“Not only that,” Constance said with a decisive nod. “It was the most incredible, curl-your-toes-and-light-up-a-cigarette-afterwards sex of all time.”
Marabella’s eyebrows winged upward. “Wow. You can tell all that just from her aura?”
The wattage of Constance’s beaming grin intensified, nearly outsparkling the small diamond stud piercing her nose. “Yep. Clarissa is almost glowing. It’s probably due to the fact that she’s gone so long without having—”
Clarissa cleared her throat pointedly. “Could we please move on from this? I doubt Marabella wants to hear about my sex life.”
“You’re kidding, right?” A snort fell from Marabella. “You’re talking to the girl who can’t give her damn virginity away. Please let me live vicariously through you.”
A wicked smile tipped Constance’s lips. “Yes, do tell. You can start with who your wonder stud is.”
“Nobody you know.” Desperately glomming onto the first thing that could pass as a potential distraction, Clarissa plucked a package of lemongrass incense cones from the tabletop next to her. “When did we get these?”
“That was the lamest avoidance tactic ever.”
Ignoring Constance’s droll quip, Clarissa dropped the cones back in place and headed toward the sanctity of the stockroom. There was no mistaking Con and Marabella’s covert whispering behind her. Despite her firm resolve not to let them get under her skin, she still winced. Undoubtedly the entire coven—hell, all of Savannah—would know before the end of the day that she’d finally gotten laid, as Constance so charmingly put it. She also wouldn’t be the least bit surprised if her coven sisters started taking bets on who her mystery lover was.
Her head starting to get that familiar ache again, she closed the door to the stockroom and leaned against it, her shoulders slumping. It wasn’t necessarily that she didn’t want anyone knowing about Logan.
So why did it feel like she was hiding their relationship like some dirty secret?
No, scratch that. This wasn’t a relationship, for goddess’s sake. It was sex. Big difference. Regardless, she’d never been one to overshare her personal business with others. As much as Con and Marabella had seemed comfortable teasing her about her sex life, the conversation only made her feel…exposed. Equally vulnerable as her encounter with Seven had left her.
A soft knock rattled against the door, and she almost yelped. Cursing her jumpy nerves, she pressed a hand over her heart, willing its frantic thumping to ease. “Yes?” The single word came out more as a croak than an inquiry.
“Um, it’s Marabella. Do you have a minute?”
The promise of some precious alone time dissolving before her, Clarissa sighed and opened the door. “Come on in.”
“Thanks, I really appreciate this.” Marabella stepped into the cramped interior, her gaze skipping over the countless boxes holding unchecked inventory. Her expression reminded Clarissa of a raccoon’s while staring down the headlights of an oncoming semi. “Wow, talk about a lot of…stuff.”
“Constance went on a buying splurge last month.” Something she needed to talk to her coven sister about. If they didn’t start scaling back, they’d have to rent a larger space.
Suddenly remembering that come next week, Charmed Moon would no longer be hers to worry about, a dull pain bloomed inside her chest.
For the sake of her sanity, she’d never obsessed over what would happen once Seven owned her soul. It’d been easier not to think about it. But with that day roaring down on her, she could no longer turn a blind eye to her circumstances and how it affected not only her, but the others she’d sworn to serve and protect. Topping the list of harsh realities that she couldn’t just sweep under the rug—the coven would be without a mistress. Nearly hyperventilating at the realization, she swayed, her vision going wonky for a moment as she struggled to breathe.
“Hey, are you okay?”
The sharp concern in Marabella’s voice snapped Clarissa back to the present. She blinked before returning the younger witch’s stare. “Y-yes, I’m fine.” Her fingers shaky, she smoothed her hair off her perspiring forehead. “I’m sorry, what exactly was it that you wanted?” Whatever it was, she prayed it’d be something easier to manage than the potential disaster looming on the horizon if she didn’t find a replacement for her position in the coven within the next couple of days.
“If this isn’t a good time, I can—”
“Marabella, trust me, if you need my help, ask for it now.”
“Okay, if you’re sure.” Gnawing on her lip, Marabella cleared off a corner of the receiving desk so she could sit. “I’ve been mulling over the idea of opening up a web-based gift store, but now I’m envisioning what my bedroom would look like after my first buying trip.”
Clarissa frowned. “I’m sure Domino would be more than willing to free up some space so you wouldn’t be forced to work out of your bedroom.”
“Please. My mother can barely stomach the idea of me investing my inheritance this way, much less encouraging my…” Marabella mimicked quote marks with her fingers, “…harebrained idea by clearing out the damn basement for my workspace.”
Despite her own considerable troubles, Clarissa couldn’t help commiserating with Marabella. It must be hell living with Domino at times. As head leader of the witches guild, Domino was used to dishing out orders and having her will obeyed at all times. Her need for dominance over others didn’t stop at the office, either. Marabella had practically been kept on a short tether from the time she was old enough to leave the cradle.
“Have you considered investing your money in a physical storefront? Like what we have here? Space wouldn’t be an issue.” Wrinkling her nose, Clarissa scanned her surroundings. “Assuming you possess more self-control than Constance, that is.”
“But…I’m not sure I’d know what I was doing, running a physical store. What if I fell flat on my face?” Marabella caught her bottom lip between her teeth, the nervous habit giving away her self-doubts.
Clarissa wanted to throttle Domino for the part she’d played in aiding Marabella’s insecurities. “So what if you did? Would it mean the end of the world as we know it? Probably not.”
Marabella remained pensive and quiet for a few moments, presumably pondering the pros and cons of what Clarissa had said. Finally she broke into a huge grin and hopped to her feet. “I’m going to do it.” Giving a happy little squeal, she flung her arms around Clarissa.
Unused to such profuse displays of affection, particularly from a female, Clarissa stiffened. Her hands cramping at her sides, she battled against the tension and uncertainty that automatically prodded her into panic mode. She knew how to do things for people. That was easy and didn’t require her fumbling through socially awkward moments. But this? She had no clue how to react. And that realization only sent the tumultuous brew of anxiety already racing through her into hyperdrive.
Obviously unaware of Clarissa’s inner turmoil, Marabella tightened her hug. “Thank you for having faith in me. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
The heartfelt statement delivered an additional twist to the emotional vise clamping Clarissa’s chest. Would every little thing amount to a reminder of her numbered days? The lives she would no longer be a part of?
Giving one last exuberant squeeze, Marabella scooted from the room, leaving Clarissa alone with her glum thoughts.
Shortly after six o’clock, Clarissa gave up the pretense of getting any further work done. Snicking the door shut to the storeroom, she tracked down Constance in the small kitchenette. She waited until her coven sister finished rearranging the tray of whatever freaky health-kick food she was sworn on this week before tapping on the doorframe. “Are you okay locking up tonight?”