With the money Henry had so generously given her, she could put a down payment on a tiny house and park that sucker far from any further alchemy experiments. Callie's brewing and stewing in the basement would eventually make the creaky old manor fall down around them.
As the voices of her coven sisters got louder, Ivy knew there would be no going back to sleep. She struggled out from under her heavy blankets, so tired she could barely muster up the energy to pull a sweater on over her pajamas.
Astrid passed her at the bottom of the stairs, absentmindedly staring into an empty teacup, in the zone and probably downloading some cosmic information. Juliet and Kerrigan gave Callie a hard time, and Rowena bustled around with an armful of her best-selling silk pillowcases—she would probably spend the day sewing charms onto the colorful fabric—with a dark scowl on her face.
Ivy hustled to get out of the witch's way, hurrying out through the open front door, her belly turning circles at seeing Uriah on the porch. He straightened up as soon as he saw her; those preternaturally bright eyes of his settled on her chest, his lips quirking as he read the words emblazoned on her favorite sleep shirt.
The cactus printed on the soft fabric looked somewhat like a hand extending a middle finger while proclaiming, 'don't be a prick.'
Uriah wasn't waiting for her with a box in his hands, so the only other package he could have brought for her was the one in his pants. Unerringly, Ivy's gaze dropped to the front of his jeans, and sure enough, there was quite a bulge.
“My eyes are up here,” he grumbled roughly, but the expression on his face was far from displeased about her perusal of his body.
She gave an unapologetic shrug, watching with no small amount of satisfaction when Uriah's nostrils flared to take in her scent. “What are you doing here?”
With a frown wrinkling his brow, Uriah took her question as an invitation to come closer, the toes of his boots hitting the first stair, putting them eye to eye. “I needed to talk to you. Are you hungry?”
Ivy blinked in confusion; her brain still had not kicked into gear. “Hungry?”
“Yeah. I found a patch of wild blackberries the other day and have been craving waffles ever since. Can I make you breakfast? My place isn't far. You don't even have to change clothes if you don't want to.”
Butterflies took wing in her belly, her sleep-deprived brain focused solely on Uriah being close enough to touch. To smell. To see the bright yellow flecks swimming in his amber eyes.
“I um... Rowena might need me for—”
“I DON'T! GO HAVE FUN!” Rowena shouted from inside the house.
Juliet popped her head back out the door. “Seriously, go. You could use a good dicking.”
Ivy choked on nothing, and Uriah looked over her shoulder at Juliet, clearly horrified. “Breakfast! I said breakfast!”
“Right,” Juliet drawled, giving an exaggerated wink before disappearing into the house.
Ivy wanted to die when Callie's voice reached her ears, “Who's getting a dicking? I want one, too.”
“Me three, sister.” Juliet sighed dismally.
To spare herself further humiliation, Ivy hurriedly shoved her feet in her pair of Wellies.
“Let's go before they come out here and start giving us tips and tricks.”
Uriah snagged her hand as she passed, warily glancing over his shoulder as he fell into step beside her. Ivy didn't pull away, too busy marveling at the perfect fit of her fingers laced with his.
She was so focused on the warmth of his skin and the delicious roughness of his callused hands, she hadn't realized they were walking across the open field toward her orchard.
“You walked over here?”
Uriah nodded, lifting his chin in the direction of the woods that circled the clearing around the house. The Little family had amassed over six hundred acres, the homestead located on the front third of the property. Uriah led her east of the house, the smell of the citrus blossoms every bit as intoxicating as that crooked grin of his.
“I bought up the land adjacent to the property a while ago. The house isn't far. What's that look for?”
Ivy shrugged, looking back over her shoulder at the three-story Victorian manor sitting in a sea of gently rustling grass. “There are boundaries around the property to keep people who aren't invited away. If you just waltzed on over, there might be something wrong with the warding.”
Uriah gave a manly grunt of understanding, his fingers tightening briefly on hers as they passed into the woods. “I know better than to trespass on witch-protected lands. I called and asked Rowena for permission to roam when I bought my property. My bear doesn't always respect boundaries, and I happen to like having my fur firmly attached to my body.”
“The boundaries are supposed to evoke a sense of discomfort. The worst thing that would happen to someone determined to cross is they'd see their worst fears boiling out of the woods toward... them.”
Ivy trailed off and stopped walking only a few feet into the tall trees, frowning as she felt something strange. A prickle of unease that made the hair on her arms stand up in alarm. She utterly adored the woods around the manor and walked the pathways beneath the thick canopy as often as possible just to relax.
She'd never felt more at home than she did walking through the forest, but today something wasn't right. With a frown of concentration, Ivy let go of Uriah's hand and turned in a slow circle, her eyes moving slowly to try and locate the source of her discomfort.
“What's wrong?” Uriah demanded, immediately moving to shield her with his much bigger body while he lifted his face to sniff at the gentle breeze.
Ivy shook her head in confusion, rubbing at the goosebumps that rose on the back of her neck. “I just got a weird feeling. It's probably nothing.”
“Never doubt your instincts, Ivy.” Uriah left her speechless as he peeled his gray thermal off with a ripple of muscle. His chest was covered in a light dusting of hair, just thick enough to emphasize the masculinity of his chest and abdomen, but not so thick as to wonder if he was already half shifted. Speaking of…
“You're not about to shift, are you?” Ivy managed, hoping she wasn't drooling.
“Fuck yeah, I am. My sense of smell is better in bear form. Just because we can't see it or hear it, doesn't mean it's nothing.” He paused with his hands poised at his belt, biceps and forearms flexed to show off the corded strength lying just beneath his flesh, looking at her with a hint of wariness. “You don't have to be scared. My bear would never hurt you.”
Her heart melted right then and there. She couldn't hold back her smile or her sass. “Take it off, Care Bear. I'm not afraid.”
An arrogant grin curled his seriously kissable lips; his belt buckle jangled as it bounced off his thigh, and his zipper hissed down.
Ivy crossed her arms over her chest to keep her hands to herself while she watched Uriah take a wide stance, his chin lifted at a cocky angle. He let her look her fill, toeing off his boots before shucking his pants.
Ivy hadn't ever seen a shifter go furry in person, and she knew modesty wasn't really part of their culture, but damn. Uriah just let it all hang out there—and there was a lot to hang—without a single hint of hesitation.
“What, uh... what if it's just a regular human out there hunting or something?”