Chase shuffled up Royal Street toward Spellbound Sweets and glanced at the time on his phone. Five-fifty-nine p.m. He’d caught a glimpse of the store hours posted on the door when he’d been there that afternoon, and the shop was scheduled to close at six. With any luck, the place would be empty when he got there.

He hadn’t been avoiding talking to the witch. Not really. After their meeting with the coven, he’d spent the afternoon planning the bar menu for tomorrow and making sure they had enough ingredients in stock for the barbeque nachos he had planned. It wasn’t his fault he didn’t finish until five-forty-five. Sure, he could’ve taken care of the cake issue beforehand, but he’d dealt with enough witches for one day. Hell, he’d dealt with enough for the rest of his life.

Mumbling a prayer to whatever gods might be listening, he scrambled to find a way to approach the situation. He had to apologize for being a dick, number one. Even if the cake had tasted as bad as he’d pretended it did, he’d been out of line.

But there was something about the way her temper had flared that caused something to burn inside of him. And when the clouds gathered in her eyes, he couldn’t help but want to experience the storm.

She was sexy as hell, and that was the problem. There were too many mysteries surrounding her. Too many red flags in his mind. But it was his job to get to know her—thanks to Luke—and he always followed through on his orders, no matter how ridiculous and scheming they may have been.

At five after six, he tried the door. Warm metal greeted his palm as he gave the knob a twist. Damn. Unlocked. Rain’s dark curls bobbed as she snapped her head up and pinned him with a heated gaze. The gray in her irises seemed to swirl, undulating like a whirlpool, making the rest of the world disappear. She wiped her hands on a towel and glided around the counter with the grace of a swan.

“Can I help you?” She caught her bottom lip between her teeth, and the strength in his knees wavered.

He gripped the door knob tighter, his own body heat—combined with the sun-warmed metal—making his palm sweat. “I see you’re about to close. I’ll come back tomorrow.”

“Please don’t go.” She reached toward him then dropped her arms to her sides. “I want to apologize for the way I acted. It was unprofessional.”

“No. I want to apologize.” He let the door fall shut behind him. “That’s why I’m here.”

The corner of her mouth twitched. “You want to apologize? Or were you told to?”

“Both. I was out of line. I’m sorry.”

Her pink lips curved into a smile, revealing a set of perfectly straight, white teeth. He could imagine the way they’d feel nipping at his neck, gliding down his stomach to… Whoa. Stop right there. He cleared his throat and shoved his hands in his pockets.

“Apology accepted. I’d offer you a snack, but since my baking skills are apparently lacking…” She crossed her arms.

“Yeah, about that…” He stepped toward her. “Your cakes were amazing. Luke and Macey would like you for their wedding.”

Her eyes widened briefly before she blinked away the surprise. “Why did you say they were terrible?”

“As second in command, it’s my job to protect the pack. You being a witch made me wary. Then there was this.” He took her hand and held it between both of his. Her lips parted as she sucked in a small breath, and then her eyes locked with his. What was it about her eyes?

He released her hand. “Why don’t I feel your magic?”

She lifted her chin. “I don’t have any magic.”

“You have to. If your sister is a witch, that means at least one of your parents is. Magic is in your blood, but I don’t feel it. Why is that?”

She lifted one shoulder as if to dismiss him and glided behind the safety of the counter. “I’m a dud, okay? Let it rest.” She glared at him, daring him to press the issue.

He’d hit a sore spot. Maybe she was telling the truth. Some second-born weres didn’t have special abilities, though he’d hardly call them duds. They had the magic in their veins, and they could continue the supernatural bloodline. He stepped toward the counter. “Is that why you aren’t part of the coven? Because you don’t have powers?”

“I’m not part of the coven, either.” Snow’s heels clicked on the tile floor as she approached her sister and wrapped her arm around her shoulders. “There’s no requirement to join.” Rain gave her a harsh look, and she dropped her arm to her side. “Sorry. Not helping?”

“Not really.”

“Here.” Snow handed Rain a stack of papers. “The wedding contract. I’ll be in the back if you need me.” She cut her gaze between Rain and him. “It’s good to see you again, Chase.” She strutted to the back before he had time to respond.

Rain slammed the papers onto the counter and paced to a glass display case. Now he’d hit a nerve. Hard. Would the coven deny someone entry because she didn’t have powers? Leave it to witches to turn against their own.

“I’m sorry if I upset you.”

“I’m not upset. Anyway, my sister and I belong to our old coven.” She yanked a tray of cookies from the case, and it fell from her hands, scattering the confections across the floor. “Crap.” She dropped to her knees, disappearing behind the display.

“Let me help you with that.” He rushed around the counter and joined her on the floor.

She snatched the cookie he reached for. “I don’t need help. Thank you.” Scrambling for the rest of the cookies, she tossed them on the tray.

He reached for one that had landed halfway beneath the cabinet, but she grabbed his wrist. Her fingers were soft and warm wrapped around his arm, and while he didn’t detect a magical signature from her skin, another kind of electricity shot straight to his heart. Why was he drawn to this woman? Was it her secrets? The mystery and danger brewing in her eyes? Or was it something else entirely?

Keeping a firm grasp on his wrist, she used her left hand to snatch the cookie and toss it on the tray. “Please don’t show me any kindness.” She released her grip and rose to her feet before carrying the tray to a waste bin and dumping the crumbling cookies into the trash.

What an odd thing for her to say. He spotted a cookie she’d missed and picked it up, examining the blue-frosting question mark drawn on the top. “Does the five-second rule apply?” He flashed a grin, hoping to get a smile out of her, and held up the cookie.

“I wouldn’t.”

Damn. No smile.

She set the tray on the counter. “You’re already wary of witches. Those were clarity cookies. Snow makes them with magic.”

He tossed it in the trash and wiped his hands on his pants, hopefully wiping away the damn spell before his skin absorbed it. “You sell spells to humans? That’s allowed?”

She rolled her eyes. “It’s a simple clarity spell, and they know it when they buy it. All it does is help them see their goals more clearly. Yes, it’s allowed.”

“Does it work?” He sauntered toward her and leaned a hip against the counter.

“Depending on the person’s intent, yes.” She moved toward him. Her eyes held a curious look as she dropped her gaze to his mouth briefly before flicking it back to his eyes.

A strange magnetism danced between them. Was she as drawn to him as he was to her? She seemed to be. But she was a witch, and his sudden urge to take her in his arms and kiss those soft, pink lips blasted a warning alarm in his brain. He had a job to do, and getting involved with the person he was supposed to protect the pack from wasn’t part of it.

Then again, with the dead witch in the morgue and Rain without powers, maybe she was the one who needed protecting. Possessiveness coiled in his core as if his body had already decided she was his to take care of without consulting his mind first. Where the hell had this unwelcome emotion come from, and how could he get rid of it?

She cleared her voice and stepped back. Damn it, he’d been staring at her. And she’d been staring right back at him.

“Are you a chef?” She blinked twice, and her composure returned, the moment they’d shared dissolving as if it had never happened.

“No. Why do you ask?”

“No one has ever noticed the nutmeg in my classic vanilla-almond. And your comment about the zest in my lemon cream…There was no zest in it, but you must be familiar with cooking to make such an accusation.”

“I’m self-taught. I do the menus for the bar and cook for my sister and niece.” A pang of guilt spread through his stomach, and he rubbed the back of his neck. “I am sorry I said those things. All of the samples were delicious. Luke liked the vanilla best, so they’re going with that one.”

Her lips curved into a smile, and his heart slammed against his ribs. Damn, she was beautiful.

She scribbled something on the stack of papers and handed them to him. “If you can ask your alpha to sign this and bring the deposit by tomorrow, I’ll add them to my calendar.”

Chase grabbed a pen from the counter and signed his own name, adding the number for the bar and his personal cell to the form. “I’m on cake duty, so my signature will work. I can bring the money tomorrow.”

She took the papers. “I’ll look forward to seeing you.”

“Me too.” He shoved his hands in his pockets. That was his cue to leave, but he couldn’t make his legs carry him to the door. He wanted to know this woman, but damn it, he didn’t trust her. In the forty-five minutes he’d spent with her, his mind and his dick had waged a war inside his body. “Do you want to go to dinner?” Crap. It looked like his dick won that battle.

She opened her mouth to respond, but her brow furrowed, the storm in her eyes brewing as if she fought her own battle. “I…” She clamped her mouth shut and chewed her bottom lip. “Thank you, but no.”

Snow emerged from the back of the store and flashed her a strange look, but Rain shook her head.

This cue to leave he didn’t miss. “Right. Well, be careful heading home. I love this city, but it’s not the safest place in the world.”

“Don’t worry. I live right here.” Rain opened her arms, indicating the bakery.

“I’ll bring the deposit by tomorrow. Good evening, ladies.” He shuffled out the door and rubbed his chest, trying to rub away the sting of rejection. What the hell was he thinking asking her to dinner?

He wasn’t thinking, and that was the problem. Not with the head on his shoulders anyway. The clicking of heels on concrete grabbed his attention, and he turned around to find Snow prancing after him.

“Chase, wait.” She stopped a few feet in front of him and glanced at the bakery. “Rain’s in the back. She doesn’t know I’m talking to you.”

“Okay.” Why did that matter?

“My sister is a really great girl.”

“I don’t doubt that.”

“She’s kind of a tough nut to crack, though. I know she turned down your offer for dinner, but if you keep trying, she’ll come around.”

He held her gaze, trying to figure out her motivation. Was she attempting to play match-maker for her sister, or did she have an ulterior motive? He never knew with witches. “Thanks for the advice.”

“She eats lunch in Louis Armstrong Park near the statue when the weather is nice. Tomorrow’s forecast is sunny and warm.” She smiled and spun toward the bakery.

“Hey, Snow?”

She stopped and faced him.

“Rain said she still belongs to her old coven. Which one is that?”

“We’re from Miami. We’ve only been here six months, so we need to make sure things are going to work out before we change. See you tomorrow.” She wiggled her fingers and strutted away.

His mind reeled. Miami? Did they know what happened to the witch in the morgue? Could they have been involved?

The battle to think with the right head raged inside him. He wanted to know every inch of Rain’s body and every thought in her mind. The primal instinct to protect her, to make her his, roared inside him. If he listened to his beast, he’d know she couldn’t be involved.

Then again, his wolf thrived on emotion. His feelings about the sexy witch could be clouding his judgment. Lord knew he’d been wrong about witches before. He wouldn’t make the mistake of trusting one again, no matter how deep these strange, new emotions ran.

First order of business: report the new info to the alpha. Contract or no, Luke might change his mind after he heard the news.