Since our historic takedown of Brandt Remington and company, the town of Wayward Bay has blossomed in ways we never could have imagined—not in our wildest dreams. Ricci and I won the next round of grant funding, along with three other local businesses—Small Notions tailor, Flowers on Main, and Dark Escapes, a new chocolatier that opened up around the corner from us. But after the awards ceremony, the five of us owners put our heads together and came up with a new plan. Something that will—with hope and patience and a bit of magic—make Wayward Bay even more beautiful.
So, with the blessing of Mayor Amalie Singh and the grant’s sponsors, we decided to pool the grants into a fund forallthe Bay’s small businesses, available to use as needed. Sometimes, that means awarding a smaller grant. Other times, a low- or no-interest loan. And in times of prosperity, it means donating back to the fund to keep it growing for years to come.
We also set up a small business advisory board helmed by me, Ricci, Emmie, and Mr. Corto, who was able to return to the Bay after Mean Beans was forced to close its doors for good and lost their rights to the building. Together, the board has launched new initiatives to help businesses partner with one another for even greater opportunities.
The Kettle and Cauldron is now proudly serving chocolates from Dark Escapes. Emmie hooked up with Flowers on Main to offer Valentine’s and birthday packages pairing roses and cupcakes. All of us are working together for the first annual Wayward Bay Busy Business holiday extravaganza, featuring gift baskets stuffed with our wares and gift cards that can be used interchangeably at any participating Wayward Bay establishments, from the laundromat to Glaze for Days to the movie theater and yes, Kettle and Cauldron too.
I’ve still got a ways to go in paying off my debts, but things are looking up on the financial front. When Beverly learned what her nephew had been up to—nearly swindling her entire estate right out from under her—she was eager to press charges and cut all ties. Together, we worked out a new payment plan for my back rent, and with the way business is going lately, I’ll be back in the black before I know it.
And now, I have a new dream. It won’t happen overnight. In fact, it’ll probably take me a few years to save up the capital, but I’m not going to lease this space forever. I’m going to buy it. Beverly and I have a plan for that, too. It’s an investment. Slow and steady. Totally worth it.
I also have my new employee. Still a little green, needs alotof supervision and hand-holding, but… Yeah. He’s worth the investment, too.
“Devlin, we talked about this.” I sigh, shaking my head as he emerges from the kitchen.
Some things never change.
“You don’t like the Santa hat?” He shakes his head, disappointment flashing in his eyes. “Violet, I know you’re a witch, but surely evenyoucan spare some love for Santa.”
“It’s not the hat.”
“What, then? I’ve washed my hands. The apron is freshly laundered and pressed, as requested. Employee of the Month, right here.”
“Seriously?” I look to the cats, both watching us with wide, curious eyes from their perch on the counter stools, their tails swishing. “Back me up here, boys.”
“You’re the one with the frowny face, mushroom.” Devlin picks up Grumpy and kisses him on the head, making the traitorous cat purr. “So if I’ve broken one of yourmanyrules, you’ll need to be more specific. Very specific. Still new at this whole upstanding mortal citizen thing, if you recall.”
“Pants, Devlin! You need to wear pants!”
“In public, yes. That’s what you said. But…” Flashing his signature mischievous grin, he releases the cat and hauls me close. “Pants would only get in my way. As yours are doing right this very instant. If anyone deserves an eye roll and a lecture, mushroom, it’s you.”
He doesn’t give me a chance to respond. Just plants a kiss right on my mouth, his cock growing hard against my thigh, fingers already working open the button on my jeans.
I laugh, squirming out of his hold. “Do you ever get tired of stalking me?”
“Do you ever get tired of being stalkable?” He kisses me again, hungry and relentless as we make our way toward the fireplace.
“Why are you like this?” I tease, my entire body already aflame from his touch, burning with the same desperate need I feel in his energy. The same desire.
“Because I’m the Devil, darling. I’ve seen it all, done it all, gottenallthe T-shirts. I was quite certain nothing could work me into such a state, yet here you are.Workingme.” He crowds me against the wall, tucking a finger under my chin and tilting my face up toward his. “From the moment I crash-landed in your quaint little tea shop and laid eyes upon these crazy curls, I’ve been in a semi-hard to fully erect state every time I look at you.”
“Everytime?” I narrow my eyes. “Not statistically possible.”
“Then blame the magic if you must, but it’s true. See exhibit A.” He grabs my hand. Presses it to the rock-hard bulge of his apron.
“Correlation doesn’t mean causation. Maybe you’re just easily turned on.”
Devlin laughs. “By the new Police Commissioner’s winter storm preparedness speech. Really.”
“I don’t know. Maybe you’ve got a thing for short, domineering bald men in fur-lined hats?”
“I most certainly… Oh, wait.” Devlin’s nose wrinkles. “That was averybrief phase during the Renaissance. So, fair point, but in thisparticularinstance, wrong.”
I’m cracking up again, as usual.
“And what about knitting circle?” he goes on.
“You had a hard-on atknittingcircle?”
