“Oh, Dre, I’m so sorry.” Sammy cupped Dre’s face with both his hands, pulling him down for a gentle kiss. “He was an idiot to let you go. Any man who can recognize a quote fromSpeedand playHalois a definite catch. Add your ability to take your date to places most people never get to see, not to mention your incredible good looks that hide the sweetest person I’ve ever met, and I’m grateful you haven’t been taken before I met you.”
Dre took a deep kiss from Sammy, too moved to answer him right away. “You say the sweetest things,mo grah thu. How about we eat the pancakes now and talk about why exactly you felt the need to read about sex with a paranormal.” He waggled his eyebrows suggestively. Sammy slapped him on his biceps.
“Now it’s awkward again…and embarrassing. As if you don’t know why I was reading up on it.”
“Well, what’s better than putting a theory to the test? I, for my part, can’t wait.”
Sammy groaned. “Now I don’t know how to keep my hands off you.”
They both laughed and fell down on the couch. Dre reached for the box to retrieve their pancakes.
“I guess the peppermint tea is very well steeped now.”
Sammy giggled. “The great thing about peppermint tea is that it’s still delicious with the right amount of honey added.”
“Isn’t that a universal truth. Okay, open up for your first taste ofPannekoeken.”
“I love it when you go all Archie Leach on me.”
Dre arched his eyebrows. “If I keep saying sweet nonsense in a foreign language, does that mean we can move this to the bedroom?” he asked teasingly while he put the first piece of pancake in Sammy’s mouth. Sammy started coughing.
“Dre!” He chewed twice before swallowing the bite. “Now I will forever associate apple pancakes with sex…or talk about sex. I’m not sure. Definitely not what something so delicious deserves.”
“Isn’t sex delicious as well?”
“You know what I mean. And I told you, I’m not ready yet. Remember…only the first chapter.”
Dre forked another piece of pancake and put it in front of Sammy’s mouth. “Okay, how about we read it together? That way I can intervene immediately if things are inaccurate.”
“I thought this book was so good?”
Dre loved how Sammy kept his wits, even when the topic was difficult for him. “It is. Just in case… I never read the chapter about demons, you know.”
Sammy sighed. “Fine, we read it together. And if I die of embarrassment, it’s your fault.”
Dre couldn’t help himself. He kissed Sammy deeply, tasting the sugar, cinnamon and apples on his lips and underneath the by-now-familiar flavor that was all Sammy. The rest of their lunch break was spent with kissing and feeding each other the pancakes. Around two, people started flocking into the shop and Sammy got busy. Dre made a quick trip to his cottage to get his copy ofCorum, found Barion had left without putting his tea mug away—which would have annoyed Dre more if he hadn’t been in a hurry to get back to Sammy—and made himself comfortable on the leather couch after coming back to the book shop. He didn’t get far, because he spent most of his time watching Sammy interact with his customers, most of whom seemed to be regulars. At half past five, the shop was empty again. Dre had just gotten up to go give Sammy a kiss and ask him if he needed help, when the chimes announced another visitor. Dre didn’t need to turn around to know that trouble had just entered.
Chapter Seven
Sammy couldn’t suppress a groan when he saw Mavis and Maribell enter the shop. They were dressed in their finest grandmother gear—all flowery aprons, knee-length dresses and their knitting baskets with the needles sticking out like a threat. Maribell wore a white bowler hat with a yellow floral print on it, while Mavis had opted for a church bowler in bright orange with a huge white silk rose at the side. It was their equivalent of armor.
As soon as they were through the door, their piercing gazes homed in on Dre, who must have felt the shift in the force, because he sidled toward the counter where Sammy was standing.
“Am I in trouble?” Dre mouthed.
Sammy shrugged. “I don’t know. Either you, me—or both of us.”
He wanted to say more, but Mavis and Maribell were already at the counter, smiling very sweetly at them. “Sammy, my dear, do introduce us to your friend here.”
Mavis sounded like a noble lady who had just found the gardener sitting in her favorite seat with his dirty boots propped against the white tablecloth. Sammy swallowed nervously.
“Uhm, Mavis, Maribell, this is Dre, my…uhm, boyfriend.”
Sammy saw Dre’s face light up at his words and that helped him bear the strict looks he got from the witches.
“Well, Dre”—Maribell put more emphasis on the name than was strictly necessary—“as Sammy’s friends and guardians in the paranormal world, we do have to ask you about your intentions with our boy.” She gestured toward the couches. “Why don’t we sit down and have a little chat?” Somehow, it didn’t sound like a question.
Dre shot Sammy a pleading look. And even though Sammy would have loved nothing more than to go hide behind his coffeemaker, he took Dre’s hand and led him back to the leather couch, knowing Mavis and Maribell preferred the one with the crocheted cover. They were in this together. Abandoning his boyfriend at the first sight of trouble was not how he wanted their relationship to start. When they were all seated, Sammy tried to smile at the witches in hopes of deflecting their wrath a little. “Can I get you something to drink? I think I have some muffins left, too. Are you hungry?”
