Page 6 of The Mechanics of Broomstick Racing

With a surprised blink at both Zephyr and Neil, Tawny gave up trying to figure out the vibe and rushed to the counter. Neil said as soon as Tawny was out of earshot, “I can’t tell if you’re trying to torment me or flirt with me. I’m too old to waste time figuring out which one it is.”

“Don’t say you’re too old when we’re the same age.”

“You’re older.”

“Well, that decides it. I’m back to tormenting you. No matter how tight the t-shirt underneath your flannel is.”

He pulled self-consciously at the clinging material. “My sister did her laundry at my house and shrunk half my shirts. This isn’t on purpose.”

“And yet, we all still benefit from it.”

Tawny returned Zephyr’s wallet. “I should head back. Lyle gets testy with the customers during the day.”

“And I’m behind on deliveries,” Zephyr said. She glanced at Neil, letting her eyes wander over his broad chest as he buttoned up his flannel defiantly. “Neil, your cakes are safe from me. For now.”

“Please speak normally.” He followed as she slid out of the booth and made for the diner’s exit.

Zephyr only grinned back at him in answer. She stepped outside, about to grab her broomstick and fly off when Tawny poked her shoulder. “Let’s check on Karah.”

“Girl code. Right,” Zephyr agreed. She still needed to get used to hanging around people actually capable of empathy. “Where did she go?”

The women turned a quick circle, searching for their missing piece. Karah rounded a corner, her steps loud and quick against the cobblestone sidewalk. She typed furiously on her cell phone, muttering to herself until she noticed her audience.

“Oh.” She stopped, trying and failing to school her expression into serenity. “Just one moment—” She fumbled another message but her phone slipped from her shaking hands and bounced on the sidewalk.

“Let me,” Neil insisted, stepping forward. He bent over, snatching up the phone but tearing his flannel shirt in the back in the process. He straightened with a curse. “Dammit, Karah. You have to stop shrinking my clothes. I don’t need anyone to do my laundry for me—and don’t say you owe me!”

“But I use your washing machine constantly,” Karah protested. “I have a teenage girl who changes her outfit four times a day.”

“You shrank my best pair of jeans. I ripped out the damn crotch.”

“Really?” Zephyr interrupted, suddenly interested in their squabble.

Neil snapped his fingers above his head. “Hey, hey! Eyes up here.”

“Sorry. You can be distracting.” She shrugged and met his gaze straight on until he scowled and averted his eyes.

Karah hooked her arm through Tawny’s. “Okay, I’m out before this gets any weirder.” The pair headed off, but Tawny glanced back a few times at Zephyr, who pretended she didn’t notice the meaningful glances.

Neil grabbed her broomstick and threw it to her. “I still expect my delivery on time.”

“I don’t know, might be a weather delay,” she said with a smirk. She waved a hand at the perfectly blue and clear sky above.

“I can promise you a weather delay,” Neil warned her. “I want that delivery within the hour or you can fly home under your personal rain cloud. Courtesy of me.”

“Easy, storm witch.” She hopped on her broom, circling him and rising until she could look down on him. “I’ll do my job. Just wait for me.”

“I’m always waiting for you,” he said, reminding her of his promise. That annoying, time-killing promise to monitor her flying.

She wouldn’t let it bother her. Men rarely kept their promises, in her experience. Eventually, Neil would become tired of waiting, and she’d be left alone.

Again.

Chapter 4

Neil did not give up. He waited outside his garage every morning with a plain coffee mug in hand, steaming in the crisp fall air. His pestering absolutely wrecked Zephyr’s “race” time.

Until, with a triumphant flourish of a red marker upon her map, she changed her route.