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Page 36 of Accidentally Engaged

Notes and Hazards:

Can’t Help Falling In Love

Iwait for Patsy to call me after she’s out of jail, to resume her attacks and demands. If she does—I’ll tell her no. I’m fighting. This time, I’ll fight this, fight her. I’m no longer some broken-hearted lost guy, shuffling through in his pathetic post-break-up stage. I have Chloe next to me, and we have a good life ahead.

I can see it.

“This is the first time I’ve marshaled the troops,” Chloe says as we stroll together, hand-in-hand.

“Hm?”

“Oh, there are lots of problems around here. Sometimes people don’t see them. I mean, ‘normal’ people don’t see them. There was the time Frankie Watson’s daughter got kidnapped—for about fifteen minutes. Eddie Hyde chased the dude down and got the little girl back. They got married. Frankie and Eddie, not the little girl.”

“Ah. Got it.”

“And then there was the time that Marina’s ancient overlord demon daddy showed up and tried to drag her off to the underworld. That was like a full-scale paranormal posse event.”

“Is someone writing these things down? They’d make amazing books.”

“I don’t know if anyone would want to read little sappy tales of romance and the neighbors getting together to solve problems. It’s probably boring,” she sighs. “But this was my chance to help, and I liked it. You can count on your fellow paranormal types.”

“I guess so.” We pause at Mad Hatter Music. “Wanna go in? Today, I have time.”

“I will for a little. I have to open the shop, especially if we still want to have our little deserted campus rendezvous tomorrow, and then go and see that lady with the rescue dogs on Friday.”

As we browse the stacks, I ask, “Are there other normal people married to supernatural types?”

“A lot! There’s Wesley and Gloria, Kev and Marina, Madge and Reynaldo... There are more, too. And some of us just haven’t found our match yet.” Chloe huddles under my arm and holds up an old vinyl record from the Seventies, its cover blurry and golden orange, with candlelight and a shadowy piano on the cover.

“Endless Romance.Hits to Set the Mood.” I read from the cover and tuck it under my arm. “Keeper.”

“Yeah. You are.”

WORKING TODAY IS TORTURE. Patsy hasn’t called Jared. Liam hasn’t called me. The store is unexpectedly busy when Lennox, the mothman arborist and gardener who works at White Pines, brings the local garden club in (I didn’t know we had a garden club, and now I have to join) to hunt for unique vases, baskets, and planters. For an hour or two, the shop distracts me. In the afternoon, Jared distracts me, coming in with his laptop and sitting on the backstairs, saying he wants to work here, just to be near me.

And when he’s around, sitting here doing his thing, in my space, there’s no lust boiling over, no heartbreak, no worry.... just something calm running through me.

“I want to do this every day for the rest of my life,” I tell him, closing the register after the last customer leaves for the day. “Not where you sit in the corner and work, though that’s great. Just be with you. Be near you. Feel you near me. You soothe my soul, Jared.”

He shuts his computer and crosses to my side, removing his glasses. I smirk. “Oooh, serious kissing is about to occur,” I purr, then lose myself in his embrace—right as I notice that stubborn purple African violet springing into life, one bud opening, then two, three, four, five, suddenly seven...

“I have to go to the Night Market tonight. I haven’t been there all week, and there are some customers who don’t like to come into the shop, some who can’t travel easily in daylight,” I whisper against his mouth.

“We have a few hours until it’s dark. When did you want to head over?” he whispers back, hands gentle on my sides.

“Around seven?”

“Good. That gives me plenty of time.”

With a sudden swoop, Jared picks me up, and I curse the people who ever thought his extra padding meant he was weak and soft. He’s strong and just soft enough. He swings me easily from his front to his back, draping my arms around his shoulders so I’m riding piggyback as he hurries up the short flight of stairs to my attic apartment. Marmalade goes scurrying out of his path.

“What are you doing?” I giggle as he lays me down on the bed.

“I always have an afternoon snack around this time.” He smirks and pushes my dress up my thighs as he drops to his knees. “And I want you to know something. I’m a very goal-oriented person. A lot of ‘nerds’ are. We gotta beat the level. Finish the quest. Get the gold. Save the princess. Whatever. Since I first heard your song, my goal has been to make you love me for real—and to make you addicted to me as much as I’m addicted to you.” His thumbs hook into the legs of my panties and pull down, leaving me bare under his searching fingers. He hones right in on my pleasure spot with two fingers while his lips kiss their way from my knees to my rapidly soaking center.

“I’m addicted already. Can’t help it,” I moan as his mouth descends, owning me. His tongue sweeps and separates my outer lips before moving in to fuck my pussy, all the while circling my clit with the same firm, even pressure that drives me crazy. It builds as he turns me into a sloppy, slick puddle, screaming his name while my hands dig into his hair.

I don’t tell him, but after yesterday, I’m also addicted to the feel of him coming inside of me, of feeling the hot burst, the frantic vibration deep inside that seems to be the cherry on the sundae of pleasure he gives me.