It’d been just over a week since we moved in with Hazel, and mortal-style unpacking while caring for a newborn was near impossible. Thank Goddess she said she’d use the enchantment she’d found on the dark web to make it a snap once she was back. In the meantime, boxes glared at me from every corner as if to say,yes, witch, you’re a mess. I’d managed to unload most of Aspen’s things by hand, but I needed to find the rest of my clothes—the real adult ones that weren’t stained—along with a slew of other items.
I popped Aspen off my nipple before wrangling my partially deflated boob back into my nursing bra, snapping the clasp shut. What I wouldn’t give for an underwire to hike these puppies back up to their former pre-pregnancy glory.
“One minute!” I shouted to whoever was at the door, pulling down my shirt. One of the many ways having Hazel around was helpful: her Precognition made it pleasantly unsurprising when people showed up on our doorstep.
I scrambled to my feet, throwing the muslin blanket peppered in inky evergreens on my shoulder. Shifting Aspen on top of it, I patted his back a few times, hoping he’d burp now versus spit up all over me later. At least having him situated like this would hide my lopsided chest.
Heading to answer the door, my nerves were in hyperdrive, surprised to have someone coming by so late. Maybe they were here to see Hazel? It would be awkward if I had to tell them she was still on her date from over a day ago, but that was Hazel. When she worked, she worked hard, and when she let loose toplay, the same was true.
Tugging at my shirt one last time, I gripped the knob, twisting it to open the door a few inches. The evening breeze smacked me in the face, along with the sight of the handsome witch standing on my porch, his sandy-blond mop of hair shimmering in the buttery moonlight.
Great Goddess, he probablywashere for Hazel.
Lucky witch.
I pulled the door the rest of the way open, trying not to gawk at the muscles that peeked from under his fitted gray T-shirt and ripped jeans. From the few crinkles edging his eyes—a brilliant shade of sienna—I’d guess he was also in his mid-to-late thirties. Salt and pepper mixed into the blond stubble along his sharp jaw, framing a big grin so perfectly pearly it nearly blinded me.
My gift’s dusty remnants perked up in response.
“Hi.” His voice was calm, sultry, but with a pinch of gruffness that had my body prickling with heat. Lifting his oven-mitted hands, he held a covered dish with steam trapped under its glass lid.
I wasn’t sure which was the hotter dish.
My throat dried, warmth spreading through my chest and neck until I was sure my cheeks were painted pink. I tried not to think about the fact that I was covered in various stains and hadn’t bothered to shower.
May the Moon Goddess bless whoever conjured up dry shampoo.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to bother you.” He lifted his shoulders, giving me a warm smile, eyes twinkling. “I got tied up at work but wanted to bring this by and welcome you to the neighborhood.”
Where had my words gone?
This was the first neighbor I’d met since moving in. Hazel already knew many of the neighborhood witches who she’d sold houses to. She’d probably introduced herself to everyone here before I’d even arrived. It had been a while since I’d interacted face-to-face with another adult who wasn’t her.
“I’m Lynx, over at 16,” he continued, cutting through my tongue-tied awkwardness. I couldn’t remember the last time a supernatural had me speechless. He pointed at the house diagonal from mine next to the coffee truck I’d been dying to check out. This late at night, its only discernible features were its rustic-looking turquoise door and fairy lights that hovered over its wraparound porch, illuminating a floating onyx loveseat.
“This is for you,” he continued, lifting up the covered dish. A delicious combination of sausage, biscuits, and rosemary filled the room. “It’s a breakfast casserole. I figured breakfast is good at any time of the day and you could easily reheat the leftovers in the morning.”
That boyish grin returned, and he tossed back his head, trying to get the mussed hair out of his eyes. The urge to brush the wild strands made my palms twitch. Were they as silky as they looked?
“That’s really thoughtful,” I said, going to reach for the casserole before remembering I was one-handed and the dish was too hot for me to handle comfortably with Aspen in my arms. “I’m Oakley.”
“Why don’t I drop this on the counter for you?” he offered, taking a step forward before pausing respectfully, waiting for me to invite him inside. I nodded, patting Aspen’s back.
“And who is this little pumpkin?” Lynx asked, shoulder brushing into me as he made his way over to the kitchen. The rich scent of cedarwood and chai spices curled around him, sending a prickle of my gift wriggling up my spine to the nape of my neck.
“This is Aspen. He’s just shy of five months.” I kissed the faint tuft of dark hair on his otherwise bald head. “I’m sorry if you hear him screeching from your house. He tends to get pretty vocal when he isn’t pleased with the service around here.”
Lynx chuckled and placed the dish down. When he turned around, his attention snagged on the stacks of moving boxes and confusion etched his brow. “Doesn’t look like he’s been too helpful with the unpacking.”
“Yeah, he’s not earning his keep just yet.”
Aspen giggled along with me before spitting up onto my non–burp cloth-covered shoulder.
Fuck me.
Lynx snapped up another burp cloth that was draped over a half-unpacked box and brought it over, dabbing up the mess on my shoulder and wiping some out of my hair.
This is exactly the first impression I’m going for.
