“Uh. Yes. I’m good?” Hopefully, that was the right answer.
The sidelong glance as he turned away made her second guess. Good Lord, what was wrong with her?
She peeked around the cake as he took her up two flights of stairs. His butt had her full attention, two perfect orbs that she really wanted to grab.
“So, this is the kitchen,” said the man. “You can set it down anywhere. Hold on while I announce it to the guys.”
Looking up she stiffened. He was talking to her, but all she could image was licking frosting off his pecs. God, this man needed a shirt.
She nodded. “Sure. Okay." The second he walked out of the room her sense came back, and she used the table right in front of her for the cake.
The place was simple. Four refrigerators took up an entire wall. Judging by that man’s body, she figured he could probably pack away the food. One by one, loud roars of laughter filtered in, followed by more massive men. She knew firefighters had to be fit and everything but holy crap. They might need to hose her off, or she’d combust. Thinking back on her knowledge, most of this fire station was made up of shifters. The few that had come to the shop were huge. They always seemed huge. Demon blood agreed with this species that's for sure. Why didn't she get that lot in life? She'd never felt at home in her own life.
She needed to stick her body in one of those refrigerators.
There was no looking away as one guy grabbed a stack of paper plates, and another forks. For the first time in her life, she felt small and petite. There was something else too. Her skin tingled. Flexing her fingers and gently twisting her wrists she tried to shake off a magic that wasn't hers or wasn't one she understood. Trying to peek around without staring, her eyes caught the dark-haired guy from earlier. Was she breathing? Good Lord her chest hurt. Her magic danced on her fingertips, and she rubbed the itch of it against her pants.
Who was he and how could she get him?
The sound of male voices caught her attention before she lost all of her senses.
One after another the guys stood, all looking at her. She counted five, and although each was good looking in his own way she still couldn’t pull her attention away from the first guy.
One looked away to talk to the guy that seemed to suck all the air out of the room. “Ethan, good call on letting her in. This is a drop off we can use.” The guy sniffed the air.
Ethan. His name is Ethan. Olivia made a note that the guy she’d have wet dreams about was named Ethan.
“Does the little witch have a name then?” asked a tall blond.
She folded her arms over her stomach. There was nowhere to hide. Steadying her nerves, and finding her confidence in front of these men she spoke. “You’re shifters, I’m guessing?”
They nodded. “Yeah. And you’re a witch, I can smell the scent of magic on you,” added another.
She squirmed.
“So.”
Looking up, her blood pulsed at the deep, smooth voice surprising her. He'd come out of nowhere. Ethan stood next to her, closer than she thought was proper for a stranger.
“Do you have a name?” asked Ethan.
She held her breath. Had he just talked to her?
Licking her lips, she attempted to swallow down the crazy idea that life depended on getting her hands on him. If he’d just put a shirt on, maybe she could think.
“Yes.”
His lips stretched into a small grin. “Can I know it? Or is it a secret?” he asked.
“Oh. Right. Sure. It’s Olivia.” The words rushed out on a need for air. Embarrassed, she added, “but everyone calls me Livi.”
He took a single step closer, and her magic seemed to grow a mind of its own. It reached out from her skin like a tiny child tempting fate, looking to see if anyone noticed it before touching the shiny new object.
His eyes bored into her. “Alright, Livi. So what do we owe you for this delicious gift?”
She could smell the scent of mint on his breath and the sweat on his skin.
“Nothing. I figured a firehouse would have enough people to get rid of a small cake. I can’t sell it.” She broke away, taking in the cake again. A few slices remained She waited for the pang of anger or hurt from her ex to surface again, yet felt nothing. It's as if she buried the last of her feelings for him in the cake.
Sparks of magic danced at her fingers as her thoughts ran full circle back to the beast of a man radiating masculinity in front of her. She bit her lower lip. What would it feel like to run her hands over those muscles?
What ex?
“So can you?”
For the first time, she pushed through her insecurity and looked at him, meeting his eyes. A flash of gold behind the green had her unnerved. She’d never been this close to a shifter before. She’d been told to stick with humans and warlocks. Settling for anywhere she could hide and blend in was fine, until now. The feeling hit her that with him she wouldn't be seen as a half-talent witch or a failure to her well known magic family. The fact she had curves and hips that didn't check off a lot of boxes for most men seemed to evaporate into the air around them.
“Can I what?”
The sound of his voice was like whipped frosting as it melted against her tongue, smooth and decadent. Olivia couldn’t turn away from the intensity. Her nerves sparked, a fire raging along each vein as if it were a fuse heading straight to her heart.
What was she asking? Oh right.
“I don't remember."
Cake. I was talking about cake.
"The cake. You can eat it, right?"
“What do you think?” Ethan asked.
She turned from them to him and back to
