Bewitching You: A Maple Grove Halloween Novella

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Bewitching You: A Maple Grove Halloween Novella Page 5

by Katana Collins


  I stood and found Kandi on her balcony with a mug in hand. I smiled and held up the bag of food. “I brought sustenance,” I said. “I figured you would need a decent breakfast before the event started.”

  A gloriously beautiful smile broke out on her face, and her cheeks flushed the most adorable shade of pink. She tugged a set of keys from her back pocket and tossed them down to me. “Come on up. Just your luck that the entry fee into my apartment is breakfast.”

  I unlocked her front door, and when I entered the chorus to Monster Mash played instead of a bell. I smiled, glancing up at the corner of the door and saw a small speaker connected to a sensor. Great minds.

  I took those stairs up to her apartment two at a time and managed not to spill a drop of coffee. She opened the door when I reached the top, her brown eyes the same shade as the tumbler of whiskey I’d had as a nightcap before bed.

  “Hey there.” She grinned and took the bag from me, stepping aside so I could enter.

  “How are the kittens doing?” I asked, peeking around for them.

  “I checked on them this morning.” She pointed down the hall to a closed door. “They’re still in the guest bathroom, but the momma cat seemed pretty happy to see me this morning when I brought in her breakfast.” She smiled and shrugged. “I never thought of myself as a cat person, but I could get used to these little guys running around.”

  My brows shot up as I glanced around her apartment. It was a nice place, sure. But not very large. Definitely not big enough for six cats to live in. Even still, I held my tongue, not wanting to burst her bubble. Not yet, at least.

  She set the bagels down on the kitchen table and pulled the muffin out, her eyes lighting up. “Oh, yum. This is from Latte Da, right?”

  I nodded. “Yep. Lex makes some of the best bagels I’ve ever tasted.” I didn’t quite come to sit down next to her yet, opting instead to wander around her living room.

  Her apartment was pretty much a cookie cutter image of what I expected. Mostly decorated in white and taupe with the occasional splash of pink accents on pillows and vases. I circled the room slowly, pausing at her bookshelf to look at some of the framed photos. One of her, her sister, and her parents. Another of her and some girlfriends… looked like sorority sisters of some kind because there were Greek letters behind them. They had their backs turned to the camera and they were smiling over their shoulders.

  My eyes widened and I couldn’t help the chuckle that rumbled in my throat. I grabbed the frame and held it up to her, lifting my brow. “You are officially not allowed to be upset when I call you Princess anymore.” I pointed at the image, specifically to her butt in the image. Because on the back of the shorts she was wearing, in glittery pink letters, it said PRINCESS.

  She scrunched her nose, mockingly indignant, and brushed my hand from the photo. “Get your finger off my ass,” she said, snatching the frame from my hands and placing it back on the bookshelf.

  A rumbling growl rolled in the back of my throat and I leaned in, inhaling the scent of her still damp hair. Mint. And something else… something herbal, like rosemary. “When I have my finger on your ass, the only thing you’ll be saying is more.”

  She shivered and I grinned at the goosebumps that erupted on her flesh.

  Turning her head, she licked her lips, parting them just inches from mine. A breath away. One lean in and I could taste that mouth of hers again.

  I traced the bow line of her top lip with my finger. “Are you offering?”

  Her smile spread and she shook her head. “Not yet.” Then, her eyes dropped to the two cups of coffee still in my hand. “Is one of those for me?”

  I handed her the latte and as she took a sip, her eyes lit up. “Pumpkin Spice? How did you know?”

  I grinned, loving that that smile of hers was reserved for me. Because of something I did right. “I just thought to myself… what would a princess drink?”

  Kandi

  An hour later, we had eaten our breakfast, and I slipped into my bedroom to get dressed for the event. I emerged and presented myself with a twirl for Ford, who was sitting on my couch watching the morning news with one of the kittens curled up on his chest.

  A slow, sultry smile spread across his face as I showed off my costume. “What are you supposed to be? A 1950s housewife?”

  A 1950s housewife? Was he serious? Scowling, I glanced down at my outfit, the black A-line dress with the apron tied at my waist. “Oh!” Of course. I’d forgotten the most important part of the costume. No wonder he didn’t get it. I ran back into the bedroom and grabbed my black witch hat, putting it on my head and came running back out. “Tada!”

  He looked just as perplexed as before. “A 1950s … witch?” he asked.

  I rolled my eyes and stepped closer to him. “Okay… how about if I do this?” I unleashed my magic weapon—my one weird talent that no one knew I could do. I wiggled my nose in the exact way Samantha from Bewitched did. After, I raised my brows. “Well?”

  His lip curled. “Are you a… stinky witch?”

  “I’m Samantha! From Bewitched!”

  “Ohhh… okay.”

  “Have you seriously never heard of that show? Elizabeth Montgomery? A witch tries to settle down and be a wife and mother in 1960s America?”

  His eyes narrowed. “Oh yeah… I sort of remember that. It was around the same time as the hot genie show, right?”

  “Yes! I Dream of Jeannie!” I exclaimed.

  His eyes skimmed my body. “I think I’d rather see you in the harem costume,” he winked.

  I dropped my jaw. “Are you saying you don’t like my Samantha costume?”

  He stood slowly, bringing the sleeping kitten with him, tucked into the crook of his elbow. “I love the Samantha costume,” he said, stepping toward me. His hand fell to my waist, skimming over my hip. “You look very cute. Maybe next year we can go as Jeannie and Major Healey.”

  Next year? My heart did a flutter thing in my chest. “Wait a minute.” I narrowed my gaze at him and pushed my index finger into his chest. “If you know the characters from I Dream of Jeannie, then you must know Bewitched. They were on one after the other for years!”

  His grin widened. “I’ve heard of it, but like I said, we were an I Dream of Jeannie family. Never saw an episode of Bewitched. I’m pretty sure my dad just liked looking at her genie costume.”

  “Your dad sounds like a dirty old man.”

  He barked a laugh. “That he was.”

  I tilted my head. “Was?”

  Ford nodded, his smile slipping only a fraction of an inch. “He passed away a few years ago. Heart attack.”

  I winced. “I’m sorry.” I couldn’t imagine losing either of my parents so young.

  “Thanks,” Ford said. “He ate bacon and steak most of his life and smoked like a chimney.” With his thumbs tucked into his pockets, he shrugged. “It just caught up to him sooner than it did other people.”

  I grew quiet, not sure of what else was left to say. I had never lost anyone… not like that. I lifted my hand and scratched my finger against the sleeping kitten’s head.

  “Don’t do that.” His voice was a rough whisper and he curved his finger below my chin, dragging my gaze back up to his. “Don’t get quiet on me now, Princess. Time for my rule number two. Don’t shy away from the hard stuff,” he said. “Not with me.”

  I nodded. “What if I don’t know what to say?”

  He gave me a sad smile. “That’s all right. Hell, half the time I don’t know what to say, either.”

  I held his gaze, licking my lips, and slid my arms around him, pulling him into a hug. His muscles beneath me went rigid, but only for a moment, before he relaxed into my embrace with a sigh. I felt his lips land at the crest of my head, and his thumbs slipped to the back of my neck, kneading the muscles there.

  I pulled back from the hug and looked up at him. “So… Major Healey and Jeannie next year, huh? That means you’re planning on slumming it with a princess for a whole y
ear?”

  His smile lit up his face, and his normally gruff exterior entirely shifted into something boyish and playful. “With you, I’m hardly slumming it. And while I’m not going to stand here and pretend I know what the next year has in store for us, I will say this: I like you. I’ve always found you irresistibly attractive, even when I was under the incorrect assumption that you were a spoiled brat. And I want to try to make something work between us.” He shrugged. “That’s all I’ve got. I hope it’s good enough for you.”

  A lump caught in my throat. It was simple… but Ford was a simple man. And more importantly, it was honest and from the heart, which was more than Ben had ever given me. I nodded. “It is good enough for me,” I whispered. “But… for a guy who said he wanted to take things slowly, you sure are jumping into this.”

  “Oh, trust me… this is slow. If I had my way, you’d be stripped of that dress and I’d be deep inside you already.”

  I gasped, heat rushing to my cheeks, and my sex clenched with desire. God, how could he make me react that way with a few simple words?

  Ford exhaled a heavy breath. “But I suspect that you’re the one who needs more time to process all this. I’m good. I know what I want… I just want you to know without question, as well.”

  All this time I had thought of him as Ben’s dickhead best friend. The guy who never liked me; the guy who cajoled Ben into breaking up with me and would constantly try to take my boyfriend out without me. In truth… that was all Ben. Ford was simply his scapegoat. And maybe those little looks I caught him giving me from across the room in the rare moments we were all out together meant something more… something headier that neither of us was willing to admit while Ben was a factor.

  I took a deep breath. “I wasted a lot of time with Ben,” I said. “Over two years before he finally showed me how awful he was. And maybe even more importantly how different our values were. We wanted such different things in life, you know?”

  Ford brushed a fallen strand of hair back from my face and nodded. “That’s my biggest concern with us, as well. Not the values thing. I think we’re both inherently good people, even if you are a princess.” He winked to soften the dig, and I smiled. Growing up, sarcasm was my family’s love language. You weren’t considered one of us until we made fun of you. “But… you live in a loft in the center of town, and I live on a farm. You like fancy dresses, and I live in work boots and jeans.”

  I smiled and shrugged. “Just surface level stuff.”

  He winced and shook his head. “Not necessarily. They’re lifestyle differences. If this is something lasting, one of us will have to change our living situation drastically.”

  I tilted my head. “Ford,” I said. “Come on. You’re a farmer… you can’t not live on your farm with the crops and animals. So, what you’re saying is I will have to change my living situation drastically, right?”

  He shrugged and wiped his palm across his brow. “I’m probably getting ahead of myself here. Way ahead of myself.”

  I bit my lip to stifle my widening grin. What Ford didn’t know about me? I spent most of my childhood on a ranch. My parents were hippies, for goodness’ sake! We grew our own food, rode horses, and had a strict no TV policy at night unless it was… you guessed it… the Nick at Nite reruns of Bewitched. I moved here after college because this was where we summered and I just loved it so much. And owning a candy shop? It just made sense to live above the store. Made for a hell of an easy commute. But for the right circumstance? The idea of a family, and a partner I loved? I’d move in a heartbeat.

  “I’ll tell you what,” I offered. “After the event today, let’s go out to your farm. You can show me around, we can have a quiet night in. I’ll even cook for you.” I wiggled my brows.

  “You cook?”

  I should have been offended by the fear and shock in his voice, but then again… people made all kinds of assumptions about me around here based solely on the fact that I had a trust fund. Like somehow because of that, I had never learned any basic life skills.

  “I guess you’ll just have to wait and find out,” I whispered and lifted Sabrina out of his arms. “Come on. We need to get ready for the event downstairs.”

  I grabbed his hand and tugged him toward the door, slipping Sabrina back in the bathroom with her mom and siblings.

  7

  Kandi

  From across the room, I did everything possible to avoid staring at Ford. Ford, who helped kids paint their pumpkins. Ford, who became adorably animated with the kids and put on a pumpkin puppet show for his table. Ford, who despite his gruff exterior, had a soft spot for children and animals.

  And princesses.

  I smiled as he looked up, catching me staring. His brows lifted, eyes sparkling with intensity, as I waved goodbye to the few remaining families—Ronnie, Lex, and Olivia and Cam, Lydia, and Maddie.

  It was only two o’clock, and I should have been exhausted. But I was wired—wound up and excited at the prospect of helping kids by doing something I loved so much.

  I felt rather than saw Ford come up behind me and his hand slipped across my torso. Without thinking, I dropped my head back, resting against his broad chest, and sighed as his arms snaked around my waist, holding me tighter.

  “I counted the donation box,” he whispered. “You raised one thousand two hundred and twelve dollars.”

  I turned slowly to face him, blinking up at him in the warm light of the candy store. “My best year yet,” I whispered. “I can’t help but think having you here brought in some of those single moms who got their own eye candy while their kids got real candy.”

  He snickered and shook his head. “Please. Those women don’t want a dirty farm boy.”

  I laughed and shook my head. “You don’t know women at all, you know that?”

  “Oh, I know women. I think I know them better than they know themselves sometimes.”

  I snorted at that and rolled my eyes. Just like a man. “Are you seriously going to mansplain how women operate to me?”

  He chuckled a deep rumbling laugh. “Absolutely not. I value my balls and I’m pretty sure you’d have them on a stake if I tried that.”

  “Okay, then,” I said, somewhat satisfied. “For the record… watching you with children is super sexy.”

  His brow arched impressively. “Oh, yeah?”

  I nodded, not trusting my voice to answer. “You want kids?” he pressed.

  “I do,” I answered. “After the incident where I thought I was pregnant, I realized just how much I wanted them. And then Ben’s reaction? Well…” I snorted. “I don’t have to tell you. You were there.”

  His jaw clenched as he nodded. “I’m sorry that happened to you,” he added softer.

  “It was a relief, actually,” I said, realizing the truth for the first time myself. He seemed surprised by my response.

  “How so?”

  “Well, as much as I want a baby, if I had really been pregnant, I’d still be stuck in a relationship with Ben.”

  Ford’s expression darkened. “You would have stayed with him? After his reaction to the news?”

  I shook my head. “No. No, I couldn’t have stayed with him after that. I just mean that our lives would have been forever connected with a child. Even if we weren’t romantically together. The fact that I was never pregnant was a relief because I could walk away from Ben with a clean break.”

  Ford nodded, seeming to understand that, and compassion edged into his features. “For what it’s worth, you’re going to make an incredible mom someday.”

  I laughed and rolled my eyes. “Based on what? What you saw for a few hours today?”

  He shook his head. “No. Based on what I’ve seen in the last two years. You’re compassionate and kind and wonderful to the kids who come into your shop, yet firm and don’t allow yourself to be walked all over just because you’re cute.”

  He bent and pressed a kiss to the right side of my jaw. “And petite,” he added, kissing the ot
her side as well.

  I wet my lips, blinking slowly up at him. I was in a haze of desire, blinded by the fog surrounding us. His eyes were open, locked onto me and dark with arousal.

  His words warmed me to my core and my chest hitched as his hands fell to my waist. He gripped me with such a commanding presence that it robbed my lungs of breath. I tilted my chin and parted my lips in an involuntary response to the sight of his full and inviting mouth.

  He moved slowly, dropping his mouth closer to mine and stopped when he was just a breath away. “Are you offering your lips to me now?” he whispered, so close that his lips brushed against mine ever so gently as he spoke.

  “God, yes,” I said, hoarsely. It was all I could do to not push onto my toes and claim his mouth for myself. I felt wild and out of control, lust pulsing in my core. Ford, on the other hand, seemed totally in control and gently brushed his lips across mine.

  A low moan vibrated against my lips and it took me a moment to realize it was my voice moaning, not Ford’s. He repeated the action, deepening the kiss, softly sliding his lips over mine.

  My hands fell to his thick biceps and I squeezed, this time following my instincts and pushing onto my toes as I opened my mouth to him.

  The kiss was slow and leisurely, not like last night when we were in a frenzy of desire. I sank into that kiss, falling deeper into the sensation of his lips on mine, committing the feeling to memory. I wanted to live in that moment forever as he nibbled on my bottom lip.

  “Wow,” I said, a gush of breath releasing as he pulled back from the kiss.

  He blinked, both of us adjusting to the light as we opened our eyes, and I watched as his pupils dilated, then became smaller, the black nearly indistinguishable from his dark brown irises.

  I felt dizzy and light on my feet as I pointed to the staircase. “Let me run up and change and grab the cats. I assume it’s okay to bring them tonight?”

  I loved the smirk that tilted his mouth. “Does that mean you’re going to keep your promise and make me a home cooked meal?”

 

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