Tug of Attraction

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Tug of Attraction Page 16

by Ashlyn Chase


  “Only me? What’s that supposed to mean?” He waltzed up right beside her and pulled her against him, kissing her hard.

  Her nervous chuckle alerted him to something more going on. He whispered in her ear. “You can’t be worried about Rebecca or April finding out we’re a couple.” He hoped that wasn’t the reason she was trying to wriggle away. Why couldn’t their closest friends know?

  “No. It’s just that, well...I promised to keep you anonymous, and I need to honor that promise.”

  “Even if I don’t care who knows it?”

  “Yes. Especially because you don’t seem to care. If we both had that attitude our little secret would be exposed in no time, and we can’t have that.”

  “Why not?”

  She rolled her eyes and let out a breath in a whoosh. “Never mind. We’ve had this talk before, and I’m not in the mood to have it again. Not here and now.”

  “Why? What’s going on?”

  “I’m applying for a job.”

  He took a step back. “You’re what? Why do you need a second job?”

  “Um. It wouldn’t be a second job at this point. It would be my only job. I was let go from the animal shelter.”

  “Christ. What happened?”

  She dropped her gaze to the floor. “It’s because I’m pregnant. Cats can carry toxoplasmosis and my supervisor didn’t want to be responsible if anything happened to the baby.”

  “I think I mentioned that before. You said that pregnant women had pet cats all the time. They just needed someone else to change the litter.”

  “Yeah. Well, as it turned out, there was no one else.”

  “Shit.”

  She smirked. “Exactly.”

  “Seriously...no one is willing to help you out with that?”

  She shook her head. “We have very little paid staff and volunteers can’t be counted on to be there every day.” Her eyes seemed a little glassy and he could imagine she’d been crying over losing the job she loved—and she looked like she could burst into tears again at any moment.

  “I’m so sorry, Bridge.” He pulled her into a warm hug. At first she didn’t respond. He held on until she slipped her arms around his waist and squeezed.

  “Thanks for understanding. It could have been worse. They could have fired me or insisted I quit, but instead they laid me off so I could collect unemployment—not that it’s enough to live on for very long.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me? I can help.”

  “I know, and that’s why I didn’t tell you. I promised I wouldn’t ask you for support and I meant it.”

  At that moment, Rebecca breezed around the corner. “Sorry, guys. I had to stir the caramel continuously. I hope you don’t mind my letting you wait for a bit.”

  “Not at all,” Brigit said. “Where’s April?”

  “Taking a much deserved day off.”

  She brightened. “That’s great. Maybe you can use some more help. As it turns out, I’m in the market for a new job.”

  Rebecca frowned. “Last time you were here you threw up in my bushes.”

  “I—I know. I’m sorry about that. But strong smells aren’t bothering me as much anymore. I was thinking I could do what Dru used to do for you. Walk around at lunchtime giving out samples. You know...to drum up business.”

  Rebecca tipped her head, and her frown turned to a sympathetic smile. “It’s really sweet that you want to help but all that walking might not be good for you when you’re carrying the extra weight of a baby.”

  “I can do other things then...I can be here every day so you and April can take more time off. I imagine you’d like to spend more time with Dru.” She winked.

  Rebecca sighed. “Let me think about it...but just so you know, something tells me this is a bad idea.”

  Brigit bit her lip. Ethan wasn’t about to interfere. There was nothing he could say that wouldn’t piss off one of his friends.

  Brigit folded her hands in supplication. “Just try me?”

  At last Rebecca nodded. “Okay. We can try it for a week. If it’s worth filling out all the paperwork we’ll do it then. Meanwhile, I’ll pay you under the table. If it doesn’t work out, I don’t want you to be upset.”

  Brigit jumped up and down and clapped. She reminded Ethan of Charlotte when she got excited.

  “Yay. Thank you! You won’t be sorry. I promise. When can I start?”

  Rebecca shrugged. “How about now?”

  “You got it, boss.”

  “Don’t call me boss.”

  Ethan chuckled. “You do seem kind of bossy.”

  Both women whirled on him. He stuck his hands in the air as if surrendering and took a step back. “Just thought I’d lighten the moment.”

  “Yeah. Ha ha,” Rebecca said. “I baked those very complicated apple, caramel cupcakes, knowing you’d be in soon, and that’s how you repay me?”

  “Mmm...I might just fall at your feet and beg forgiveness for one of those cupcakes.”

  At last she grinned. She even let the little gap between her two front teeth show. “You’re forgiven. Brigit, why don’t you follow me back into the kitchen and cut up some cinnamon rolls for samples while I frost one of those cupcakes for Ethan?”

  “Mmm...Cinnamon rolls? I might have to buy one of those too,” he said.

  “You got it.” Brigit winked and disappeared around the counter.

  At that moment, another customer walked in, causing the little bells above the door to ring.

  He strolled over to Ethan. “What’s good here? Except the brunette I just saw go into the back?”

  Ethan stiffened. “She’s taken.”

  “Ah. Too bad. Is she yours?”

  Something about the arrogant look in his eyes warned him to be careful with his answer. “She’s not a pet. She doesn’t belong to anyone.”

  “But you just said, ‘She’s taken.’”

  He had him there. “It’s an expression.”

  “So is a simple, She’s mine.”

  “Well, she’s not mine.” Technically, that was true—according to Brigit. That was going to change, but this douche-bag didn’t need to know their story.

  “Interesting.” The guy just eyed him for a while.

  When it became uncomfortable, he crossed his arms. “If you want to buy something from the bakery, shouldn’t you be looking at the display case instead of me?”

  The guy smirked, but wandered over to the case and seemed to be engrossed in whatever was closest to the kitchen. Ethan listened carefully, hoping the guy wasn’t able to overhear the girls’ conversation.

  “Are you absolutely sure you want to do this?” He heard Rebecca saying.

  “Yes. I need a job. I can’t sit at home and do nothing.”

  Yup. The guy can hear every word. He didn’t like the thought of Brigit having a stalker—even if it was just some random guy wanting her phone number. That was so not gonna happen.

  Ethan strolled over to him. “So, what are you looking for?”

  The guy straightened up and smiled. “Uh...I like those big pretzel things. She doesn’t seem to have any.”

  Ethan’s eyes narrowed. “I wasn’t talking about baked goods.”

  “What else would I be looking for in a bakery?”

  “Oh, I don’t know. You seemed pretty interested in my friend. A little too interested.” He strolled around the counter. “I’ve helped out here at the bakery before. Tell me what you want from the case, and I’ll get it for you.”

  “That’s very kind of you, but I think I’ve changed my mind. I’ll look for a pretzel somewhere else.”

  “Sure. I think they have them at the bagel place in the square.”

  “Yeah. That’s where I’ll go, then.”

  Ethan didn’t move or flinch until the guy left.

  Rebecca breezed out to the sales area. “I’m sorry I got tied up. Here’s your cupcake.” She handed him the most delicious thing he’d ever eaten in his life. “I thought I heard you talking to some
one. Did we have another customer?”

  “Uh, yeah. But he wanted a giant pretzel. Don’t worry about it. I’ve manned the register before. I can jump in again when I happen to be here.”

  She squeezed his arm. “Thank you. I’ll never forget how you watched out for me when those loan sharks were coming around, searching for my father—even though Dru talked you into it.”

  Ethan chuckled. “He admitted it to you?”

  Rebecca smiled wistfully. “Yup. My man tells me everything now.”

  “And do you tell him everything too?” Ethan asked.

  She nodded. “I don’t think there’s anything I can’t say to him. He’s very understanding—

  not the dumb cowboy people might think he is.”

  “I never doubted that.”

  Brigit came out of the kitchen with a tray. Pieces of cinnamon roll had toothpicks sticking out of them. “Is this okay? It’s just a mouthful to get the taste buds salivating.”

  “That’s perfect,” Rebecca said. “It’s almost lunchtime. Why don’t you walk down to Market Square?”

  Ethan hoped ‘pretzel guy’ wasn’t still looking for her. “If you can wait a couple of minutes, I’ll go with you,” he said.

  Brigit tipped her head. “And do what?”

  “I don’t know. Rave about how good everything at the bakery is?” He peeled back the cupcake paper and took a bite. Then he closed his eyes and groaned as if he were having an orgasm.

  Rebecca chuckled. “That might look a little suspect, but thanks for offering.”

  Brigit just shook her head and started toward the door. “I’ll be back as soon as the tray is empty—hopefully with some hungry customers in tow.”

  Ethan was about to try to delay her when Rebecca did it for him.

  “Let me show you how to work the register and box up an order. That way if I’m tied up in the kitchen you can wait on people too.”

  Whew.

  “Good idea.” Rebecca set the tray on the counter and moved behind the register. “I think Ethan is going to buy a whole box of something.” She gave him a grin. “You can be my first customer.”

  “Uh. A whole box? For me and a ghost who doesn’t eat?” Oh, what the hell. If it goes stale it’s a bargain to keep Brigit away from leering pretzel lovers. Maybe I can drag out my order. “Sure. I’ll surprise the guys that work in the office. Now, Roger loves the bear claws I bring in sometimes...”

  Chapter 10

  The Stregheria witches were gathered for their last sky-clad ritual of the current year. It was chilly, but not so cold that they couldn’t stay warm around a bonfire. As they arrived and began to strip, a very excited Andrea burst into the area.

  “I’ve found it! At least, proof of its existence in the area where we were looking for it.”

  Velia snapped to attention. “The only thing we’ve been looking for is the grail. Is that what you’re babbling about?”

  “Yes!”

  “And what is this evidence?”

  Andrea hopped from foot to foot. “A talking dog! I swear!”

  The other witches laughed and Andrea’s face fell. “It’s true!” she insisted.

  “How did you find this talking dog?” Camella asked.

  “Well, I wanted all of you to finally take me seriously, so I went back to the dump in New Jersey last weekend. I thought maybe if I found it, you’d all...Well, never mind. I didn’t find the grail, but I found a dog who calls himself Independence. Apparently, he used it for a water bowl and he’s been talking ever since.”

  “Independence? How did he get that stupid name?”

  “He’s been on his own since he was a puppy and he’s very proud of it. If you talk to him, be careful you don’t insult him. He’s just like a self-made man, and you all know what they’re like.”

  The group groaned.

  “Okay. So where’s the pooch’s water bowl?”

  “Independence wouldn’t tell me where it was, but he’s interested in negotiating for it.”

  “Negotiating? What do we offer him? Gourmet kibble?” Velia asked, and the other witches laughed.

  “He wants a home. More than that. He wants to be pampered and treated like royalty.”

  “Ha! King dog. Our husbands will love that.”

  Andrea shrugged. “I think we should consider it. He’s already talking to the Cabot witches.”

  “Crap.” Velia stuck her hands on her boney hips. “Fine. We’ll do our ritual with a special spell to get Independence on our side.” Then she glanced at the other witches around the circle. “Does anyone need a pet to spoil?”

  Andrea looked around and saw that there were no volunteers. “I guess I could take him. My daughter would love to have a pet. I’m not married, and he is kinda cute.”

  Camella grimaced. “Please tell me you don’t mean that the way it sounded.”

  Andrea gasped. “Of course not!”

  The other witches laughed.

  “I just meant that without a man around, having a dog might scare off potential burglars.”

  “Yeah,” Velia said. “A talking dog would scare them right into a mental hospital.”

  * * * *

  By the time Brigit returned to the bakery with an empty sample tray, she was wiped out. As soon as she ambled in, the strong smell of yeast assaulted her. She didn’t hurl, but she didn’t feel like walking around the counter to wait on customers immediately, either. She just wanted to put her feet up and have a glass of...ginger ale. Oh, wonderful. Another craving... and the bakery doesn’t sell soft drinks. Dutifully, she made her way to the other side of the counter and waited on the customers.

  Maybe Rebecca was right. This might not be a good fit.

  She remembered Myranda’s wish to have another clairvoyant, and thought about the ability to sit and relax while telling people what their loved ones had to say—if only she knew what that was!

  When the customers left and she made her way to the kitchen, she collapsed into a folding chair next to a small bistro table.

  “Are you okay?” Rebecca asked as she kneaded and punched some dough. “You look exhausted.”

  “I am. I’m sorry. You might have been right about this job not being the right one for me.”

  Rebecca dumped the dough into a large stoneware bowl and covered it with a towel. “I’m sorry to hear that.” Then she joined her at the table.

  “I really wish I could have helped you,” Brigit said.

  “Don’t worry about it. We’ve been doing fine, and eventually I’ll hire someone else. Maybe when the baby comes and you’ve had a chance to recover...”

  Brigit smiled at her friend. “That’s really nice of you. I hope to have a more permanent job by then, but I’ll certainly keep it in the back of my mind.”

  Rebecca reached over and gave her hand a squeeze. “So, what does Ethan think about all this?”

  Brigit reared back. “Why? Wh—what does he have to do with it?”

  Rebecca chuckled and leaned in. “Oh, I don’t know. He’s only the father.”

  Brigit’s jaw dropped. “Did he tell you?”

  “No. He didn’t have to. I can see auras and, well, other stuff. When you stand next to each other, your energies blend, and the little one inside you is very much a match.”

  Brigit didn’t know what to say. She just stared at her friend and fellow coven member. She must have looked like the proverbial deer in the headlights.

  “I take it you two are keeping this a secret—for now.”

  Brigit recovered. “We’re keeping it a secret permanently. I’d very much appreciate your silence.”

  Rebecca tipped her head. “But why? Aren’t you excited? Happy?”

  “Oh, yes. I’m deliriously happy.”

  “Then I guess Ethan isn’t.”

  “No, it’s not like that. He just did me the favor of knocking me up. I don’t want him to be involved.”

  “Even if he wants to be?”

  “Now you’re scaring me. Can you rea
d minds?”

  She chuckled. “Not yet. But anyone can see the two of you belong together.”

  “Oh, really.” Brigit stuck her fist on her hip. “Do I get a say in this?”

  “Of course you do. You can walk away from a good thing any time you like. It’s called free will. People do it all the time.”

  Brigit didn’t know what to say. She supposed her friend was right.

  “Let me get you a cup of tea. What kind do you like?”

  “Uh—anything decaf. I’m not supposed to have caffeine, so an herbal tea would be best.”

  “Coming right up.” Rebecca disappeared out front and Brigit had a chance to think about what she had said.

  When she returned with her cup of tea, Rebecca continued. “Ethan is wonderful. I was in danger and Dru asked him to look out for me. A lot of men would have made up some kind of excuse to get out of it. Not Ethan. He was right here whenever Dru couldn’t be. I felt so much safer with him around. Did you ever think you and a little one would be safer with a good man to watch out for you?”

  “I don’t want a man hovering over me. I live near my parents and if I need anything, they’ll be right there to help. Even so, I’m nervous about their giving me ‘advice’ on how to raise my child.”

  “Is that what this is about? You want control over the way your child is raised?”

  “Well, yeah. My mother had some problems when it came to our upbringing.”

  “Like what?”

  “My first stepdad believed in ‘spare the rod and spoil the child,’ but my mother insisted on a gentler approach. The first time he whipped my brother, she filed for divorce and didn’t even accept his apology. He was lucky she didn’t file charges.”

  “Okay. I can understand that. But you’d never have to worry about Ethan beating a child. He’s not a bully. What else?”

  “Her next marriage was doomed from the start. My second stepfather was Jewish and wanted my mother to convert and raise us kids in the Jewish faith. We were already in Sunday School and she refused. She figured we’d think we’d been lied to all that time. At the very least, we’d be confused as hell.”

  “Why didn’t they discuss that ahead of time?” Rebecca asked.

 

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