Chapter 1 #2
I edged away from a carved pumpkin, leaned against one of the floor-to-ceiling bookshelves, and closed my eyes, focusing on my fae magic to calm me.
Unlike my sisters’ magic that they had to activate, mine was always on, and it wasn’t nearly as exciting.
Dad called it “Breath of Balance” when he wanted it to sound cool, but really, all it did was give me better balance, physically and emotionally.
Which was exactly as boring as it sounded.
My fae magic tugged my attention toward a book on a top shelf leaning at a haphazard angle.
It was like a tingle running down my fingers or like an itch I couldn’t scratch.
I reached up, my fingers brushing against the book, and it slid to the side.
A few other books on the top shelf tumbled around me, and I threw my hands up to protect my head.
“Look out,” a deep voice said before a pair of strong arms appeared on either side, while someone’s chest pressed against my back from behind.
Books clattered to the floor around me and my mysterious rescuer.
His arms cocooned me in warmth, and my nose filled with his unique scent.
He smelled like coffee and the crackling fire. And something else. Cloves?
I flushed. So much for balancing the shelf. I’d just made a mess of everything and embarrassed myself. And what was I doing smelling my rescuer?
“Thank y—” I turned around and glanced up, meeting a pair of intense brown eyes.
For a moment, it was like the shop slipped away, like the snap of the fire and the rustling of pages were trapped in the man’s dark gaze as easily as I was. He tilted his head, studying me as if trying to memorize me.
“You okay?” he murmured, his voice warm and low against my ear.
“Y-yeah.” I winced at how breathless I sounded. “Are you?”
“I’ve been worse.” The man stepped back and rubbed his head, though he still stood close enough for me to feel the heat emanating from him.
He bent and retrieved one of the fallen books—The Priory of the Orange Tree.
He studied the tower and dragon on the cover, one corner of his mouth tilting up in an uneven smile before handing it to me.
“Somehow I have a feeling that’s not what people mean when they mention heavy reading. ”
“Probably not.” I held it to my chest, unsure what to do with it since I didn’t dare try to straighten the shelf again after my last disastrous attempt. Besides, the magic in the shop was already at work again, and the books rose into the air.
The man raised an eyebrow. “Nifty magic.”
I nodded, unsure what to say, then turned to go. “Well, thanks again.”
“Wait.” He put a hand on my shoulder, and a shock went through me at his soft touch. “You’re Lizzy’s sister, aren’t you?”
“Yes.” Of course people knew me as Lizzy’s sister.
I was always somebody’s sister, never able to stand out on my own.
Lizzy was witty and independent. Jane was sweet and beautiful.
Mary was smart and religious, and Lydia was popular and determined.
Mary said she struggled with fitting in, but I fit in so well, I was practically unnoticed.
All I wanted to do was stand out and not just be “one of the five Bennet girls.”
“I’m Riley.” The man stuck out his hand, his rolled-up sleeves revealing toned forearms.
“Oh, you’re Lizzy’s friend from the newspaper.” Riley was the only one from the Sanditon Chronicle that she ever mentioned by name, and I was pretty sure he’d given her a few leads for stories before, like when Charles Bingley and his group had come to town a while back.
“So she’s mentioned me?” He raised an eyebrow, and the corner of his mouth pulled up as if the two were attached. “Brilliant.”
His immediate smile at the mention of my sister and the way his eyes lit up proved a theory I’d had the last few months—he probably had a thing for Lizzy.
Belatedly, I shook his hand, which was warm and large. I pulled mine back and dropped it to my side. “I’m Katherine, but my friends call me Kitty.”
“You’re the second youngest, right?”
“Right.” So he’d heard of me too.
“But you’re not the one who played those terrible love songs on the piano at the Bingley’s party a few weeks ago?” He gave me a teasing grin.
I flushed with secondhand embarrassment. Even though Mary had later explained the reason behind her performance and I admired her for protecting Frank, it didn’t change the fact that she wasn’t any better of a singer than I was. “No, that was another sister.”
Riley’s grin grew into a smirk. “You Bennets keep the town on its toes, don’t you?”
“I guess so.”
“So what do I get to call you?”
“What?”
“You said that friends call you Kitty, so I was wondering what I should call you.”
My flush deepened, though I wasn’t sure why. “You can call me Kitty too.”
Riley looked around the shop. Was he waiting for someone? Although he’d come to a bookshop, he seemed more interested in the people than the books. Was he here for work?
“Kitty?” a new voice interjected.
Graham.
I stepped away from Riley and glanced at Graham, taking in his dark gray T-shirt, faded blue jeans, and messenger bag. All the old butterflies from seeing him were gone, swept up in my determination—or maybe swept up in Riley’s proximity.
Graham surveyed us with wide eyes. “What happened?”
“I accidentally knocked a bunch of books over, and Lizzy’s friend protected me.
” I took another step away from Riley. Even though I could still sense the gentle warmth of my fae power at work, being around Riley left me unsettled, like the time I’d brewed my first potion and wasn’t sure if I was more scared of succeeding or failing. “Thanks for your help,” I told Riley.
“Well, maybe I’ll see you around again, Kitty.” He said my name like it was an unexpected treasure, something small but worth lingering over. With one more long look, he sauntered off, still glancing around the store.
I shook my head to clear my thoughts and turned to Graham, carefully cradling the napkin with the veritas potion-laced cookie. “Hey.”
“Hey.” He glanced down at his bag, then back up at me. “I’m surprised to see you here.”
I tightened my grip on the napkin. “I was in the area and thought I’d stop by.”
“So who was that?” Graham tilted his head toward the direction Riley had gone.
“Oh, no one.” I fought to keep the blush from my cheeks.
Graham’s eyes narrowed slightly. “It didn’t look like no one.”
“We just ran into each other. It’s my sister’s friend from work.”
Wait a second, was Graham jealous? If he was, it was too little too late. I didn’t need feelings from him, just the truth.
I thrust the cookie toward him. “I wanted to give this to you.” The words came out too blunt, and I winced. Running into Riley had stolen whatever smoothness or hint of a plan I might’ve had.
Graham blinked and stared at the cookie for one long, horrible moment, as if he could sense the veritas potion hidden inside.
My heart pounded a painful staccato in my chest, refusing to be comforted by the smell of vanilla, butter, and sugar.
Was he not going to take it? I should’ve known it would be too weird to bring him something like this so suddenly considering he knew I worked at a bakery that sold magical treats.
Maybe that was for the best. My nerves were twisted tighter than a potion bottle with a jammed cork.
“Nevermind.” I pulled the cookie back.
“Wait, I want it.” He snatched it off the napkin. “I’ll eat it when I have a moment. I’m running a bit late today, but that was nice of you.”
I nodded and took a step back. “I’ll get out of your hair so I’m not in the way.”
“You’re leaving already?”
“Yeah, I should get back. I have a shift today too, plus some homework I need to do.”
Graham took a step closer. “You were always so studious.”
I chewed on the inside of my lip. Was that a compliment? Half the time Graham had bragged about dating a smart girl, but the other half he’d complained I was too busy for him.
But either way, it didn’t matter. It was time to wrap things up and move on with my life.
So why did it feel like things were just getting started?
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