Page 4 of Of Poison & Pumpkins (Of Witches & Men #3)

“Okay, okay, I can see you’re still skeptical. So let me erase all your hesitation. Rynnlee … you’re more beautiful than epic song lyrics, fiercer than a hailstorm.”

“You’re insane,” she says, but the corner of her lip twitches up as she tries to hide a smile.

“Debatable,” I reply.

Again, I wonder how much she’s changed since high school. Is she still vegetarian and afraid of public transportation? Does she still rock climb? Does she still have no patience for board games? Does she have a partner?

“You think this is okay?” Rynn gestures to the store’s shelves. “Y’all copied Palooza’s idea. We were the only specialty themed store till all this pumpkin shit invaded the street. This must be illegal.”

“The color purple is a great theme. We won’t intrude on your sales. You know what would be cute? If we sold purple pumpkins between our shops.”

Her frown only deepens. Fine. If she isn’t instantly enamored by my charm, then I’ll have to bring out the big guns, which means … cat!

“Goosie!” I yell. “Come here, boy!”

“A goose? You allow farm birds in here? That’s breaking health codes. You don’t mind if I take a picture to report this, right?” She pulls her phone out of the pocket of her black jeans.

A streak of orange fluff sprints across the top of a shelf, knocking over a recipe book containing every dessert with pumpkin. Goosie jumps down onto my shoulders, and I feed him a treat from my pocket. “I’m Peculiar Pumpkins’ owner, so we may as well meet up to discuss co-marketing strategies.”

“Wait …” Rynn holds up one hand, her jaw dropping. “Poppa Orange is your cat?”

“Poppa?” Zanther pushes from the wall, pointing his finger like a dagger. “Are you telling me that wicked demon spawned mini hellcats?”

Slowly, I move my throbbing arms enough to pull my sweet hairball off my shoulders, holding him straight out between Rynn and I. “Congratulations, my Goosie!” My gaze lasers onto Rynn’s sharp glare as I ask, “When do I get to meet these babies?”

She growls—a real-full-on wolf-like growl. “You’re impossible. You can’t meet them. Don’t even cross the line on the sidewalk.”

“The line?” It takes a second to understand. “Oh, lordie. Pleeeease tell me you drew a purple chalk line between our shops. Please. Oh my Goddess, that’d make my whole day.”

Rynn’s nose scrunches up in the same way as when she was caught by the teacher passing notes in high school.

“So, I’ll meet you at eleven-thirty? It’s a date? Wear red clothes, you know, so no blood will stain your top at the ritual.” I take a step closer, so Goosie’s outstretched paws push against Rynn’s shirt. Her scent consumes me in the best way—lavender.

Rynn scoops Goosie into her arms to support his fluffy butt.

“I will not sit by you. I will wear all white, and if you’re set on staying in Oakmar, don’t get your hopes up about winning on Halloween.

In fact, don’t even come to the festival.

I’d utterly hate to see your agonizing smile disappear when our store beats Pumpkins. ”

“Is that all?” I ask, while sending a shooting betrayal glance at Goosie, who is cozying up in Rynn’s arms, cradled against her chest. Or maybe I’m jealous.

Rynn waits a beat, jaw tight. “And you owe me half the supplies for Squiggles, Squirmy, and Squeaky. I’ll slip a bill under your door.”

She already named the kittens. That’s beyond adorable.

This woman will destroy me from the inside out.

Luna, I was such an idiot for not asking her out senior year.

What if we could’ve been together this whole time?

This feisty ray of sunshine could’ve been yelling at me for years if I had wised up earlier.

“Or … how about I get your number? You can text me the total … possibly send me hourly pictures of the S-team since I’ll be deprived without their itty-bitty paws.” When she seems out of quips, I add, “Don’t worry, tonight I’ll wear red so we’ll match.”

Rynn grunts like a unicorn and swivels on her feet, Goosie still clutched to her body like a shield.

“I’m taking Goose to meet his children,” she snaps over her shoulder.

On her way out, when the door’s pumpkin bell rings, I finally let my arms drop.

“Oh my god! That’s the girl you pined after! Your chemistry partner, right? The same one who refused to sign your yearbook?” Zanther flashes me a sarcastic thumbs up out of the corner of my eye, but I keep my focus on Rynn until she’s out of sight.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Blasphemy!!” Zanther lunges over the orange pillows by the pumpkin-shaped beanbag and rams his head into my stomach like a bull. “Admit you love her.”

I groan and kick his leg out, toppling him to his knees.

His forehead is inches from slamming into the corner of the pumpkin coffee table, but he catches himself and jabs an elbow into my side.

Another explosive grunt blasts out of me.

I wrap him in a chokehold, and accidentally knock over giant pumpkin candlesticks in the tussle.

“Surrender, you terrible Prince of Pumpkins!” Zanther yells.

“Only if you name your firstborn after me.”

“Already did!” Zanther shouts.

“What?!” I shout, and Zee laughs harder than he has all day. “You should see your face right now.”

“You asshat.” I throw a pumpkin stuffie at him. “You’d be a worse Poppa than Goosie.”

“Don’t you ever mention that sacrilegious beast in my presence again.”

Panting, I flatten out my clothes, then help Zanther to his feet. The pumpkin on the wall ticks to ten. Time flies when you’re bickering and wrestling.

Outside the window, the Ceremony committee is arranging the chairs by the fountain.

A few people have gathered, drinks in hand.

Interesting. My hometown never allowed alcohol during the monthly ritual, which had made it easier to hide my addiction from my friends. But I don’t want to linger on my past.

I grin at the thought of Rynn pacing a pathway into her carpet at home as she considers how to one-up me. There’s no chance in Abyss she’ll wear red tonight, so I’ll have to guess whether it’ll be black or white.

“Well, that was fun, but I’m gonna go to Shoanna’s Bar,” Zanther says, not knowing my weakness for the bottle.

“Wait, I need a favor.”

“Anything, bro.” He smiles, rubbing his arm where I punched him earlier.

“Switch shirts with me, asshole.”

He raises one brow. “You’re asking if I’d give the shirt off my back for?—”

“Shut up and strip, bro.”