Spells on Shelves

Chapter 34 || Leaving

The universe had to be laughing at me. The second I decided to steer clear, it spat him out right in front of my face.

I didn't know what threw me off more. The fact that he showed up with no warning, or that he was wearing...jeans. Dark jeans, paired with a tactical black jacket over an open olive-green shirt and black tee.

No sweats or holes in sight.

I hadn't realized how much the sweats made him feel more approachable. One look at him now, and anyone with a little sense would steer clear.

Clearly, I had none. Because all I wanted was to move closer.

The landline rang, and I blinked, realizing I had been gawking at him like some dork.

Rina darted toward it and picked it up.

"Spells on Shelves, Rina speaking?" She listened intently, brows furrowing. "One moment." She cupped the receiver. "It's Gabriel. Something about his new hobby?"

That did the trick. I sprang into action, rushing to her side. Did he blow up the forest by accident? Did he summon a horde of zombies?

I took the handset.

Gabriel was still talking. "...followed all the steps, but nothing happened. Jaggy wanted to make homemade jam."

"Jam?" I echoed, thrown off. No homunculus?

"Strawberry jam. Jaggy's idea. Thought ya might have something at the shop to grow 'em."

Out of the corner of my eyes, I saw Paxton exchanging a few words with Rina, then disappearing into the back. Rina, looking far too smug, grabbed her stuff, gave me a thumbs-up, and sauntered out the door.

"I do Gabriel, but—"

"Gabe," he corrected, sounding positively giddy. "We're pals, after all."

"Ah, yes, Gabe," I said distractedly. "Berries don't grow in November unless you have a greenhouse. It's the wrong season."

"Oh. Thought it was me."

We chatted a bit longer, but not knowing what had been said between Rina and Paxton made it hard to focus. After promising to help Gabe grow strawberries in the spring, I hung up and went to find Paxton.

I found him in the kitchen. What started as a small pot of rosemary had gone completely wild, sprawling across the windowsill and curling around the cabinets. Lemon balm and mint had been banished to the tops of the shelves, their vines spilling down in tangled waves. Lavender stretched so tall, its blossoms brushed the glass.

Paxton was pressing buttons on the coffee machine, looking utterly at home in my space. Butterflies spread through my stomach. It shouldn't be that easy to look hot while making coffee, but he pulled it off.

"Your plants are thriving despite the season," he remarked casually, his observant gaze flicking around the chaotic jungle that had taken over my kitchen.

"They're from Marietta," I explained. "No clue what she did to them, but they're growing like weeds."

He pushed a steaming cup toward me. "Figured tea for you. Rina said you're feeling a bit under the weather."

Flustered, I grabbed it and took a sip. He must have fixed it first because it was just the right temperature. The honey-sweet taste of mint soothed my nerves. He made it just the way I liked it. Was he just naturally perceptive or really good at reading me?

A sudden, horrible thought struck me. He couldn't have already noticed my crush when I'd barely figured it out myself... Right?

But he'd said that he wanted to talk.