"What Bram just spit it out," I demand.
"Well, you’ll have to see the blacksmith for that," he says quietly, and my heart drops.
"Fuck. But can you maybe......"
"Good luck with that," he says, cutting me off. Picking up his tape measure, pen, and paper, he races to the door and disappears.
"Damn it!" I yell, as I watch him through the window getting into his truck and driving away
Walking to the door, I look up. With a snap of my fingers, a little bell appears above the door. Grabbing the handle, I pull it open. A bright little tinkle sounds throughout the shop. I smile, something has been set right at least. Now to go and speak to the blacksmith. The bottom drops out of my stomach, and nerves cause my heart to race. Well, I’m going to blame the nerves.
Closing and locking the door behind me, I pull my phone out of my pocket. Walking down the main street towards the blacksmith, I dial Regan.
"Ruby! You’ve got some explaining to do!" Regan growls at me.
"Crap, is she there already? I told her to take the rest of the day, and I would give you a call."
"Not what happened." He growls again. Well shit! He’s really annoyed.
"Look, I don’t need her this week, and you do. I don’t know, put her in housekeeping or something. Then you won’t have to deal with her. Or…. I know… get her to mow the grounds—that will keep her busy for ages." I giggle at my suggestion.
He laughs, "That’s actually not a bad idea. Alright, thanks, I’ll find a use for her."
"Actually, that’s not the only reason I rang. " I say quickly before he can hang up.
"What do you want?" he asks suspiciously.
"Well, I need a wrought iron tree made, and I was hoping......"
"No, no, no," he interrupts. “You can deal with that yourself.”
"But Regan," I whine, "He’s your best friend, and maybe you could explain about the spell and everything."
"No! I’m not getting involved. And he knows about the spell anyway." He hangs up without saying goodbye. I look at the phone in shock. Asshole! And after I had just helped him. I shove my phone back into my pocket and look up. The noise registers to my ears, and I realize I’m standing in front of the blacksmiths.
The continuous sound of a hammer on the anvil rings out, echoing through the air. The forge fan roars as it blasts the heat higher. Sweat starts to pebble across my brow. I watch as the blacksmith walks towards a large black horse, that is tied to the hitching rail, lifts its hoof, and presses the shoe down. The hoof sizzles and the smell of burned horse hoof registers to my brain; the scent is pungent and not attractive, unlike the man doing the burning. Maddock stands there, holding up the huge hoof, smoke wafting up. A drop of sweat rolls down his neck and disappears under the neckline of his shirt. After a minute, he pulls the shoe off the hoof and then throws it into a trough of water next to the hitching post. The water hisses, and steam billows upwards. He stands up, and places his hands on his back, arching and stretching it out. A groan echoing from him.
"Damn it! Why doesn’t he have a beer gut?" I whisper to myself, checking to make sure I’m not drooling again.
The man holding the horse looks up and chuckles. Maddock turns to see what he is laughing at. Damn it again! Elves and their hearing. Walking over to the two of them, I reach out and run my hand over the smooth, shiny muzzle of the beautiful animal in front of me. The horse, not Maddock.
"Hey, guys. Jandar, who is this beauty?" I ask the blonde-haired elf standing in front of me.
His aristocratic features stretch wide across his face with a grin. The mirth in his crystal blue eyes sparkles. "Hello, Ruby." He half bows at me in greeting. "It is lovely to see you again, this is Natasha." I giggle quietly, and he blushes good-naturedly.
"What are you laughing at?" Maddock growls at me, "Nothing funny about the name."
I raise my eyebrow at him. "Do you know how he names his horses Maddock?" I ask him caustically. He shakes his head. "What are his other horse's names," I prompt.
“Well, there’s Bruce, Tony, Thor, Cap .......... he trails off and looks at Jandar. "Really?" he asks. Jandar has a sheepish look on his face.
"Yes really, they are all named after Comic heroes. He also has a Logan and Storm. And this must be Natasha Romanoff or better known as Black Widow. She’s lovely, Jandar, great name. One of my favorite characters. You know I’m a huge movie nerd too, so no shaming here." I give the horse a pat and turn to Maddock. “Listen, I need something made for the store, and Bram told me you were the one to speak to about it.”
He frowns at me, picking up a hammer and nails, he places a few between his lips. He reaches into the trough, pulls out the shoe. Lifting the horse’s hoof, he starts to hammer it on. "I’m busy," he grunts through a mouthful of nails. I stand there with my arms crossed, tapping my foot.
"Well, when then?" I ask him crossly. He put the hoof down, removes the nails from his mouth, and looks at me.
"Listen, Ruby, if it was up to me, never!" The shock of this stuns me. I look at Jandar, who looks as amazed as I feel, and then look back at Maddock, tears welling in my eyes.
"But Regan is my best mate, and he asked for my help, so I am going out to the cottage this afternoon to see what he needs done. I can listen to you then." He walks back towards the forge and picks up another shoe out of the fire with a pair of tongs and starts banging away.
"Fine." Trying not to let my upset show, I wave goodbye to Jandar and give Natasha one more pat. "See you later, Jandar, we must catch up soon. I’ll make some peppermints for the ponies when I get the store up and running." He smiles at me sympathetically.
"That would be great thanks, Ruby—they will love it." Turning, I walk back to the shop. Tears streaming down my face. The sadness in my heart is suffocating. He is so mad at something I had no control over. I have no idea how to fix it.
Chapter Seven
Maddock
I don’t watch Ruby walk away; I know I hurt her but can’t bring myself to give a shit. Looking up from the anvil, I see Jandar frowning at me. “What?” I grunt at him before continuing to hammer the shoe into shape.
“What in the world was that?” He asks me incredulously. “You guys used to be such good friends. The four musketeers. We had a pool in high school that you would end up together.”
I cringe at the thought. “Everyone grows up, man. She is not the girl I knew. The Ruby I knew, wouldn't have left her brother hanging when his wife left him. She wouldn't have left her parents in the lurch with the shop either. Every one of those girls has become selfish, and I really don't want anything to do with any of them.” The words coming out of my mouth feel wrong. My heart aches at the callousness of them, but I can’t seem to stop it.
Jandar shakes his head at me. “I don’t know what is wrong with you, man, but I think you're being unreasonable. Think very carefully before you say or do something you can’t undo.”
The silence that surrounds us as I finish shoeing his horse is uncomfortable. Elves are stoic creatures, and once they’ve said their piece, they let it go. I can feel his disappointment, it's almost tangible. We’ve been friends for years, and he always liked Ruby.
Dropping the horse's last hoof, I give her a pat on the rump and put the rasp I was using away. Jandar shakes my hand, politely wishing me a good day, before vaulting onto Natasha's back and riding off towards his ranch. Watching him ride away, I feel nothing. No guilt or regret at what I’ve just said to him, or his reaction.
Grabbing a broom, I sweep up the mess left over. Putting away the other tools I’ve used before heading inside the workshop.
We are located in one of the original stone buildings on the island. Half is a workshop with two forges, one a traditional wood forge with accompanying bellows to push the heat higher and higher. Then there is a more modern gas-run forge. On one wall are hung all the tools involved with the various projects we undertake. There are different types of hammers, punches, tongs, files, and much more. Two b
ig anvils sit mounted on stone blocks in the middle of the workshop.
My father taught me everything I know. He’s cut back on work hours now but still comes in to ‘play.’ I think it's because mom gets sick of him and kicks him out. Though now Alistair is going to retire, I suppose they will spend as much time golfing and fishing together as they can.
On the other side of the building is the showroom. If the smithy is dusty and dirty, then the showroom is in pristine condition. Showcasing various medieval weapons, suits of armor, swords, shields, and daggers. Strategically placed lighting and classy display cases, adding to the overall aesthetic.
Removing my dirty overalls in the workshop and hanging them on a hook, I make my way through the showroom to the office. The showroom is open to the public, but it’s not like we’re busy. Without the tourists, business has dropped off.
Sitting down in the office chair, I turn on the computer. I need to do some ordering for a project I have coming up. I have been commissioned to forge ‘something’ for an elven prince who will be crowned sometime next year. A gift from the coven to the future king. Not sure what I’m going to craft yet. I pull a couple of books down off the shelf to have a flick through for inspiration. It needs to have meaning. To promote good relations between the coven and the Fae realm. Just recently, things have become strained between our coven and many of the realm races.
Maybe I can make a suit of armor and weave in some spells. Or an impenetrable shield. Or a bow whose arrows never miss. Shaking my head in frustration, I scrap those ideas. I’m sure elves already have those types of things. Maybe I need to talk to Jandar. He can give me an idea. Or Galan.
A noise in the showroom catches my ear. Did someone knock something over? Waiting, I listen, but it doesn’t happen again. Shrugging, I go back to my book. A short time later, a sound in the doorway catches my attention. Looking up, I see Sheree draped across the doorframe.
“Hi there handsome, you look like you could do with a break.” She’s holding out a bag from the Buttered Biscuit. “Picked you up some lunch from that place you like so much,” she says, screwing her nose up. Sheree has made it very clear how substandard she feels everything on this island is.
I push my chair back from the desk. “Hey, Sheree. Did Mom give you lunch off?”
Again she screws up her nose. “No, she fired me yesterday.” she spits out.
Surprised doesn’t begin to cover how I feel “Oh, why? That’s not like Mom.”
Sauntering over to me, she puts my lunch bag on the desk. Coming around to my side, she swivels my chair to face her and straddles my lap. “Let's not talk about that now.” Her lips meet mine. She’s kissing me, and I feel nothing but I kiss her back anyway. Her bottom is wriggling against my lap, but my cock doesn’t even twitch in excitement. Her tongue feels like a slobbery wet slug in my mouth; I feel like I am going through the motions but have no real reason why. Like someone else is in control of my body. Her hand reaches down, and she starts to unzip my jeans; finally, I get the will to push her away.
“What do you mean Mom fired you?” I ask as she pouts at me. She gets up and paces around the office.
“Your mom is obsessed with customer service. She said I was rude to the customers.” She says, gesturing with her hands. “That I needed to keep my eyes and hands off of you when you came into the shop. That you were a taken man. I guess we just proved how wrong she is.” She says smugly.
A small smile crosses my face as I think about all the time's Mom and Prue schemed to put Ruby and me together. I definitely never objected, but it never developed into anything but a good friendship either, much to my disappointment. She left before we could become more.
Sheree’s hand brushes against my shoulder, and a cold feeling encompasses my body. My smile drops, and a frown takes its place. “Huh, she was always delusional. Ruby and I would’ve never worked out. She’s just too selfish for me.”
I can hear myself say the words, but again they feel wrong. Shaking my head, I try to clear it, but Sheree has her hand on my zip and has it half down now. Her mouth is back on mine. The rasping noise of the zip opening thunders through the otherwise silent office. She has it all the way open, and before I know it, her mouth leaves mine, and she’s on her knees in front of me. Her hand reaches into my boxers, a satisfied smile across her face, her tongue dragging across her lips in anticipation. But before she can take out my cock and put it in her mouth, a throat clearing behind me draws my attention. Shaking my head in confusion and embarrassment at almost being caught. I push her away, zipping up my jeans. What was I doing, letting her do that at my place of business?
Turning around, I see Regan in the doorway, looking at me with confusion and anger in his eyes. “Sorry I didn’t know you had company,” He says with derision. “I thought we were heading out to Ruby’s this afternoon to fix up her loft, so she has somewhere she can sleep.”
Sheree eyes narrow at this comment. She is now on her feet, standing next to me. She runs her hand over my arm, “But baby, I bought you lunch, and then we were going to have dessert.” She winks suggestively but pouts as I shake my head. Giving her a kiss on her cheek I put my hand on her back and walk her out to the showroom
“Sorry, Sheree. I promised Regan I would help him this afternoon, and I forgot all about it. How about we see each other later? We are going to the Hamster for a beer tonight. How about we meet there?” Her eyes light up, and she nods her head. Waving goodbye, she leaves, and I slump against a display case.
“Well, that looked cozy,” Regan comments sarcastically.
Running my hands through my hair, I blow out a big breath. “Leave it, man. I’m a big boy; I can look after myself.”
“No, I won’t,” he snaps. “What is going on with you? Why are you doing this? I thought Ruby was it for you, man. You used to tell me all the time, you were just waiting for her to come home. You were happily waiting for her. What the hell happened? She’s back, but you don’t seem to care one bit. I know you were disappointed that she was away for so long. But it turns out there are reasons.”
“Too little too late,” I say to him that cold feeling in my chest taking root. “I’m with Sheree now. Come on, let’s get this over with. The less time I spend with your sister, the better.”
Regan looks like I punched him in the gut. Grabbing the keys to my truck, I walk out the front door, Regan following behind, still speechless. In awkward silence, we climb into my truck and head out to the manor guest house.
Chapter Eight
Ruby
That afternoon I find myself standing in the new and shiny sunroom at the cottage. The panes of glass have all been replaced and are sparkling clean and crystal clear. On one side of the door, there is a sitting area set up with a couple of comfy chairs, a coffee table, and a lamp. It’s a cozy space to curl up with a good book during the day. At the other end of the sunroom, I have set up an area for selling the spelled candy I am going to make for the supernatural clients.
Because of the strength of the spelled candy, we don’t want humans buying it, in case they have a terrible reaction. So I will advertise and be open for two hours in the evening from home. Maybe, later on, I can talk to the other businesses and suggest they offer spelled products too.
Apart from a small counter for ringing up transactions, I haven’t made any decision on shop fittings for the other end of the sunroom. I’m not entirely sure of the list of products I’m going to offer yet. I need to experiment a bit. I asked Regan to make my kitchen bench marble and put a gas stove in for me so I can make little batches of candy at home too. A small warming table on rollers completes the setup. My kitchen rocks. I’m so happy with it.
The rest of my house is also finished apart from the loft. My bathroom is a slice of paradise. The old porcelain claw foot bath has been replaced by a large grotto-like shower. There are heads hidden in rock walls on three sides, as well as a rainfall head on top. It's programmable, and there’s an awesome seat on one end to sit
to shave my legs. Ferns are planted in some ledges and crevices, making it looks like a secret oasis. I love it. I don’t need a bathtub because I now have a spa out on the back deck.
Waiting for Regan and Maddock to come by, I think about the types of spells I can add to candy. They are going to fix the ladder up to the loft, and Maddock will assess the beams for stress fractures or rust or something. I’m not entirely sure what, but Regan insists Maddock needs to do it.
For the special candy for humans, I’m going to create a batch with a spell to give them fairy wings. It will last for an hour, and they won’t be able to lift off the ground more than a couple of feet. Don’t want anyone suing me for damage.
The next one will be the ability to run super-fast. Again, it will only last an hour. The last one I have come up with will give humans the ability to change their hair color continuously for twenty-four hours.
I’ve also got some adult-only ideas that will work for both humans and supes. There is the candy that works like Viagra, a two hour hard on. One that makes sexual fluid taste like your favorite flavor. Then there is an illusion spell for couples. The one that makes your partner look like your celebrity crush—just for fun. That will do to start, and we will add more if they are popular or we get requests.
On the stove, I have a small batch of sugar, glucose, and water on the boil. The spelled candy will be like hard candy. I’ll make them different colors, so we know the various spells. The thermometer sits in the pan, waiting for it to get to the right temperature, while I decide on the color and flavor I’m going to use. I also have the laptop open, checking my social media and emails. I have a few from previous customers making inquiries. There are also a couple of emails from Junior accusing me of stealing all his customers and destroying his business, threatening to sue me. I delete them and silently wish him luck; he has no leg to stand on.
Candy Conniptions (Arbor Vitae Coven Book 1) Page 6