A Roar for Magic (Mystic Hollow #2)

Chapter 14

FOURTEEN

T hey shared a laugh, and Clover marveled at how easy this felt. How natural. Like they’d been walking garden paths together for years instead of hours.

A cool breeze stirred the trees, making her shiver slightly. Before she could even register the chill, Rook was shrugging out of his light jacket and draping it over her shoulders.

“I’m fine,” she protested, but the words faded as his scent surrounded her, warm and spicy and distinctly him.

“Humor me.” His hands lingered on her shoulders. “It’s a tiger thing.”

“Taking care of cold witches?”

“Taking care of you.”

The simple statement delivered with such quiet certainty made her breath catch. She looked up to find his gaze holding that soul-deep intensity that seemed to see right through all her careful defenses.

“Rook...”

“Too much?” His voice carried a hint of vulnerability. “I know I can be... intense. Banner reminds me daily, usually with elaborate eye-rolling.”

A laugh bubbled up before she could stop it. “You, intense? Never.”

“Says the witch whose magic keeps reaching for mine every time I’m near.” His smile turned tender. “I noticed, you know, how everything in your shop seems to lean toward me whenever I visit.”

“That’s just... they’re magical items. They’re naturally curious about new people.”

“Mh-mmm.” His hand found hers, fingers intertwining naturally. “And I suppose it’s also completely normal for your magic to spark like this?” He lifted their joined hands, where golden threads of energy danced between them.

“You’re impossible.” But she didn’t pull away.

“Part of my charm.”

They wandered deeper into the gardens where enchanted roses bloomed in impossible colors and fountain sprites played hide-and-seek among the water jets. The night had turned magical in that peculiar way that sometimes happened in Mystic Hollow, where reality softened at the edges and anything seemed possible.

Somewhere in the distance, music and laughter from the picnic drifted on the evening breeze. But here, in their private garden bubble, time seemed to slow.

“Clover.” Her name carried the weight of unspoken things. “I’d very much like to kiss you. But if you’re not ready for this to be a real date, if you need more time to?—”

She rose on her tiptoes and pressed her lips to his.

For a moment, he froze. Then his arms wrapped around her, pulling her flush against him as he deepened the kiss. Her magic surged joyfully, meeting his in a cascade of sparks that made the fountain sprites cheer and the nearby flowers burst into sudden bloom.

When they finally parted, slightly breathless, the fairy lights had gathered around them in a glowing corona that reflected the golden threads of magic still dancing between them.

“So,” Rook said, his voice rough with emotion, “about those contract negotiations...”

Clover laughed, burying her face in his chest. “You’re terrible.”

“You like it.”

“Maybe.” She smiled up at him. “But I’m still going to make you work for it.”

His answering grin was pure trouble. “Challenge accepted, little witch.”

Above them, a shooting star streaked across the sky, leaving a trail of magical sparks. The fountain sprites had started singing something that sounded suspiciously like a love song. And Clover...

Clover decided that maybe, just maybe, real dates weren’t so bad after all.

Especially with tigers who definitely weren’t becoming increasingly impossible to resist.

Even if she knew she’d never hear the end of it from Poe.