Page 58 of Enchanted to Meet You

I rotated the plate to get a better look at it, then grinned in spite of my sleepiness. “Aw, did you make an egg and bacon smiley face all for me?”

“Yes.” He didn’t return my grin. He settled onto his own stool across from mine, with his own plate, and began eating voraciously. Pye, whose normal morning routine was to demand to be let out as soon as I woke, sat patiently at his feet, gazing up at him adoringly and showing no interest at all in going outside—or in me. “Another thing I’d like to do today is get a look at that book.”

“Goody Fletcher’s book?” I took a bite of bacon. It was exactly the way I liked it. Not too crispy, but not too floppy, either. This man seemed to be able to do anything, including cook the perfect piece of bacon. “Okay. But why? I’ve read it so many times I have it memorized by now, and there isn’t anything in it about a rift. It really is just a collection of recipes and household tips.”

“Even so. Why do you think Rosalie Hopkins wanted to get her hands on it so badly, back in the day?”

I shrugged. “Aside from the love spell, which didn’t work for either of us, she always hated it when anyone had something she didn’t. Which wasn’t that often, because her family is so wealthy. I’m not sure she ever even liked Billy that much. She was just mad that I had him and she didn’t.”

“I’d still like to take a look at it.”

“Be my guest,” I said. “It’s in the living room.”

He regarded me over his now nearly empty breakfast plate, one golden eyebrow raised. “The living room?”

“Yes. On the bookshelf.”

His other eyebrow rose. “You told me you had it in a safe place.”

“Itisin a safe place. Who would think to look for a book like that on a bookshelf? And even if they did—”

“Jessica. It’s a handwritten book from the sixteen hundreds. I’m not saying you haven’t done a great job keeping it safe for all these years, but I’m sure it’s fairly easy to find.”

“Okay,” I said, scooping up egg yolk with my toast. “Go ahead and look.”

“Fine.” He rose from the counter. “I will.”

I swiveled on my stool to watch as he crossed the dining room and then went into the living room to look for the book. For once Pye, perhaps knowing what was coming, didn’t follow him, but stayed near me. I looked down at him and winked. He slow blinked back at me, a sign, I’d read, that cats reciprocated their owner’s love, and accepted them as their cat equal.

“It’s in here?” Derrick was standing in front of my bookshelves, looking up at my many cookbooks, celebrity memoirs, books on herbology and the Craft.

“It sure is,” I said.

“You have a lot of old books in here.”

“Well, my parents did own an antiques shop.”

“Did they leave a lot of books behind?”

“No. These are all mine.” Despite the early hour and seriousness of the situation, I was enjoying myself. “Why? Is only Plutarch good enough for you?”

“No, I enjoy reading a wide variety of books,” he said, still scanning the shelves. “I just don’t keep them around after I’ve finished them.”

“Oh, right, because you travel too much for work. Your work going around, informing witches that their towns are under demonic attack.”

He gave me a sarcastic look. Then he reached up and expertly pulled down a large book covered in a lurid black-and-yellow dustjacket.Best Movies of the 1980s, 1990s, and 2000s,the dust jacket exclaimed.

“Watch out!” I cried in alarm as he turned the book toward him and opened it.

But it was too late. A thick cloud of black powder erupted from inside the book, covering his chest, arms, and hands.

I couldn’t help it. I dissolved in laughter.

“Yeah,” I said, grabbing a handful of napkins and then hurrying over to him. “I forgot to mention that I do have a security system. It’s called my exploding incense powder spell.”

He stood perfectly still as I dabbed at him with the napkins. He wasn’t laughing with me, but he didn’t look upset, either.

“I told you I’d find it,” he said, still holding on to Goody Fletcher’s book.