Holiday Mates: Short Stories (Supernatural Enforcers Agency 5)

by E A Price

  Bang bang bang bang.

  Oh Hera, here it comes!

  Before she could stop her, Calisto ran to the door, flinging it open – effectively ignoring that hour-long lecture Ariadne gave her about using the spy hole and asking who it was first.

  Calisto stopped on seeing their guest, her huge eyes blinking for a moment before she hooted with laughter and actually doubled over, clutching at her stomach.

  “Beautiful flowers for a beautiful lady,” declared the man in an extremely unrealistic gorilla costume. Seriously, Ariadne would have made a better gorilla during the summer she decided to stop shaving – it was in protest against something she could no longer recall.

  The gorilla stepped back as an army of delivery guys burst into her house carrying bundles of yellow carnations.

  “What is all this?” cried Ariadne, attempting to get her own mirth under control.

  When the flowers seemed to adorn every inch of her small house, the delivery guys filed out, and the gorilla cleared his throat and started dancing a jig and reciting a poem.

  “My dearest witch, you are so fine. You can run. You can hide. But my beautiful one, you will be mine.”

  Calisto sobered a little and gave the gorilla a squinty look.

  He held up his hands. “Hey, I just read the cards, I don’t write them.”

  Calisto grabbed the card as Ariadne made a pathetic lunge for it.

  “Who’s Rick?” she asked.

  “No one,” hissed Ariadne, pushing the gorilla out the door, ignoring his hints about wanting a tip.

  “Have you got a boyfriend?” teased her ungrateful daughter.

  “No!”

  Ariadne managed to snatch the card and reread the words. It wasn’t the greatest poetry she had ever read, but dang it if it wasn’t the sweetest gesture any male had ever made for her.

  You will be mine. The words sent a shiver down her spine. So possessive, reminding her of when he had wrapped his arms around her, refusing to let go, inhaling her scent, covering her in his own deep, masculine, spicy scent.

  She glanced around at the flowers. Yes, yellow was her favorite color, and she was perhaps the oddest woman on earth in that carnations were her favorite flower.

  They had such a bad rep she just felt sorry for them. But how could he have possibly known that?

  The spell came the inner taunt.

  She’d asked for the perfect guy, and the spell was influencing him to be that guy. That deflated her a little bit. He only sent the flowers because she spelled him into doing it.

  Crud.

  Still, wasn’t it nice to feel a little loved, even if it wasn’t entirely real? And that hug earlier, why that was enough to give her happy dreams for a six months.

  It wasn’t all bad, was it?

  *

  Rick smiled benignly at the scowling woman in front of him. His lion prowled impatiently, but the man soothed the beast.

  Patience, not long now.

  His lion wasn’t so sure and perhaps considered that he should hunt Ariadne down before she got it into her head to try and run. Not that he wouldn’t enjoy a little chase. His lion virtually purred at the prospect.

  He hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her. He had an urge to be with her, to touch her every second of every day.

  His suit strained slightly as his chest inflated in excitement. He didn’t spend lots on clothes, but his suits were handmade. He couldn’t find anything to fit him off the rack. They never allowed for his huge chest, and there certainly wasn’t enough room in the crotch area. Not that he was proud of that… okay, he was a little proud of that.

  He smoothed down his tie and practiced his smile on the dragon lady. Not a real dragon but she might as well have been given the fiery looks she was directing at him, perhaps she might have been pretty if she wasn’t filled with so much fury.

  But not as pretty as the female he’d set his sights on. Long pale brown hair, soft green eyes, pink cheeks and a sinfully curvy body – he let out a rumbling growl before he could stop himself.

  Dragon lady wasn’t impressed. Nor was his lion.

  There had been far too little action for the beast’s liking. He was still a little fuzzy on the details, but one minute he was enjoying poker night and the next he was with the most perfect and awesome woman in the world. Then for some reason his so called friends pulled him away and started doing inane tests on him, claiming he was enchanted.

  They were nuts.

  They hadn’t wanted to leave him alone. Thankfully even Wayne drew the line at watching him pee, and Rick had managed to swipe the gator’s phone and placed a call to his local florist to fill her house with flowers. The florist tried her best to talk him out of his choice, but he wouldn’t listen. He didn’t know why, but yellow chrysanthemums just seemed right. He was sure she would like them.

  Thankfully, he’d been set free that morning, and he’d told them he was taking the week off. They agreed he needed it to shake off the effects of the spell.

  Humph – they had no idea what they were talking about.

  He was deemed not dangerous at least. And he wasn’t – unless the danger was to his lovely baker’s heart.

  Rick scented her – like sweet cinnamon rolls dripping in cream cheese frosting - before he heard her sigh – of wonderment at his presence no doubt.

  “What on earth are you doing here?” she asked as she appeared next the dragon.

  “I’m here to see you, of course.” And hopefully, get another cupcake.

  He flashed her his panty-dropping smile – perfect white teeth with just a hint of the predatory beast within. Her look of dismay faltered as she gulped and her heart beat fluttered.

  “You shouldn’t be here,” she said with reluctance.

  The dragon snorted in agreement.

  Rick placed a hand on his chest. “I followed my heart.”

  Another snort from the dragon, but his little witchy baker let out a whimper. He was corny through and through, yet he had the charm and looks to pull it off. It often worked to his advantage. Having a shifter act like a gentleman was a nice surprise for most of the women he had dated.

  “You’ve said hello, you can go now,” snapped the dragon lady.

  “Marlene,” admonished Ariadne, “there’s no need to be rude.” She bit her lip. “But really, you should go. You wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for the spell.”

  He harrumphed as his lion bristled. He reached out and snagged one of her small, slim hands. “I am not bespelled. Have dinner with me?” he purred, raising the lovely appendage to his lips.

  His lips twitched in a smirk as her cheeks bloomed pink and her desire surged. Not even the dragon’s mutterings could ruin the moment.

  If he weren’t such a gentlemen, he was sure he could seduce Ariadne on the spot. He could smell the honey of her arousal, and he had an urge to drop to the ground, rip off her skirt and just lick… But he was a gentleman, and his little witch was, for the moment, reluctant. The licking could wait.

  “It’s nine in the morning,” she mumbled, stumbling over her words.

  She could barely think straight around him. He enjoyed that – showed she was just as affected by him as he was by her.

  “Tonight, or perhaps I can’t wait. Have lunch with me.”

  Ariadne smiled before frowning. “I can’t leave the bakery.”

  “Yes, some of us have to work for a living,” sneered the dragon. Or Marlene as she perhaps preferred to be known.

  “As do I. I’m a doctor. Although I have taken the day off to deal with more important matters.” He raised an eyebrow at her that said – you.

  “Oh, you’re perfect,” whispered Ariadne to herself.

  He pretended he hadn’t heard, but his lion preened. “Can’t you get away for half an hour?”

  “I wish,” she breathed and then ducked her eyes. “But my other employee, Jay, just quit.”

  Marlene shrugged. “Oh dear,” she said, unconvincingly.

 
; “We’ll be shorthanded all day as it is.”

  Rick looked around at the small bakery. It was bright and cheery and perfectly reflected his little witch. He traced his thumb over the back of her hand. “What if I bought all your stock?”

  She rolled her eyes. “Sure.”

  “I’m serious.”

  “I think it would be a waste of money and cakes, and my regulars would lynch me.”

  “Hmmm. What if I helped you in the shop?”

  “You can’t,” blurted Marlene, looking slightly panicked.

  “I’m no baker, but I’m sure I can serve customers and wash dishes.”

  “You don’t want to spend your day doing that,” said Ariadne doubtfully.

  “There’s nowhere in the world I’d rather be.”

  She hesitated, and he knew he had her. His lion licked his fangs in triumph.

  “You can’t be serious!” howled Marlene.

  “Well, it’s your funeral,” said Ariadne, her eyes sparkling. “Just remember, though, step out of line and I will get the newspaper.”

  He grinned.

  *

  Ariadne tried not to spend too much time peeking at her handsome helper lion – particularly after she burned two batches of cupcakes beyond salvation, but really, she was only human, and he was mouth-wateringly gorgeous.

  Yes, many her customers seemed to agree. Or at least the female ones. Women who would normally come in and pick up a cookie and then leave, stayed, lingering over a cup of coffee while trying to catch the lion’s eyes.

  Grrr.

  If she were a more competent witch, she’d turn them into ferrets. She had to settle for making their coffees turn prematurely cold. Yes, apart from her accidental spell to attract the lion, cooling liquid was about the best she could do on her own. It barely deserved a maniacal laugh, although she tried one anyway, only to be told by Rick that she had a beautiful laugh. She then snorted, and he tweaked her nose.

  Oh, his attention could become addictive. Darn it, if only he were here because he wanted to be and not because of some dumb spell. Though, he was a much better worker than Jay. And he did fill out that pink apron exceedingly well; the frilliness didn’t detract one iota from his masculine perfection.

  Sigh.

  Marlene grumbled - constantly, but Ariadne ignored her. Marlene, another witch from her coven, wasn’t a people person and had barely tolerated Jay.

  Oh, Jay… That reminded her, she needed to find a replacement for Calisto. Her daughter may claim she didn’t care about the dance, but she did. Too many broken promises from her own father had taken their toll on her – no eleven-year-old should be so jaded about men, that was supposed to come later after being on the dating scene for a few years.

  No, Calisto was going to that dance, and she was going to be made to see that there are some good men in the world. Even if Ariadne was still having trouble coming to terms with that concept.

  While waiting for some honey buns to bake, Ariadne took out her phone and scrolled through her contact list. Whole lot of nothing coming up.

  With an exaggerated sigh, she settled on Roger, the investment banker who loved her cooking. A bit of a bore but has two kids and is good with them. Nice enough guy, until he left her to go back to remarry his ex – didn’t even say goodbye when he dumped her. She had to find out through his marriage announcement in a local paper. Humph.

  She peered out of the kitchen to see Dr. Gorgeous delivering a three-tiered plate of cakes to the over seventies ladies book club – they used the bakery as a meeting place and were very generous when it came to tips. They invited Ariadne to join the club, but she begged off. It wasn’t the age thing, no, more like the choice of erotic, S&M literature that they only read to give them ideas. The ladies all lived in a home and were extremely oversexed. Who said older ladies had to behave?

  The ladies patted Rick on his taut rear, and he grinned as he caught Ariadne’s scowl. He blew her a kiss and the ladies giggled.

  “Hello,” came the gruff voice down the phone.

  “Oh, hi, Roger.”

  “Who is this? How did you get my number?”

  “It’s Ariadne.”

  “Who?”

  “Umm, Ariadne Black.”

  Silence.

  “We dated.” For eight damn months.

  “I’m sorry, I don’t recall the name, and I’m very busy. If you want an appointment, I suggest you call my secretary.”

  He hung up, and Ariadne stared at the phone. Seriously? Was she so forgettable that he didn’t even recall her name? For eight months they went on numerous dates, vacationed in the Poconos and had lots of bouts of sweaty – somewhat reasonable sex. He even met her mother. Surely he can’t have forgotten her – nobody forgets Aphrodite Black.

  “Who was that?” demanded Rick.

  She started as she found herself eye to muscular chest with a very cheesed off lion shifter.

  “I heard a male voice.”

  “Just an ex.”

  Rick narrowed his eyes, flashing with the wildness of his inner animal. He leaned down, his breath fanning over her heated cheeks and his massive frame towering over her five foot nothing curves.

  “I don’t like you talking to other males.”

  She smiled before she managed to stop herself. No, she should not be enjoying his darkly possessive tone. Although maybe she’d just enjoy it for just a few more minutes.

  “Careful kitten or I’ll get the newspaper,” she whispered against his muscles.

  He chuckled, his huge shoulders heaving. “You would as well, wouldn’t you?”

  “I’m a witch; I have a lot of experience in taming cats.”

  “Must be why fate sent me to you.”

  Except fate didn’t. It was her wonky magic. Ariadne sighed and gently pushed him away.

  “We better get back to work.”

  He stared at her for a few seconds before nodding and sauntering back towards the shop. A couple of the ladies had accidentally on purpose dropped a cake on the floor. They and Ariadne took great pleasure in watching Rick bend over to clean the floor.

  Okay so wonky magic did have its perks. She now had enough material to cover eight months of erotic fantasies. More time with him and she’d be going for a year.

  *

  Rick frowned as he made his way to his car. His lion growled in displeasure. He’d enjoyed his day in the bakery more than he could say, more than he would admit to Ariadne. But hadn’t he done it on the basis that Ariadne would have dinner with him?

  Yet, at the end of the day, all attempts to persuade her had fallen on interested ears. Yes, she had turned him down, and no matter how much he cajoled, purred and flattered, she was resolute. Sure, she couched her dismissal in protests that she was too tired, it had been a long day, she wouldn’t be able to find a babysitter – yadda yadda yadda, but he could see the reticence was from her.

  No matter. His lion perked up as his mood lifted. He could be persistent. He did not manage to evade all his crazy lioness mother’s matchmaking attempts without gaining a streak of determination.

  Rick slid into his car and sped away, enjoying the luxury of his new Lexus.

  Ariadne would be his, of that he was sure. And she was just what he wanted - sweet, funny, utterly adorable and domestic. It may be old-fashioned and somewhat chauvinistic, but yes, he wanted a mate who could cook and keep a nice home. Before he arrived in Los Lobos, he spent his time dating cat shifters who either just wanted a good time or saw him as some kind of golden ticket to trophy wifedom. Their idea of domesticity was ordering a maid to cook something, and instead of washing clothes they just bought new ones – in other words, they were slightly less scary versions of his mother.

  But on arriving in Los Lobos, he decided to turn over a new leaf and find the woman he really wanted. He’d started by flirting with his nurse – Lucie - but that was a non-starter. She was already hung up on the idiot wolf who didn’t deserve her. But now he was glad about that.

&
nbsp; Lucie for all her plusses wasn’t nearly as appealing as Ariadne. Whether the sly little witch was teasing him on his frilly apron or bantering with customers, she was luminous - he couldn’t take her eyes off her.

  Ariadne was an amazing cook and had a beautiful house – she was just perfect, and definitely not immune to his charm. She was just playing hard to get. His lion virtually laughed – a waste of time because ultimately she would be his, but he did admire her spirit.

  Course he also needed to charm her daughter – particularly if they were going to the dance together. He wasn’t worried - kids loved him. At least his nieces and nephews did. But then those cubs loved anyone who bought them candy bars. His sister wasn’t so thrilled about their resulting sugar highs.

  Rick eased the brake pedal and grunted as nothing happened. He slammed his foot down and still nothing.

  The car careened down the road as his beast roared.

  *

  Bang bang bang bang.

  “Why do we even have a doorbell?” grumbled Ariadne.

  Calisto ran to the door, again not bothering with the spy hole. Ariadne sensed another lecture brewing inside her.

  “Mom, Rick the guy who definitely isn’t your boyfriend is here,” giggled the usually sullen Calisto.

  “What?”

  Ariadne ran to the door and found a disheveled Rick giving her such a pathetic pout she almost giggled herself. He looked quite rumpled, and if she didn’t know better, she’d think a bruise was swelling on his head.

  “Rick, are you okay?”

  “I was in a car accident.”

  Oh! Her insides clenched as a flash of a drab world not containing Rick came to mind. “Come in, sit down, take your shirt off – your jacket! Jacket!”

  Rick allowed her to lead him into her house, barely even grinning at her damn slip of the tongue. Calisto watched them with interest. Too much interest.

  “Callie baby, go fetch my friend a glass of water.” Emphasis on friend.

  “Sure,” she said reluctantly, flitting away, rushing to ensure she didn’t miss anything.

  Ariadne settled him on her couch and fussed over the deepening bruise on his face. “What happened?”