Page 40 of Resurrecting the Witch
“What are you doing here?” Cliona pulled away from me. “Are those cat treats?”
Shite.
“Yes. I am glad I ran into you since you were my next stop. I’d like to cook you dinner at your home tonight.”
She peered up at me and gifted me with one of her sweet smiles. “That sounds lovely.”
“Great. Let’s go.”
Chapter 11
“And it had a bunch of zombies on it,” Patrick said, mentioning the mug Lennox got him for the twentieth time in the last hour we’d been together.
“I’m going to have to tell her how much you’re obsessed with it,” I told him as I shut the door to my black Volkswagen Beatle to get the groceries we got in the trunk for dinner. I didn’t drive it often, preferring to walk in nature most days since my cottage was only about a mile away from the town square, but luckily took it into town today to haul some orders around for Samhain. It came in handy for that and for bringing groceries home.
The laugh that burst out of him made me jump. “I suppose I am. Obsessed with the mug, that is.”
I went to grab the canvas bags but was immediately shut down as Patrick hauled them all with what looked like very little effort, leaving me to close the trunk. He hadn’t even complained about the cramped space in my Volkswagen, and it was amusing to see his giant frame squeeze into the front, even with it leaned all the way to the back seat. The small conversation we’d had during our trip to our main grocer in town, Star Gazers Grocery, kept my mind off the fact I wouldn’t have any time to clean my house before Patrick saw it. It wasn’t a complete dump, but it sure wasn’t guest ready, or Give-Me-The-D ready, like I was hoping.
Apart from the neck licking incident and him giving me the best orgasm I’d ever had in my shoppe, I’d had very little physical interaction with him. And I was beyond ready to sample the goods of Patrick. Before Hunter I’d loved sex more than air. Since Hunter I hadn’t had a casual hook up because of my own paranoia of who I let into my life. Lennox had tried to convince me to go with her to the mainland for a night of fun, something I had done quite a bit before Hunter, but I had always refused.
I couldn’t leave Haven Pass vulnerable to anyone else.
I wouldn’t.
And sleeping with residents, while not forbidden, had never appealed to me before Patrick.
So tonight, my dry spell would officially end, and Patrick would stop teasing me with his endless flirting.
“I’ll grab these, you get the door unlocked.” I looked at him in his black and gray flannel that managed to showcase his huge arms, and his dark jeans that hugged his tree trunk thighs deliciously. Patrick was hot as hell, and he was even hotter when he gave me little orders. It was a small command and I kind of loved it. Patrick was dominate in a way I craved and hadn’t felt in too long. Every small order he gave, even simply telling me to unlock the door, sent shivers down my spine at what was surely to come when we both had our clothes off.
I walked across the loose gravel of the driveway and onto the cobblestone path that led to my front door. Each stone had various runes carved into it for protection and even more Ó Cuinn magick underneath them directly touching the soil. The stones were varying shades dark gray, and the edges were covered in a vibrant green moss I’d only ever seen in the PNW. I instantly felt the connection I still had with Gran when I walked this path each day and it brought me more joy than I’d care to openly admit.
I looked up at my simple cottage and tried to see it through Patrick’s eyes without the nostalgic details that made this place my home. It was a one-story A-frame cottage with a loft space for my bed. The outside was a dark red cedar that Pops had used his magick on to make it indestructible. I wasn’t sure what spell or element he used, but they’d all been alive for over five hundred years when Hunter fucking Jacobs showed up, so I imagined his wealth of knowledge played a role. There were dozens of bird feeders that were more for the squirrels at this point. But the best feature, and honestly my favorite part, was the zombie gnome and faerie garden that lined the path on both sides. On the left were so many gnomes I’d re-painted to look like gory zombies covered in blood. They all faced the opposite direction across the cobblestones to their enemy. The zombie faeries that were in their own battle with the zombie gnomes were my personal favorite due to the ridiculousness of it. The contrast of pretty delicate wings I had fun painting to look like ripped and torn flesh brought me a chuckle every time I walked by. The various plants acted as shelters during their battle and while some might have seen an overgrown garden, every leaf was intentional.
I looked at Patrick who had stopped, clearly admiring my work of art despite the bags of food in his hands. “I’ve never been more intrigued and terrified in my life.”
“Smart male.” I laughed and walked up the four stairs to the entryway. I put in the security code and then unlocked the three deadbolts before placing my palm to the side panel to initiate the complete unlocking mechanism. Security wasn’t something I took lightly anymore, and luckily Bert, when he wasn’t running Bert’s Hair Removal, had a background in security before migrating to the island. He’d been here since the beginning and had known me since I was born, a fact he liked to remind me of quite a bit.
“I’m impressed,” Patrick admitted. “I was worried about you living out here all alone, even with your massive magick levels, but my worry might have been misguided with this type of security system.”
“Bert is our security expert when he isn’t giving folks haircuts. It was necessary after the attack, but you haven’t met the most important part of my security system yet.” Patrick’s eyebrows hiked up in question as I opened the door to let him in.
The entire cottage was an open floor plan except for the downstairs bedroom, ensuite bathroom, and guest bath. The loft could also be seen but the rest of the space was only separated by furniture instead of walls. I loved it. I needed to be able to see everything at any given time and this was the best way.
I heard the jingle of Schmidt’s collar and the pitter-patter of tiny cat paws across the hardwood floors.
“Ah, a feline security system.” Patrick made his way to the kitchen to put the bags down, and I appreciated his ability to not wait for me to show him in or anything. He felt comfortable here, and I saw in the way his eyes lit up that he wasn’t put off by the mounds of clutter and half-finished projects littering the walls and various tables throughout the space.
“He’s better than any fingerprint scan, aren’t you my sweet handsome boy?” My voice went to a high pitch only reserved for Schmidt attention time. He was a cat, but he was also one of my best friends. He kept me sane, and also what witch could survive without having a black cat?
“Are you going to introduce me?” Patrick had stepped back up to where I was petting Schmidt on the back of the couch.
I nodded. “Schmidt,” I picked him up and felt the rumble of his purr against my chest. “This is Patrick. Patrick, this is Schmidt.” I turned my body so my little buddy’s face was turned toward Patrick.
Patrick didn’t say anything, instead pulling out the plastic bag Schmidt already associated with treats from whenever Lennox visited. He struggled in my arms and I let him go before he had a chance to dig his claws in. He jumped onto the floor and began walking in figure eights through Patrick’s legs, rubbing his cheeks against him.
“The little traitor,” I mumbled.
