My fox slams against the inside of my skin so hard it almost hurts.
More.
I inhale so deeply I’m lightheaded. Or maybe that’s just her buttery, birthday cake sweetness filling every inch of my lungs. My mouth waters as the scent settles into places inside me I didn’t know were empty. Every restless part of my body goes still, and my fox practically melts.
Lila.
The word vibrates through my chest, and I have to force myself not to purr.
Mate.
The certainty behind it sends a shock of electricity down my legs.
Lila tightens her grip on the stand, the pulse in her neck quickening. A delicate flutter beneath sun-kissed skin that warms her sweet scent and sends another tantalizing cloud of vanilla and buttercream and sunshine to envelop me.
My fox rubs against my skin, trying to get closer. Trying to get free. The urge to move to her, touch her, breathe her in, bury myself in her soft, warm curves and figure out why every instinct I possess is suddenly pointing toward this woman hits me so hard, each muscle in my body locks to keep me in place.
Beautiful.My fox purrs.Most beautiful, best smelling woman in the world.
“Yeah,” I hear myself say, the words leaving my mouth before my brain catches up. “Beautiful.”
CHAPTER THREE
Lila
Candi may as well not even exist as Max stares down at me.
His broad shoulders, strong arm, rippling pecs, and chiseled abs—praise the sweet infant baby Jesus—are all tense beneath his tan skin. His startling green eyes remain fixed on me, the directness of his gaze sending a wave of heat rushing through me so intense I might drown.
I’d be worried he was about to launch himself across the few feet remaining between us if every cell in my body wasn’t suddenly welcoming that possibility.
And I’m almost positive he just called me beautiful.
I’d be able to tell if my brain hadn’t completely stopped functioning. Then again, so has my ability to breathe normally. My pulse is rapid firing, and I’m probably as red as a tomato. I know for a fact my palms are so sweaty I might drop this cake before I’m able to hand it off and escape back to my house. Although, perhaps ending up splattered on the ground won’t make it so obvious that I completely screwed the entire thing up in my frantic dash to enact my brilliant plan before my arch nemesis.
“Suffering sea stars,” I mumble, reality crashing back in.
When it comes to choosing between the two of us, Candi-with-a-fucking-I Honeycutt always wins.
As if summoned by my own insecurity, she glides into the silence and settles a perfectly manicured hand on Max’s bare and bulging bicep.
Again, my eye twitches.
“I’m sure mydisheveledfriend here has caught you a bit off guard with her…” Candi’s gaze drifts over me before settling on my lopsided cake. “…Exuberance.”
“Disheveled? You’re a witch!” I fire back as if that alone is explanation enough for my escaped from a hurricane appearance versus Candi’s glossy hair, flawless makeup, and literal magickal ability to remain picture-perfect in ninety-degree weather.
One dark eyebrow arches. “A little touchy today, aren’t we, Lila?”
My mouth falls open, but the only responses that come to mind are wildly inappropriate for polite society.
“I know Crescent Cove’s official welcome wagon has already been by,” Candi continues, “but I wanted to introduce myself personally as the current Frosting Queen.”
There it is. Again.
I resist the urge to roll my eyes and bite my lower lip to keep the litany of very rude nouns swirling around in my head from tumbling out of my mouth.
I will not let her get a rise out of me. I am calm, cool, collected. I am… Super. Pissed. Off.
