Romance Rules for Werewolves (Charming Cove, #3)

A reluctant smile crossed his face, and I was pretty sure that he was flirting back with me.

The smile fell, and the glower returned. “You should go before this room floods.”

“Right. Of course.” The grump had returned, but at least he was familiar. I left without another word, heading downstairs to his bathroom. I had to go through his bedroom to reach it, and it was far tidier than I’d anticipated. Tommy had been so messy, and I’d assumed it was a guy thing. More likely it was the fact that I cleaned up after him.

I scanned the room as I walked toward the bathroom door, unable to help myself from trying to learn a little more about him. But it was so empty. Maybe that was one reason it was so tidy: Rafe just didn’t have a lot of stuff. Like, it was barren. Prison-cell barren.

The lack of evidence of hobbies and enjoyments was weird, like he was someone who worked one hundred percent of the time.

Or he was a total weirdo serial killer.

Nah.

I would get serial killer vibes off him if that were the case, right? Totally. And as much as he was a miserable grump, he wasn’t a murderer.

I definitely wanted to know why he was so grumpy, though, and why there was so little in his flat. I shook the thought away. I was not going to get involved with a guy—even if only to figure out what his damage was. I was still recovering from Tommy and regaining my sense of self. No way in hell would I let a man interrupt that.

His bathroom was just as tidy as the bedroom, but it smelled divine. Whatever products he used filled the air with the scent of the forest and sandalwood. Fortunately, his shower had no problems at all—perfect temperature and water pressure. A quick inspection showed that his showerhead looked shiny and new, so maybe that was why.

Once I’d cleaned off and wrapped myself in the towel again, I headed out into the main part of the boathouse. Rafe was already back downstairs, and he averted his gaze from me.

“Is it off?” I asked.

“Yes. I fixed it for now, but we’ll need to get you a new showerhead.”

“Why didn’t this happen the first time I showered?”

“Probably because I was showering at the same time, and it cut the water pressure in half. Once you were the only one showering, it couldn’t handle any more. It was just too old.”

“You really know your house stuff, don’t you?”

He grunted.

“You know, that makes you the perfect candidate to help me fix up Lavender House.” I grinned at him. “I’d be out of your hair sooner if you did.”

“Don’t press your luck. I’ll get you a new showerhead and install it, but that’s it.”

“We’ll see.” I smiled at him, then turned to leave. Over my shoulder, I said, “Thanks again, Rafe.”

He didn’t reply, of course. But I was sure I could feel him smiling.





Chapter

Eleven





Isobel



I was at the Aurora Coven headquarters bright and early the next morning, armed with a plan to figure out what was wrong with my house. The idea had started forming while I’d been cleaning the garden the day before, but it had solidified when I’d woken at three a.m. with my mind racing.

Fortunately, Holly was at the desk again.

“You work a lot,” I said as I let myself in.

She grinned. “It’s an apprentice’s duty.” She gestured for me to sit in the chair across from her.

“Thanks, but I’ve got work to do. May I use the library again?”

“Absolutely. Have you figured out what’s wrong with the house?”

“Not yet. It’s not a ghost, and it’s not a curse. But I have a connection with the house—I’m sure of it. I just need to amplify that, and then maybe I’ll be closer to an answer.”

“Oooh, I like how you’re thinking.” She tapped her chin. “So you think your power is giving you a connection to the house?”

“Yep. I just need a spell to give my magic a boost, and then perhaps I’ll be able to understand more about what’s going on.”

“I have just the spell for you. Come on.” She rose and hurried. She selected a book that looked far older than the rest and carried it over to the table. “There’s something in here that will enhance your powers.”

She flipped through the pages, finally landing on a short spell. “You’ll also need some conduits. We’ve got some crystals that will help.” She pointed to a basket on the shelf near the door. “Choose about half a dozen of those.”

“Thanks.” I went over to the basket and sorted through colorful rocks. They were all shapes and sizes and textures, but I was primarily drawn to the amber-colored ones. They buzzed with power when I touched them, and I chose some that glittered with an internal yellow fire.

As I searched for the last one, Holly asked, “Have you ever thought of joining a coven?”

“Hmm?” I turned, torn away from my focus on the rocks. “A coven?”

“Yes. For work.”

“I don’t know.” The idea was enticing, though. Exciting, even. I would need to find something to do with my time when I finished fixing up the house, and the money my grandmother had left me wouldn’t last forever. “Maybe.”

“Emma left her position as apprentice to become a full-time member, so theoretically, there might be space if we have enough work to go around. That’s the one thing I can’t guarantee.”

The hope in my chest banked a bit. This wasn’t a huge town. How much work could a coven bring in?

“Don’t worry about it,” I said. I was just grateful these witches wanted to be my friends. I didn’t want to add the pressure of them trying to find me a job. “I’ve got a lot on my plate with the house right now, and who knows what the future will bring?”

“Well, think on it. I bet you’d make a great addition to the team.”

Her words warmed me, and I smiled. “Thanks.”

“I’m going to head back downstairs to keep an eye on the desk. Once you’ve got your crystals and you’ve memorized the spell, will you put the book back?”

“Will do.”

She headed downstairs, and I finished choosing my crystals and memorizing the spell. I carefully put the book back, then headed downstairs and said goodbye to Holly.

“See you at Potions & Pinot tonight,” she said. “Glad you’re coming.”

“Thanks.” I grinned at her, excitement fluttering within me.

On my way out of town, I stopped by Margot’s Tea & Cake Parlor, picking up a traditional Cornish pasty for myself and a sausage roll for Poa. I was going to need her help at the house, and I wanted to have a bribe on hand.

Fortunately, Poa accepted the offer of a sausage roll in exchange for her assistance, and after she’d eaten, we headed up to Lavender House.

As usual, it made its displeasure known as soon I entered, but I ignored it. Poa hissed, and I couldn’t blame her. Cats’ noses were probably more sensitive than humans’, and this place stank.