice, man,” Zanther says, elbowing me in the side. I instantly flinch, shielding myself from his incoming punch, but it never comes. “Jeez, you need to calm down.”

“Calm down?” My jaw clenches. “Calm down? I’m going fruggin’ insane at her place,” I hiss between my teeth, pointing out the window to her store. “She hums when she knits. It’s out of tune, but every time I hear it, I wanna kiss her. And she always leaves the light on in the bathroom.”

“And that’s a turn-on for you?” Zanther chuckles while opening another delivery package.

“You’re easy to please, bro. What else do you like?

Does she get your juices flowing when she doesn’t close the ketchup bottle all the way?

Or when there’s toothpaste left in the sink?

I’m not here to judge. What you find sexy is none of my business, but you still didn’t answer my question. Is that guy still staying there?”

“Yeah, he’s a total eggplant-blocker. Dunno why Rynn hasn’t kicked him out yet. But it’s not my apartment, not my ex, not my decision.”

Zanther blows out a deep exhale. “It must be killing you to know he has seen Rynn naked.”

I snatch his scissors and point them at his chest. “Don’t you dare picture her naked.”

He raises both hands, grinning wildly. “Well, fuck, Eli, now I did.”

“Zee!”

He jumps over the counter and hides behind a tower of pumpkin-decorated suitcases, using them as a barricade.

“Look, Mommy! They’re running with scissors,” a little boy yells, mouth hanging wide open.

I immediately hide the weapon behind my back and gesture to their aisle. “Congrats, you’re the lucky winner of the day! Twenty percent off your purchase.”

When I meet Zanther’s amused gaze again, he shakes his head. “Eli, get out of here. Drag your lady out of her den, then take her somewhere new, away from the drama here.”

“But … the store!” I gesture out wide. “And I have to finish ordering the billboard by the highway.”

“I’ve got it covered.” Zanther spins me around, grabs the scissors, and aims them at my eyes. “Go now, before I stab you in the face.”

I ignore his fake threat and study my brother. He’s hiding something. We stare each other down. I try to peel back the layers of our last few conversations. What is he keeping from me? He shifts under the scrutiny and looks away first.

Sudden realization strikes. “Zee, why do you suddenly have more time to help out here? Did you get fired?”

“Naw, I quit that place. I didn’t see myself working there when I was fifty, ya know? But Pumpkins is a fuckin’ gold mine, man. I could help you open one of these in New York. And San Diego. It’ll do great in Salem, I bet.”

He shouldn’t rely on my shop. If I don’t win the competition, there’s no chance it’ll stay open long-term. But now my brother has dropped a heap of responsibility on my lap. If Pumpkins fails, I can’t carry the burden of his future resting on my shoulders.

I rub a hand down my face. “I wish you would’ve talked to me about your plans before quitting.”

We march into the back and enter the freshly renovated space. The few items I owned are missing. Dumbfounded, I stare at the newly assembled table, chairs, and couch.

“Was everything destroyed by the water?”

“Nope, I packed it. That restoration company finished fast. Here’s your stuff,” he says, handing me a box.

“What the mother-almond-sucker, Zee? Why does it look like a staff break room? This is where I live.”

“Not anymore.” With a smile bigger than the Atlantic, he shoves me into the hallway, right before the door slams closed in my face.

“Hey!” I bang my fist on the wood. “You can’t do this.”

“Go take Rynn on a date. Think of her silhouette glowing in the romantic sunset lighting and all that shit.”

“Choke on a turd,” I mumble and leave him laughing on the other side.

As I walk back through my store, I meet Kurt’s eye and thank my lucky stars for such a supportive family.

Mom hasn’t had as much time to help since her realtor business exploded, but I never doubt she’d lend a hand if I needed her.

Though she can’t ever discover that I’m trying to bring Dad back into my life.

If there’s one thing that Daniela Perez despises in this universe, it is Noah Thoren.

Exiting the shop, I glance across the street and stop in my tracks.

A woman with purple streaks in her hair sits at the bus stop.

I do a double-take. Rynn absolutely hates public transportation.

I wait until a car passes, then jog over.

As I approach, she turns towards me, skin kissed by the evening rays, stealing my very breath.

Rynn pulls an earbud out. Her leg bounces a mile a minute and her hand anxiously taps her thigh. She glances down the street every few seconds anticipating the bus’s arrival.

“You hate buses,” I say.

“I’ll survive,” she says, not meeting my eye.

“Come on. I’ll drive you wherever you want to go,” I say. “I won’t ask a single question. Get up.”

That gets her attention. Rynn’s intense inspection of my face makes my nerves tingle. What answer is she searching for? The memory of our near kiss floods my mind like a tidal wave.

“You won’t ask any questions? No games?”

I bite my lip to keep from smiling. “I won’t say a single word.” When I hold out my pinkie for a promise, the corner of her lip spurts up.

“Fine. Where’d you park?”

* * *

After a frustrating thirty-minute drive filled with wrong turns and angry outbursts, we finally ride under the "Hooves for Love" sign. The road opens to a hilly, wide-open pasture framed by a long fence.

“Look!” Rynn points to the unicorn herd in the pasture. “They’re galloping! Oh, and see the minis? They’re flying!”

Golden glitter showers my windshield, and I almost feel guilty for turning on the wipers.

Before my car is in park, Rynn bolts out the door and sprints to the fence.

Oddly enough, her smile makes me think of the afterlife.

I’ve never believed in heaven or hell, but am certain there is something out there, an infinite higher power that grants us moments like this.

Or maybe we each have one guardian angel creating these tender times.

I suck in a deep breath tinged with the aromas of raw earth and other farm smells.

Rynn whistles loudly as she climbs onto the first rung of the fence, holding her phone out to snap pictures.

Two unicorns prance over, showing off their magnificent trot.

I swear one even tosses its mane like a model.

The first has unique pink and white stripes like a zebra and its friend’s purple tail is braided into a thick twist.

“They seem happy,” Rynn says, stretching her hand out, palm flat.

They munch whatever snack she offers, then nudge her hand for more.

When Rynn laughs, my shoulders loosen. Sometimes I’m unaware of how tense my body is until she relaxes me.

Goddess Above, all I want is to press my chest against her back, wrap my arms around her stomach and cradle her close so she can lean against me. Rely on me. Depend on me. Trust me.

“Nice suspenders,” a husky female voice says from behind.

Rynn ignores her, continuing to feed the unicorns. I greet the possible owner of the ranch with an awkward salute. From bottom to top, the woman is dressed the part. Thick boots rise to faded jeans and a plaid shirt. What doesn’t fit is her bald head.

“Hey there, I’m Elias. We’re from Oakmar, and we’re looking for Alexandra. Someone said she works here?”

“Says who?” The woman puts both thumbs in her pocket.

“Someone who used to date Alexandra.”

“I guess it’s good you’re here. Follow me to the barn. I think you need to see this,” the woman says. “I’m Alex’s aunt, Viv. Welcome to my sanctuary.”