He smells like the forest…
The scent was mostarousingto her senses, and she did not miss how it made her stomach flip.
He brought down the jar she’d barely been able to reach.
“Is this what you were looking for?” He raised an eyebrow, his lips curving into a smirk that made her feel strangely flushed.
Cate pried it from his hands, feeling strangely self-conscious. Flirting was never really her strong suit.
“I could have gotten it myself, thank you very much.”
“So modest.” He flashed an annoyed smile at her, and she felt her stomach flip, as if she were a mere teenage mortal with a crush, not at all something she expected from the attractive shirtless man in her kitchen in the middle of the night. She huffed in response.
“If this is to work properly, you will need to do as I say. Do you understand?” She popped the lid off the jar, and the scent of stale, dried herbs hit her like a mushroom cloud.
“That depends on what you tell me to do, sweet cheeks.” Gunner’s cocky tone made Cate half consider incinerating him instead.
“First and foremost, do not call me sweet cheeks.”
“Or what? What are you going to do if I don’t listen?” He smiled back at her, the sight all too appealing.
He’s enjoying this...
“Are you still drunk? What part ofvengeful goddessdid your tiny brain not process?”
She scowled at him as she crushed up the dried lavender and wolfsbane into a powder.
“Unfortunately, no. Whatever you did to me wiped the half decent buzz I had right out of my damn system.”
She could hear him walking around, looking at her things. The knowledge put her on edge.
Aside from Darcy’s regular visits, Cate didn’t allow anyone of the mortal variety into her home. For starters, her cabin was full of kitchen witchery and prized artifacts, the sorts of things that usually set average Joes on edge. Accursed items, a prized collection of ancient animal bones she’d used for years as runes, not to mention the oversized concept paintings that were as beautiful as they were bloody. Her natural penchant for dark, rich jewel tones and skulls was not the most warm and cozy aesthetic.
No, the only visitor Cate saw was her friend, and the occasional rescue she’d brought home from the animal rescue when they were in need of twenty-four hour care.
When she heard a clanging, she turned abruptly to see one of her statues on the floor in pieces.
“For fuck’s sake, didn’t your mother raise you not to touch other people’s things without asking fucking permission?” She set her tools down as she hurried over to the broken statue. Belle rubbed her lithe body along Cate’s legs as she bent down to clean up the mess.
Gunner looked like a deer caught in headlights. “It was the cat!”
“My darling Belle knows better. Clearly, you do not,” she grumbled as she swept the tiny pieces of marble into her hand. “Blaming it on the poor defenseless animal,” she tutted as Belle meowed adoringly.
Gunner shifted his weight, the look on his face perplexed. He seemed to be struggling with his words, and a part of Cate was rather happy at that notion.
Good.
Let him stew in his embarrassment.
Cate carried the dust and debris to the kitchen trash swiftly, washing her hands once more in the sink. The potent smell of lavender soap perfuming the air was almost relaxing. She dried her hands with haste and resumed her herb crushing.
“Don’t talk to me like I’m a fucking child.”
She could feel him, his energy behind her, closing in on her space. She turned around, her shoulders tensing as she gripped the counter behind her. Even though she only came up to his chest, she didn’t let that stop her from putting his indignant ass in his place.
“Don’t fucking act like one.” She could feel the sparks forming at her fingertips as she gazed up at Gunner’s dark eyes with fire.
Something about this man just makes me so….