CHAPTER 18
BLANCHETTE
Under my lashes, I watched Jonathan order coffee and cardamom buns at the wood block counter while I held down the table tucked against the bay window.
It overlooked an ivy-covered red brick wall of an artist’s gallery opposite the small coffee shop, a row of multicolored pots filled with flowers and shrubbery lining the pathway.
Like veins in a body, Everwick was comprised of hidden, winding alleyways that branched off the spine of the main road, which cut straight through the town, ending at the sea.
Growing up, I had fond memories of exploring the different pathways, whether alone or with friends.
Some led to little alcoves, a stone bench waiting at the end for a quiet, peaceful moment.
Others led to courtyards, surrounded by pop-up art galleries or artisan jam shops or fresh-cut flower stalls.
Others would act as shortcuts across blocks, a network that only locals would know to escape the bustle of tourists from the city on weekends or during summer.
Sometimes, however, the alleyways seemed to change, so most knew to use familiar markers to keep their path.
One of my favorite alleys was just next to Tales & Tomes, a small bookshop that one of my grandmother’s neighbors, Edward Spire, used to own.
I’d browse through the stacks of books, the smell of fresh parchment and coffee permanently branded in my mind, before slipping out the door with my newest purchase and down the alley that separated Tales & Tomes and the real estate office next to it.
At the end of the alley lay an arched wooden door, the rounded handle a tarnished brass.
Most didn’t know it was open to the public, and so, often, it was empty.
My prized reading spot I’d only told my grandmother about.
Behind the door was a shaded garden that reminded me of a forest. A Gloamdrop tree grew tall and strong, its shadowy trunk laden with dark, fragrant moss, its branches drooping under cascades of violet-blue blossoms that shimmered as though lit by hidden light.
Once, a fountain had trickled in the corner of the small courtyard and wild crawling roses had spiraled up tall oil lamps.
A chipped statue of a mermaid, the scales of her tail sparkling with inlaid opal, sat next to a curved bench.
There it felt like Everwick fell away and the world went quiet.
Now sitting in an unfamiliar coffee shop, I wondered if that alleyway was still there…or if it’d been closed off by the new owner when Edward had sold it off in his retirement.
The pretty fox-shifter cashier beamed up at Jonathan, though he was seemingly oblivious to her glittering eyes and flirtatious smile as he rummaged for his card in a black leather wallet.
My gaze ran over the soft T-shirt that clung to his strong back, the ripples of muscles, honed by hours of laboring on his cabins, evident beneath the material.
The jeans he had on were a perfect fit, cupping a firm backside, giving way to strong thighs and—
My stomach gave a little swirl when he looked over his shoulder at me, only to find me—blatantly—checking him out.
Cheeks burning, I fought off an embarrassed chuckle and looked out the bay window, but not before I caught the flash of his smirk.
He was a handsome man, and I had the thought that if I’d ever passed him on the streets of Graymore, I might do a double take.
The cashier wasn’t immune either. It made me wonder when he’d last dated anyone.
If maybe he had a string of ex-girlfriends in town.
Judging from his comment last night, two bottles deep in elven wine, about not having sex, I guessed it might’ve been a while.
If Megan were here, and if it had been anyone else but the Jonathan Wolfe, she would’ve already suggested he and I end our celibacy streaks with each other. And she would’ve been quite serious.
My face still felt warm by the time Jonathan strode over to the round table I’d snagged.
“I remembered you take it black,” he commented as he set down a ceramic blue mug filled with coffee, “but I can ask for more cream if you prefer.”
“This is good—thank you,” I replied, smiling as he slid into the seat across from me.
He plopped three sugar cubes into his own coffee in succession, pointedly. I shrugged.
“I always imagined you’d be a black-coffee kind of guy,” I replied, lips twitching as I leaned forward. His eyes flicked to my mouth as I took a small sip of the steaming brew, and I was proud when I didn’t choke. “In addition to being funny, you’re just full of surprises, aren’t you?”
He made a face, one of mock exasperation. “I was a ‘black-coffee kind of guy,’ but after Graymore…I’ve just had enough bitter things in my life. Don’t have the stomach for it anymore,” he said. As if to prove his point, he added one more sugar cube before stirring his coffee with finality.
A moment later, I noticed the cashier had slipped out from behind her station, whispering to the dryad server girl in the corner.
They exchanged a quick glance, and the server reluctantly handed over her tray.
My lips twitched. She was supposed to stay behind the counter, but she’d clearly switched roles just for another excuse to approach Jonathan.
Sure enough, the fox-girl cashier appeared at our table, balancing the tray with a little flourish.
She deposited a small glass pot of cream along with our steaming cardamom buns, which smelled divine.
Her tail, kept neatly tucked away but not well enough to hide, flicked playfully behind her as she threw Jonathan a beaming smile.
“Let me know if you need anything else,” she told him, lingering a little before she retreated.
The dryad server shot her a disapproving look from the corner, and I caught myself smirking. Apparently I wasn’t the only one who’d noticed her little performance.
“Someone likes you,” I commented softly, taking another sip of coffee.
“How can you tell?” he asked, dumping in the entire cream pot until his coffee turned nearly white.
“Mmm…a smile that could rival the brightness and radiance of Moonbeam Lighthouse on a stormy night?” I commented.
He shook his head, a grin appearing. “Poetic.”
“That was a dead giveaway.”
He leaned forward in his chair, regarding me over the small vase of dried flowers in the center of the wooden table. “Or maybe the way she completely ignored you?” he suggested with a raised brow.
“Like I didn’t even exist,” I told him with a short laugh. “You’re probably used to it. I’m sure you get it around town all the time.”
He didn’t say anything in reply.
“Not even going to try to deny it?” I asked, enjoying the way his eyes sharpened on me. “Wow, it must be worse than I thought.”
“It’s not that. It’s just…” he started, running a hand through his thick dark hair, flicking his gaze out the window before it resettled on me. I felt the weight of that gaze as he said, “No one’s ever tempted me enough to pursue them. Well…till recently.”
My heart gave a shallow little skip. I swallowed hard. “Oh?” I asked, but it sounded like a throaty croak.
His lip curled. It was almost mischievous. He took a sip of his too-sweet coffee and then said, “In town, it’s just easier to ignore it. Then I don’t have to be the jerk who turns them down.”
“Don’t you ever get lonely up in those woods?” I asked softly.
“I keep busy,” he replied. I was surprised by the honesty in his voice when he added, “On purpose.”
It reminded me of May’s words the day I’d left Juniper Hollow after my fight with Jonathan.
Part of me knows he’s hidin’ away here in the woods. I just worry he’ll hide the rest of his life away, she’d said.
The more time I spent with him…the more I wanted to uncover. Was it just about what had happened in Graymore? Or was it something else?
“The endless to-do list certainly helps,” he added, reminding me of last night’s tipsy conversation.
A night that had been filled with golden candlelight and good food and loosened tongues.
He must’ve known what I was thinking of because he said, “I had a good time last night. I’m glad you decided to come back. ”
Suddenly I grew a little shy at the words.
“Me too,” I said softly.
Then, in the brief silence that came after, I bit into my cardamom bun. An explosion of warm spice mixed with a delicate sweetness. The brown butter glazed on top added a perfect nuttiness. “Oh my gods, you have to try this.”
Jonathan chuckled, dragging his plate closer. “I already know. Why do you think I brought you here?
“I need about ten more of these.”
“You sure you’ll have room for oysters after?” he reminded me, amused.
Right. What had begun as Jonathan asking me if I wanted to join him on a trip to town this morning—partly because he had to pick up groceries that May had ordered for the Hollow—had devolved into…something that was feeling more and more like a date.
Earlier, as we’d been walking to the coffee shop, I’d merely mentioned how much I’d missed the Vellamara oysters from last night.
And so, I was surprised—and delighted—when he’d suggested we get them later at the stall by the sea when it opened at three.
I certainly didn’t mind, but I knew Jonathan had a lot to do back at the Hollow.
However, judging from the way Jonathan’s shoulders were relaxed and by the heart-skipping grin that spread across his handsome face after he took his first bite of the cardamom bun…he didn’t mind either.
I was breathing hard, the muscles in my legs burning.
“You can do it, Red,” came Jonathan’s deep voice above me. “Just a little bit more.”
“We should not…have gotten…that second…bun,” I gasped, cramping up. I groaned.
His gruff chuckle echoed. Damn him for not even sounding a little out of breath. “It was worth it.”
“Maybe,” I panted, “for you.”
Jonathan reached the top of the stairs before me, and I heard the creak of the rusty door as it opened, bright light flooding the inside of Moonbeam Point Lighthouse.