Icing On His Mate (A Move Over Fate Novel)

by Michelle Ziegler

  Peeking around the box as her foot hit the top stair, the end was in sight. An open door greeting her in a short few steps.

  Laughter tumbled through the open door, and pink and blue streamers dangled like vines in the doorframe.

  “Oh good. You must be the baker,” said a woman walking towards her.

  Olivia huffed in a few breaths before answering.

  “Yes,” was all she said as her lungs practically started a fire in her chest.

  “Oh, wonderful. Here, let me help.” The young woman grabbed one of the boxes and carried it in. “I was so worried you wouldn’t have been able to deliver when you called about the cake. Honestly, we didn’t care just as long as we got your red velvet. I don’t know what your secret it, but it’s wonderful.”

  Olivia straightened up a bit at the comment. “Oh, well thank you. I’m sorry for the change. I think we are planning to transition to a full cupcakery, but the cake recipes will stay the same.”

  Olivia’s eyes flicked one way, then the next.

  A longing Olivia didn't want to recognize surfaced as she stepped into the baby overload party.

  I'm never finding the right one.

  The idea hurt, but the thought of Ethan brought an ache deep within her stealing a breath as her steps faltered.

  "I think cupcakes will work better. Maybe I can control all these big appetites. I had no idea that shifters ate so much."

  “I've only just met my first shifters, well I wouldn't say met. But yes, I've seen their appetites. It matches their size though doesn't it?” Olivia asked. She nearly shook in need as she remembered the size of Ethan and how it would feel to have him pressed up against her body.

  The woman smiled as she looked over her shoulder. “You have no idea. I'm really new to shifters too. My friend married, or mated one."

  Olivia nodded. "What's the difference?"

  The girl shrugged. "Just the term. Shifters prefer mate, while I prefer married. Anyway, this way. Do you need help? And ignore all these people. Everyone showed up early to help.” Shaking her head, she shrugged. “And I mean everybody. Even the dad and mom to be.”

  Olivia gave a weak smile. “Oh. That’s nice.” She pointed at the ribbon. “Is this one of those gender reveal parties? No one asked for any specific color of cupcakes, just flavors. Did I mess up?”

  Marci smiled. “Oh no. The parents are having twin cubs. One boy and one girl. Sweetest couple.”

  Olivia took a deep breath, sucking down her pain. She was okay being a successful business owner. She was fine being herself. If anything, she’d learned she had to love who she was before anyone else was going to love her back. Too bad it had taken her years to love herself.

  Pressing her lips together she bit back the whimper of sadness and turned back to the boxes.

  “Here, this way. I don't mind grabbing a box. Let's just put them on the island in the kitchen. Anyway, you're Olivia, correct? The owner of the shop? I’m Marci.”

  “Nice to meet you, Marci. So, are these your kids?” Olivia asked, and instantly felt rude. None of them looked like her in the first place.

  Diverting her eyes, she focused on the boxes as she saw a look cross Marci’s face. It could very well have been terror or wistful hope.

  “No. Defiantly not. If I have anything to do with it, I won’t have kids ever. Not with the man my mother expects me to marry. The guy will be a crappy dad.”

  “Just place the boxes back there. I put some of those cupcake stands here, just fill what you can. If that's alright?”

  A quick nod and she set to work. Distraction was the best way to cope with anything she didn't want to think about.

  Olivia pulled out each iced treat and started placing each on the stands.

  “I’m sorry to hear that about your fiancé. Mine left me and honestly, I don’t really miss him. He was a warlock and a really cocky one at that.”

  Marci laughed. “What is it with cocky male witches? You’d think they thought they were kings of the paranormal world.”

  Olivia smiled. “So, your parents are forcing you to get married?”

  Marci chewed her lower lip. “Yeah. It’s a long story. I’m not much with magic, and my family is. They think that maybe marrying a high-profile warlock is going to make me seem less of a mundane and keep their social status.”

  “I understand completely. My parents aren't exactly in the highest circles, but they can’t handle the only thing I seem to conjure - outside of disaster, is something out of nature. The tiny wind gust is apparently nothing. My cousin can pretty much do anything. Just ask her. Last holiday she boasted that she can conjure up a batch of world peace if the government would let her."

  "Don't let it bother you. You seem to be putting your talents to good use. At some point, the covens are going to need to understand not everyone has the same magic. You'd think this was sixteenth century Europe or something."

  Olivia smiled at her. "You're so right. I hope that at some point our society recognizes that. It's not black and white is it? Not really." Olivia glanced at the cupcakes. "I really hope you like fondant flowers. Going back to the fact I'm basic at earthy magic, I can design a flower just not a baby booty.” The flowers were pretty if she had any say in it.

  Marci nodded as she reached for one of the little cakes. “It's okay really. That also explains the really delicate details on the pink cupcakes. They're beautiful. My friend is going to be so happy, she loves strawberries right now, hence the cake flavor. I don't think she'd notice if the cakes were plain. As long as they are strawberry flavored.”

  Turning each cupcake just so, a small part of her practically danced at the compliment. It didn’t take much these days.

  A knock at the door jamb had both of their attention turning to see who it was.

  Marci winked at Olivia. “Maybe your luck will change. There are a few single guys coming today. Feel free to stay." She walked away as she said, "excuse me.”

  Olivia shook her head and lowered her voice. “I think I’m good. I don’t need anyone right now. I’ll just enjoy being single for a while.”

  Something within her pulled her to look towards the door. There was no turning away once she saw him. Nearly dropping the cupcakes as her hands shook, she recognized the shifter from the fire station instantly.

  Calm down, you idiot.

  Deep breaths followed one after the other and didn’t seem to help steady the nerves quivering at his presence.

  Why was he here? Why wasn't she wearing more makeup? Crap. Just Crap.

  Dear Lord, she wanted to hide right now. Her body had hot flashes knowing Ethan stood feet away. Glancing around she realized the effort was useless. The open concept apartment left little to hide. She glanced over her shoulder, all cool and calm. Ha. Right.

  Out of the corner of her eye, she nearly drooled over the muscles stretching the t-shirt he wore. His presence begged to be noticed. Something deep within her craved to be noticed by him.

  Olivia turned back to the cupcakes. A spell to create a magic box would be nice right now. She could just crawl right in and stay there. Too bad that was beyond her scope.

  A little girl ran by giggling to join other squealing kids.

  “It's fine. He probably doesn't even know I'm here. I'm just a short, squatty little baker,” she said to herself. “There. That looks good. Maybe one more here-”

  “You talk to your cupcakes now?”

  Jumping at his voice, she dropped one, the poor thing landing with a plop. Glancing at the cake and back at him she nearly jumped. Magic zapped from her fingers unexpectedly.

  “No...” Olivia mulled it over. What had he said? This had never happened before. What was her magic doing?

  Conversation. This was a conversation with a hot guy. Right. “No. Don't be ridiculous. I talk to the voices in my head, not cupcakes.” She furrowed her brow. That backfired completely. Her attempt at a joke was just sad.

  Heat started to creep up her chest. Could she have a hea
rt attack just from being near Ethan?

  Turning, she paused. He stood on the other side of the island, a giant ‘congratulations’ balloon bouquet the only thing between him and her. The balloons the only thing stopping her from the likelihood that she might forget all decorum and jump on him.

  He chuckled, and the deep, smooth sound of it spoke to the long-forgotten muscles down below. Shake it off. She wasn't merely unnerved by him, she was damn near gutted.

  “So, on that note of crazy, I'm done, and maybe it's time to go.”

  Olivia piled extra cupcakes into a single box and placed it on the counter behind her. She needed to stay busy, her nerves kept firing and she didn't know what to think. Olivia grabbed the large empty boxes, breaking them down flat. All while pretending the walking wet dream behind her wasn't still there, his eyes on her every move. Like that isn't creepy. Who was she kidding though? All she wanted to do was stare at him.

  Boxes broken down, Olivia realized she'd been on autopilot with no goal. Now what? “Any idea where the trash is?” she asked him.

  Her fingers pricked again. Rubbing them together she focused on steadying her magic and her nerves. Magic misbehaving was new. She'd heard rumors of witches coming into their powers. Heard about the rush. She'd never felt that though. Not until today.

  Ethan smiled, a motion that took him from burn your panties handsome to so hot the sheer possibility of her body incinerating from the inside out had her fanning away the flames licking at her cheeks.

  “I think it’s under the sink.” His eyebrow cocked, and all she could image was that he knew. He knew what he was doing to her.

  “Oh, of course.” She sidestepped over to the sink and opened the doors. The small trash wasn’t going to handle the over-sized cardboard.

  “I don’t think she’d appreciate me leaving these in here. I’ll just take them to a dumpster.” A quick getaway was the ticket. Get away from whatever he was and the power he seemed to have on her. She needed to break away from him and stop thinking about how his muscles would feel under her palms.

  Ethan hadn’t moved. He stood with his hands in his jean's pockets - just staring.

  Olivia rocked her weight from one foot to the other and cleared her throat. Why wasn’t he talking to her? Why the crap wasn't she moving away?

  “I’ll just take these down then,” she said, walking past him. He sidestepped and blocked the way.

  “Excuse me? Did you need something?”

  Ethan said nothing, his face blank.

  Olivia stepped around him, and this time he didn't counter her. She made it to the door only to be stopped by Marci.

  Damn it. She needed to get away from Ethan as fast as possible. If she didn’t, who knows if she’d finally grow a pair and just jump him. A quick peek over her shoulder,and his muscular silhouette stood a few steps behind.

  "Hi, Marci. All setup. I'll just take these and -"

  “Oh good. Those look great. And the rest are over in those boxes then?” asked Marci cutting off Olivia's rambled thoughts.

  Swallowing down her emotions Olivia nodded.

  “The box right there,” she pointed to a white package on the opposite counter. “Yes, the extras are there. You should be all set. I’ll take the trash with me unless there is something else I can do for you?”

  Marci smiled. “Perfect. Thank you again. Have a wonderful day, Olivia.”

  With that, the hostess walked away fussing about some additional decorations as two more kids or maybe the same two kids, giggled around the room.

  The boxes, now broken down, were longer than her arms. Her hands held them at an award angle, and she dropped one. Bending down, she grabbed it, and it unfolded. She tried to refold it and just gave up dragging part on the floor.

  “Can I help you?” Ethan asked.

  “Excuse me?” she asked. “Oh, the boxes.” When he’d offered to help her, images painted in sin flashed through her mind. Everything in her was wound so tight that at this second she'd find pleasure in the simple act of rubbing up against him on her way out.

  Stepping into the freedom of the stuffy hall that smelled more of musty staleness than people, she could tell he was still watching her. Biting back a moan, her body ached, reminding her exactly how long it has been since a man touched her. Another red flag. Her fiancé had been the one to push for no sex until marriage. An old witch tradition that almost no one these days believed in. Until now though, Olivia had never really cared that much for sex. Maybe this was what all the hype was about? Perhaps the knowledge that tasting him even just once would never be enough gave her the proof nothing in her past had been right. Those eyes that she'd lose herself in any day said everything she'd never known she'd been missing.

  He moved aside, his gaze never leaving her.

  Clutching the empty boxes to her chest, she tried to focus on a spot in front of her. Anything to help her reach fresh air.

  Don’t trip. Don’t do it.

  A part of her wanted to wipe at the back of her dress, check and make sure she hadn't sat in anything. Maybe she didn't like all this attention.

  I don't want to be married. It's fine if I never see him again. Correction. She didn’t want to marry some guy her parents had picked out. And, who was she kidding? Leaving him might be the hardest thing she'd ever done. Her legs shook like jelly with each step.

  My cake is the lightest and sweetest in the city. I don't need him. Her shoes thudded against the carpet of the landing as she headed to the door. A lonely sound. She’d only ever wanted a family that loved her. Her mind was screaming that she'd been waiting for him.

  Focusing on each breath, Olivia questioned why walking away from a stranger hurt. Stepping out onto the sidewalk she looked for the alley where there had to be a dumpster. The smell mixing with the hot heat of the day said there was definitely a dumpster.

  Turning the corner, she picked one lining the wall and tossed in the boxes.

  “Livi, right?”

  Olivia started and dropped the dumpster lid with a clang vibrating off the brick. Turning around she caught a whiff of woody musk and nearly swooned in satisfaction. He smelled wonderful.

  “Yes. That’s me. And you’re Ethan, right?”

  He nodded and took a step closer. They simply studied each other, nothing else was said for several breaths.

  “That cake was amazing.” Ethan spoke first.

  Cake? What cake?

  It took a minute to remember a few days earlier. Then she questioned how the man could look like her walking fantasy and have eaten an entire cake. Life wasn’t fair. Her ass could attest to that.

  “So glad you liked it. Sorry it was ugly. I’m not good at cakes. I’m good at baking. That’s about the only thing I excel at. My ex, he was the decorator.”

  Distant sounds filled the air between them, loud horns, tires squealing here and there. Unnerved, shifting her weight from one foot to the other several times before stopping.

  Ethan grunted. “He sounds girly to me.”

  Olivia rolled her eyes. “That’s kind of a rude comment.” She mulled it over. Was he saying that decorating was a girl job? Or was he implying it sounded like her ex was feminine? “You do realize lots of men cook, right?”

  He shrugged. “Yeah, I guess. Just didn’t expect a man to be the one to decorate cakes. I guess anyone can do whatever.”

  “Not that I liked him much, but that is a really sexist comment.” She took a step forward, her hand raised pointing at him.

  He stood his ground as she continued to close in. “So, you’re telling me he was man enough for you?”

  Olivia stood toe to toe. The hint of soap reaching her.

  Without another word, he leaned forward. Her body froze.

  He kissed her cheek, and she nearly choked.

  Wait, what? She'd just been mad. About what though?

  “What? No. I mean yes? Oh, who cares? He left. But just remember anyone can do anything. Just because he decorated cakes doesn’t mean anyt
hing. He was a warlock. He wasn’t good for much except that man could conjure up some amazing edible arrangements.”

  She frowned. “In the end though, I don't think I was good enough for him." She started falling into her own thoughts again. Annoyed that although she hadn’t really liked her ex, even he'd rejected her.

  Ethan said nothing. She watched as he sniffed the air. Her own nose curled as the scent of sour trash permeated the space, trapped by the red brick around them and the cracked black asphalt.

  Forcing down her pride and remembering the fact she was starting to love herself, she decided to at least try and strike up a conversation with him. Sometimes you only had one chance at a dream, and he sure as hell was hers.

  “So, you’re a shifter? My mom always warned me about shifters and how they only want one thing, that and vampires.”

  Ethan’s gaze grew intense. She shivered despite the heat of the day.

  “And what is that?” he asked.

  Her breath caught, and the sounds of the city faded as she tried to ignore the itch of her magic flowing through her. A strength she’d never felt before danced along her fingertips the closer she came to him. A confidence she’d never known blanketed over her with each step. Tingling, completely separate from the coursing life of her magic, settled between her legs. She paused in front of him struggling to keep her breathing even. The air around her crackled.

  “My mom always said shifters just want to get in your pants,” she whispered.

  Chapter 4

  Ethan sniffed at the rotting air of the alley, separating out the scent of her. Sweet. Innocence. Sugar. Calm. Peace. A deep yearning need clawed at him. His wolf shifted, bowing lower the closer they came.

  She was so close he could feel the energy pulsing off her body. He fisted his hands, letting his nails bite into his palms as he fought against the shift. The wolf swayed side to side, trying to determine his position.

  His wolf feasted on the sweetness of her. She wanted him. The scent of her magic a spicy contrast to her sugary sweet arousal. The vision of her beneath him, her back arched as he lapped at her heat, circling the sensitive nub between her legs had his pants so fucking tight he wasn’t sure they weren’t going to pop at the seam.