Bewitching the Baker: A Paranormal Chick Lit Novel (Witchy is the New Forty Book 1) by Elizabeth Kirke

Author:Elizabeth Kirke [Kirke, Elizabeth]
Language: eng
Format: azw3, epub
Published: 2021-02-10T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Six

I hadn't felt this nervous and excited going on a date since before the worst Love Spell Ever was cast. It felt strange to be looking forward to it so much. As we walked down the sidewalk together I realized that it was because, for the first time since casting it, I didn't have the lingering doubt in the back of my mind that the spell was real and the relationship would crash and burn – if it even went beyond one date in the first place. This time though, I had just the tiniest sliver of hope that it would be different that Chef Sorrell would be the one I had been waiting for. Or more accurately, the one the love spell had been waiting for.

As soon as it occurred to me, however, my joy at the prospect of the date quickly turned into doubt; I had no way of being sure that the spell was real and that now, after all this time, this guy I barely knew was supposed to be my soulmate or something. That wasn't the way real magic worked.

In fact I wasn’t even sure it was a date. At least, I wasn’t until he suddenly broke the silence.

“You look beautiful.”

I looked at him in surprise and he flashed me a shy smile.

“I mean,” he added quickly, “I’ve always thought you were beautiful, but it’s a different picture without the apron and all the flour.”

“Thank you,” I said with a nervous laugh. “You’re not so bad yourself. I mean…” I cleared my throat; I could have cursed myself for the awkward response. Not that it wasn’t true, he did look quite a bit different when he wasn't dressed up for the cameras. It occurred to me that aside from some icing, he usually didn’t seem to have any flour or other ingredients on him. “How do you always stay so clean? I asked. I can’t bake anything without ending up with flour somewhere.” I didn’t add that it was usually on my hips from my annoying tendency to wipe my hands off behind my apron. Even as I asked, I realized that I hadn’t seen him bake at all since his arrival. “Have you even baked here yet?”

A strange look passed over his face and he seemed to hesitate before saying, “I don’t really bake.” I furrowed my brows in confusion and he went on, “Hollywood magic, you know? I’m on the show for my decorating skills. All the baking is done for me.”

“Oh. I’d hate not being able to bake my own cakes,” I said.

He cleared his throat. “I’ve always preferred decorating anyway.”

I don’t know why, but suddenly everything seemed awkward. Maybe the love spell – or was it a curse? – wasn’t broken.

Our arrival at the restaurant saved me before anything got even more awkward. Chef Sorrel held the door open for me, then one we were inside he extended an elbow for me. It was a little old-fashioned, but the chivalry made me smile.

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