Page 5 of Bewitched By You

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“Of course, I’ll help you.”

“Oh, thank God,” she breathes, getting to her feet. “Can you come by the museum after work? We’ll go over everything I’ve done… and you can fix it.”

“Sure, I’m out of here at six.”

Sutton squeezes me so hard it borders on assault. “Thank you! I’ll buy you dinner.”

“Don’t sweat it,” I choke out, trying to loosen her grip on me. “Just stop strangling me with your love.”

Sutton releases me, the stress gone from her face. “Never. Bonus points if you can get Jonas to let you leave early.”

“I’ll ask.” I smile down at the silverware I’m rolling.

“Speaking of the tall, dark, and silent one… do you have a date for the ball?” She glances at him surreptitiously before raising her eyebrows at me.

“No, and I’m not entertaining this discussion right now,” I hiss through gritted teeth, my smile disappearing as I glare at her.

“Pussy,” she teases quietly. “You’ve been making eyes at him for the better part of a decade, but you’re too chickenshit to say anything.”

“You’re one to talk,” I quip back. “Took you the better part of a decade to figure shit out with my brother.”

Sutton leans a hip against the table. “That was different. I wasn’t pining. I was… marinating.”

“That sounds dirty,” I laugh.

She grins devilishly and wiggles her eyebrows at me. “Oh, it is.”

“Ew! Get out of here!” I laugh, pushing her toward the door. She winks at me before calling over to Jonas at the bar.

“You’re coming to the Wychwood this year, yeah? Can you keep our girl out of trouble for once?”

He lifts his chin in her direction, staying behind the bar until the door shuts behind her. Only then does he step around, joining me where I’m still rolling silverware.

“Dunno why she thinks I could keep you out of trouble,” he says, voice low. His scent invades my mind and I have this insane urge to lean closer just so I can breathe him in. I don’t though. My eyes wander to his hands as he grabs a fork, a spoon, and a knife, deftly rolling a paper napkin around the set. There’s this quiet power in the way his fingers move. Hell, the way all of him moves.

“Could I sneak out a little early tonight?” I ask, eyes riveted on his hands. God, the things I’d let him do with those… I have a sneaking suspicion he’d be incredible in bed. I bet he’s a pin-his-girl-to-the-bed-by-her-hands lover… And now that’s all I can picture. His thick body rolling over mine as he holds me down, taking me hard, filling every inch—

“Anything you need, Kenna.” Jonas’ gruff reply cuts into my fantasy, and I shake my head, clearing it. If I told him all the things I really need from him, he’d fire me.

“Thank you, Jonas.” I peek up at him, trying to pretend I wasn’t just thinking X-rated thoughts. He doesn’t need to know I’ll go home and slip my fingers between my legs, wishing it was him instead.

He nods, keeping his eyes on his work. A muscle jumps in his jaw, barely visible under his short beard. He always keeps it shaved in summer, but by the time the geese fly south each fall, he’s usually sporting a couple weeks’ growth.

“You quit shaving already, mountain man?”

He grunts and runs a hand along his jaw, glancing down at me. “Cold out.”

“That’s what scarves are for,” I tease.

“Don’t have one,” he shrugs.

“I’m not complaining.” I grin up at him.

He swallows and grunts again, heading back around the bar, and I bite my lip in frustration. That’s Jonas in a nutshell. If he thinks I’m even approaching flirting territory, he puts as much distance, and furniture, between us as possible.

I get it. I’m not his type. I’m too young. I’m too loud. I’m too impulsive. I’m Dean Carpenter’s little sister. There are probably a dozen other strikes against me that I can’t even think of right now, but I know that’s a big one. I’m not a viable date option, even in a town this tiny. Even though I know I should be used to that, it still sears through me like a hot knife.

I kissed him once, and he avoided me for three years. Does he really think I’d cross the line again and risk another exile? I don’t care how many times Sutton calls me a pussy. I’ve learned the hard way to be grateful for the little pieces of Jonas that I get.


Tags: Mae Harden Romance