“We’re on our way, dears. You surely have things to discuss.” Mavis kissed Sammy on the cheek before she motioned Dre to lower his head so she could do the same to him. “Have a nice evening. And be prepared to be interrogated again during the book club meeting. The others love Sammy just as much as we do.”
After Maribell had kissed them both as well, the witches left the shop. Not in the mood to deal with another customer, Sammy closed the door, even though he still had about thirty minutes until official closing time. From where he was leaning on the door, he stared at Dre.
“Wow.”
“Yeah. Wow. We survived the inquisition.”
“That too. I think I need some sugar.” Sammy went for the counter where the muffins were stacked. He felt Dre’s gaze on his back.
“Do you want me to leave, Sammy?”
“What? No. No! It’s just… You know, I’ve been thinking about us together, about the long-term, how it would play out with you being immortal and me being mortal. I had some very sadLord of the Ringsassociations in my head. Then you come along and tell me there’s a chance I could be yours forever. I know how fast paranormals move when it comes to their fated mates.”
“You mean, things just got real?”
Sammy put the blueberry muffin down that he had taken from the tray. “Very real. Don’t get me wrong… If Iamyour mate, I’d be thrilled, though there are a few doors closing that I wouldn’t want to.”
Sammy looked at Dre and saw the understanding in the demon’s eyes. Immortality meant he would never see his parents again. “And if I’m not your mate, I would have to live with the heartbreak of letting you go one day.”
“I would never leave you,mo grah thu. Never.” The absolute conviction in Dre’s voice reassured Sammy.
“I know. But it wouldn’t be fair to you if you had to stay with an old man, waiting for his death. Damn, I can’t even imagine it without getting all worked up. I’m a mess!”
Dre stepped forward and took Sammy in his arms. “Then don’t imagine it. Our story has just begun, and even though we might not have all the time in the world, we do have some of it. Let’s enjoy our dating phase without worrying about the future. We can go slow, get to know each other better. And when we’re both ready, I can give you my bite.”
Sammy clung to Dre and buried his face in the hard chest. “You’re aware that I’m only going to fall harder for you the longer we know each other?”
“I’m counting on it,mo grah thu. Now stop overthinking this. It’s enough if I do it. Tell me how can I help you with closing the shop?”
Sammy straightened and looked around. “Actually, it’s not too bad today. How about you put the pastries into the fridge in my office while I clean the coffeemaker. After that, I usually do a quick sweep through the place to see if any books need to be re-shelved. My cleaning lady comes tomorrow morning, so there’s no need to vacuum. When we’re done, we can go upstairs and order something from takeout. My treat today—and don’t you argue with me!”
Dre held up his hands in a defensive gesture. “I’d never dream of it. Let’s get started.”
* * * *
As Sammy had predicted, it didn’t take long for them to get the shop straightened out. As soon as they entered Sammy’s kitchen, he handed Dre a stack of menus from delivery places in Beaconville.
“Have you got a hankering for anything?” Dre looked at Sammy. Sammy shook his head.
“No, I’m good with anything. The Chinese is decent, and the pizza place makes a delicious panna cotta.”
Dre shifted through the stack until he found the two menus in question. He wasn’t a great fan of Chinese food, but he did love a greasy pizza. “How about we order two pizzas, extra-large—one meat lover and one with four cheeses—plus two helpings of panna cotta and one salad.”
Sammy grinned. “Low on the greens, I like that. We can take it all to the couch and watch a movie.”
“How aboutA Fish Called Wanda?” Dre tried his hardest to look suggestively.
“Great idea. Though I do have to warn you… I’m not sure if you can match up to John Cleese.”
“Uh, I bet I do. Wanna know why? Because I,mo grah thu, happen to speak fluent demon, which is a lot more erotic than Italian.”
“Is it?” Sammy raised a brow. “I haven’t heard you speak demon, but I always imagined it would sound a bit like Klingon.”
Dre pressed one hand to his chest and the back of the other against his forehead, feigning consternation. “Klingon! I’m wounded. Deeply wounded. The demon tongue is pure poetry.” He sighed. “I better start teaching you, so you can appreciate it in its full glory.”
Sammy laughed out loud. “You do that.” He wrinkled his nose. “After I have a shower. I reek.”
“Only of the best things—coffee, muffins and books.”
