A tall, broad man burst into the clearing, his jet-black hair sticking out at odd angles, a thick beard swallowing half his face. His wild eyes locked on hers, and for a split second they just stared. Then the bushes behind him rustled again, and his face drained of all color.
Before Maude could even process it, helungedtoward her.
She raised her stick in defense. “Listen, Bigfoot, I’ve had aday?—”
“Quick,” he blurted, panic dripping from every word. “I need you to pretend to be my girlfriend.”
Maude froze, one eyebrow shooting skyward. “I’m sorry, what?”
“My girlfriend,” he repeated, dragging a massive hand through his equally massive beard. “You’re my girlfriend. Right now. Please.”
Her eyes widened, the cursed grin still plastered on her face as a middle-aged woman stepped out of the bushes, her sharp gaze locking onto the stranger like a hawk on prey.
“There you are,” the woman said, her tone as sweet as poisoned honey.
Maude turned, her stick still raised.
The man let out a casual laugh, though the strain in his voice exposed him. “Ah, you found me!” he said, sliding an arm around Maude’s waist and yanking her to his side. She let out an indignant squeak as he pulled her closer. “My lady here summoned me—very urgent business.”
The woman narrowed her eyes, clearly unimpressed. “This is your…lady?”
He dipped his head solemnly. “Yes. Like I told you, I am very much spoken for. Extremely. Happily so.”
Maude sighed. “Oh, yes. Overjoyed.” She jabbed his ribs with her elbow. “Couldn’t be luckier.”
His grip only tightened, and Maude turned her head to glare at him—just as he leaned down, aiming for her cheek. Their lips collided.
Maude’s breath caught as his eyes widened in shock. He jerked back so fast it was a wonder he didn’t snap his neck, then cleared his throat hard, as if that could erase the moment.
The older woman’s shoulders sagged, reluctant acceptance settling over her. But as she turned to leave, she shot the man a sly, lingering smile. “Well,” she drawled, voice low and suggestive. “If you ever tire of…that one, you know where to find me. I’ll even let you call me mommy.”
“Wow.” Maude blinked, her grin somehow stretching wider. “That’s horrifying.”
The man coughed into his fist, gaze fixed anywhere but the woman. “Uh…noted.”
He stayed rooted to the spot, stiff as a board, while she sashayed back into the bushes.
Maude patted his chest. “Congrats, lover boy. You survived.”
His shoulders sagged, arm dropping from her like dead weight. “Saints, what the hell was that?”
“It’s the beard,” Maude said, not even looking at him. “Ladies go wild for it.”
He laughed, running a hand through the offending facial hair. “Apparently, it didn’t work on you.”
Maude rolled her eyes as she turned back to her potion. “It takes a lot more than a beard to hold my attention.”
With a quick spell, she conjured a small cup out of a fallen leaf, dipped it into her potion, and drank more than she probably should have. Warmth spread through her cheeks, and she felt her face finally relax, the cursed grin falling away into her preferred neutral, deadpan expression.
“Oh,” the man said, gesturing toward the cup. “Let me get some of that.”
Maude arched a brow but handed it over. He gulped down the serving without hesitation. Within seconds, his jet-black hair faded to blond, and his beard vanished completely.
Maude stared at him, horrified, as realization dawned. It washim.
The bakery bastard.
She shoved Wesley so hard he almost stumbled into the cauldron. “Why didn’t you tell me it was you?!”
