Read Online Witch at Heart: A Jinx Hamilton Witch Mystery Book 1 (The Jinx Hamilton Mysteries) by Juliette Harper - Free Book Online
Authors: Juliette Harper
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me. “How are you getting settled in?” he asked.
I felt myself going a little warm under the full attention of his eyes and told myself it was just the afternoon sun heating up the shop. “Oh,” I said, “you know how it goes. The cats are happy, therefore, I am happy.”
Chase laughed and said, in the tone of commiseration all cat lovers use with one another, “Do I ever. I built a little set of stairs so Festus can get on the bed and he wouldn’t use them until I switched out the rubber tread for carpet. He gave me that whole ‘good help is so hard to find’ look.”
He built his lame cat a set of stairs to get on the bed? Oh. My. God. I could very possibly be staring at the perfect man.
From beside me, Tori, who was fully tuned in to the little undercurrent of subtext that seemed to be developing between me and Chase, said, “How’d Festus come up lame?”
“He was born with a deformed hip,” Chase said. “Nobody would adopt him at the shelter and they were going to put him down. I couldn’t let that happen. Trust me, when he gets the zoomies at 3 o’clock in the morning, he does just fine on three legs.”
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. “Festus gets the zoomies?” I asked incredulously. “Why does he always limp so bad and meow to be picked up when I see him?”
Chase flashed me a grin. “He’s a cat,” he said. “A little man cat. He knows how to work the angles.”
We all laughed at that and Tori telegraphed me a look out of the corner of her eye that in our silent BFF speak meant, “He’s a keeper. Go for it.”
God love my girl, she doesn’t have a jealous bone in her body. It would never enter her mind to shift into competition mode because a guy was showing some interest in me.
“I don’t mean to sound rude or anything,” she said to Chase, “but I heard you were going to come bearing pizzas.”
“I come bearing the menu from the pizzeria,” Chase replied, taking a folded piece of paper out of the pocket of his jeans. “I didn’t want to run the risk of showing up with anything you all wouldn’t like.”
Fat chance. I’d eat tofu if Chase McGregor handed it to me.
We all conferred over the menu and Chase wrote down what we wanted. When Tori asked why he didn’t just phone the order in, Chase explained that the owner was running a one-man show and didn’t have time to be taking phone orders.
As we watched Chase cross the courthouse square with long, loping strides, like a man on a mission -- which he kinda was, because, hey, pizza -- Tori let out a low whistle. “That boy is fine ,” she said appreciatively. “I’m with Fiona. He can knock on my pipes anytime.”
“He is cute, isn’t he?” I ventured shyly.
“Cute does not do justice to that,” Tori said, grinning. “And he likes you.”
“You think?” I asked doubtfully.
“I think,” she said firmly.
“We’ll see.”
Inside I was turning cartwheels.
As promised, Chase returned with three medium pizzas, and a small sack of double fudge brownies. “I don’t know how it happened,” he explained innocently. “They just jumped into my hand.”
“Thank God you caught them before they hurt someone,” I said solemnly. “That’s the trouble with chocolate. It’s so aggressive.”
Since there was a table and chairs in the storeroom, we went in there to eat. To my surprise, Chase called out, “Hey Rodney,” as he put the boxes down on the table.
The resident rat immediately stuck his head out between the liniment cans and wiggled his whiskers in greeting.
“You know about Rodney?” I asked, opening one of the pizza boxes and almost swooning at the heavenly aroma that came wafting out of its cardboard confines.
“Sure I do,” Chase said, breaking off the crust from a piece of his pizza and offering it to the rat. “We’re old buddies.”
My eyes must have been playing tricks on me because I could have sworn Rodney high fived the tip of Chase’s index finger before
I felt myself going a little warm under the full attention of his eyes and told myself it was just the afternoon sun heating up the shop. “Oh,” I said, “you know how it goes. The cats are happy, therefore, I am happy.”
Chase laughed and said, in the tone of commiseration all cat lovers use with one another, “Do I ever. I built a little set of stairs so Festus can get on the bed and he wouldn’t use them until I switched out the rubber tread for carpet. He gave me that whole ‘good help is so hard to find’ look.”
He built his lame cat a set of stairs to get on the bed? Oh. My. God. I could very possibly be staring at the perfect man.
From beside me, Tori, who was fully tuned in to the little undercurrent of subtext that seemed to be developing between me and Chase, said, “How’d Festus come up lame?”
“He was born with a deformed hip,” Chase said. “Nobody would adopt him at the shelter and they were going to put him down. I couldn’t let that happen. Trust me, when he gets the zoomies at 3 o’clock in the morning, he does just fine on three legs.”
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. “Festus gets the zoomies?” I asked incredulously. “Why does he always limp so bad and meow to be picked up when I see him?”
Chase flashed me a grin. “He’s a cat,” he said. “A little man cat. He knows how to work the angles.”
We all laughed at that and Tori telegraphed me a look out of the corner of her eye that in our silent BFF speak meant, “He’s a keeper. Go for it.”
God love my girl, she doesn’t have a jealous bone in her body. It would never enter her mind to shift into competition mode because a guy was showing some interest in me.
“I don’t mean to sound rude or anything,” she said to Chase, “but I heard you were going to come bearing pizzas.”
“I come bearing the menu from the pizzeria,” Chase replied, taking a folded piece of paper out of the pocket of his jeans. “I didn’t want to run the risk of showing up with anything you all wouldn’t like.”
Fat chance. I’d eat tofu if Chase McGregor handed it to me.
We all conferred over the menu and Chase wrote down what we wanted. When Tori asked why he didn’t just phone the order in, Chase explained that the owner was running a one-man show and didn’t have time to be taking phone orders.
As we watched Chase cross the courthouse square with long, loping strides, like a man on a mission -- which he kinda was, because, hey, pizza -- Tori let out a low whistle. “That boy is fine ,” she said appreciatively. “I’m with Fiona. He can knock on my pipes anytime.”
“He is cute, isn’t he?” I ventured shyly.
“Cute does not do justice to that,” Tori said, grinning. “And he likes you.”
“You think?” I asked doubtfully.
“I think,” she said firmly.
“We’ll see.”
Inside I was turning cartwheels.
As promised, Chase returned with three medium pizzas, and a small sack of double fudge brownies. “I don’t know how it happened,” he explained innocently. “They just jumped into my hand.”
“Thank God you caught them before they hurt someone,” I said solemnly. “That’s the trouble with chocolate. It’s so aggressive.”
Since there was a table and chairs in the storeroom, we went in there to eat. To my surprise, Chase called out, “Hey Rodney,” as he put the boxes down on the table.
The resident rat immediately stuck his head out between the liniment cans and wiggled his whiskers in greeting.
“You know about Rodney?” I asked, opening one of the pizza boxes and almost swooning at the heavenly aroma that came wafting out of its cardboard confines.
“Sure I do,” Chase said, breaking off the crust from a piece of his pizza and offering it to the rat. “We’re old buddies.”
My eyes must have been playing tricks on me because I could have sworn Rodney high fived the tip of Chase’s index finger before
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