Piper
I’m living a lie. A beautiful,peacefullie… But, a lie nonetheless.
Bellamy’s Hearth & Home is in full chaotic swing. The curse has settled to a dull buzz, my customers are blissfully unaware, and everything smells like peppermint candles and pastry spells.Frost sparkles harmlessly across the windowpanes. The register sings its little tune. My morning line stretches out the door.
People are already asking questions…
“Why were you closed yesterday?”
“Are you okay?”
“Did the curse flare early?”
“Did a spell backfire?”
“Did the mistletoe attack again?”
“Was it a BOY?”
I choke every time.
“No emergency,” I lie. “Just… family things.”
Rhea texted me twelve laughing emojis and a GIF of a dumpster fire two minutes ago. I’m ringing up a bundle of snow-protection charms when Mrs. Alderberry leans over the counter conspiratorially. “You look flushed this morning, dear.”
“I’m fine,” I answer quietly.
“Did you meet someone?”
“I’m going to die.” I spit out, then smack myself in the head for saying it out loud.
“Oh! So it WAS a man!”
Before I can throttle myself with my own apron—bells over the shop door chime. Not normal chimes. A low, resonant sound like the opening note to a very dangerous symphony. My stomach drops. No.
No no no—hewouldn’t. Fucks sake! Hedid.
Slade steps into my shop like he owns dimension and fucking air itself. And the women of Snowglobe Hollow collectively lose consciousness. I swear half the town swoons on the spot.
He’s wearing dark jeans and a black Henley I did NOT give him, stretched over muscles that should not be legally visible in public. His black hair is tousled like he just stepped off a romance cover model set. His eyes—those impossible, dancing green eyes—sweep the shop and land on me.
Heat flares under my skin. He feels it. I know he feels it. The room fills with feminine sighs.
“Who is THAT?” … “Oh my GOD.” … “He’s gorgeous!” … “Is he… with Piper?” … “They look like a couple.” … “She deserves it. Look at those shoulders.”
Slade eats it up. EATS. IT. UP.
His smirk is obscene. He stalks toward the counter with slow, confident steps, like every human here should be thanking him for breathing.
I hiss under my breath, “I told you to stay home.”
He leans against the counter, entirely too close, voice a low purr only I can hear. “You told me many things, little witch.” His eyes glint. “I listened to none of them.”
I want to strangle him with a garland. Mrs. Alderberry clasps her hands, starstruck. “Oh Piper, dear—is this your…boyfriend?”
I nearly swallow my tongue. “No—NO—he’s not my—this isn’t—”
Slade places a warm, heavy hand on my lower back. I freeze. He says—loud enough for the entire shop tohear—“I’m hers.”
