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her.
    “Fuck me,” he breathed.
    The pumpkin patch was a field of sticky orange goo, with shattered pieces of twelve giant pumpkins scattered as far as the eye could see. Cass groaned as the truth hit her like a freight train. Tom had given her pleasure like she’d never known, and when she’d exploded in ecstasy, the pumpkins had followed suit.
    The last straw.
    Ignoring the curious neighbors that were starting to make an appearance, Cass swallowed her tears and took off barefoot across the lot. She didn’t stop running until she reached the safety of her house. Alone.
    Tom didn’t follow.
     
    THE NEXT MORNING dawned crisp and cold, but normal cold, not magical, freeze-your-nuts-off-kill-everything-that-grows cold. After a sleepless night, Tom spent the morning fielding questions and condolences on the destruction of his beautiful crop, and started cleanup. The questions he handled with a carefully vague answer – a burst pipe in exactly the wrong place, a buildup of pressure, blah blah blah. He gathered debris for mulching and salvaged a few wheelbarrows full of seeds for next season. The greenhouse was still overgrown, but the tendrils of magic had dissipated. He’d need more than a weed whacker to get the place back to normal. Through it all, Tom tried not to think. He wasn’t ready to process everything, and focused instead on physical activity, pushing himself to exhaustion.
    Unfortunately, his mind couldn’t block Cass, no matter how hard he tried to distract himself.
    Cass, whose raven hair felt like cool silk against his skin…who made the sweetest little cries of pleasure when he sucked her tasty clit… and whose pussy was hot enough to melt his cock as she rode him to oblivion. Cass, who was a witch that accidentally destroyed a year’s work by coming too hard.
    Tom sighed and wiped the sweat from his face with the edge of his shirt.
    He tried to convince himself that if she never spoke to him again, he’d be dodging a bullet. No doubt last night’s episode was just the tip of the iceberg. Who knows what might happen if they were in a real relationship? Who knows what might happen if he sank his cock into her again, maybe from behind this time, or up against the wall. Maybe he’d just strip her and fuck that sweet mouth while she played with her tit.
      Tom groaned. He wasn’t going to be able to forget her – the bright, curious eyes, her sweet laugh, or the way she gently teased him. So she destroyed a few pumpkins. So fucking what? He could grow more for next year. Missing the competition was a blow to his ego, but missing out on Cass would be fatal to his heart.
    He picked up a small pumpkin from the corner of the lot by the gate, mostly undamaged, and headed down to Cass’ house.
    Tom knocked.
    And waited.
    And knocked again.
    “I’m not going anywhere until you answer the door, Cass.”
    A long pause, and the door cracked open to reveal a very wary Cass still in her flannel shirt from the night before. Her hair was a mess and her eyes were red and swollen. She’d clearly been crying. She was beautiful.
    Solemnly, Tom held out the little pumpkin.
    Cass burst into tears again.
    Shit.
    Tom set the pumpkin on the porch and pulled Cass into his arms, letting her sob against his shirt. While she held tight and cried herself out, he noted the chaos inside – the house seemed to be having its own meltdown. He winced at the sound of breaking glass.
    “Sweetheart, you have to calm down. Your homeowners insurance probably doesn’t cover damage by witchcraft.”
    Cass muttered a watery chuckle and the noise level inside abated somewhat.
    “You shouldn’t be here, Tom. I blew up your pumpkins.”
    “Yes, you did. But you also blew my mind, so I figure it’s a fair trade.”
    “You don’t mean that.”
    Tom tilted her head up.
    “Look, everyone’s got their little eccentricities. I once dated a girl who thought that eating salad was murder. I can handle a little magic, Cass.”
    “But it