Chapter 5
The Greenhouse is an Option…
“Rowan,” I gasp, my hands clutching his back, pulling him closer. “I’m glowing. You need to…” I moan against his mouth, lost to his sweet assault. “Oh, stars. You need to cloak us.”
“No.” Breathing hard, he breaks the kiss and firmly places his hands on my shoulders, as if he can’t decide whether he wants to set me back or keep me close. “We shouldn’t do this. I got carried away.”
I cross my arms, glaring at him. “Your rules are stupid, and I don’t like them.”
He barks out a laugh. Taking a purposeful step back, he scrubs his hands over his face. “The bond is going to be the death of me.”
“Is it affecting you?” I ask. “Are you having trouble staying in control?”
Slowly, Rowan lowers his hands, his eyes meeting mine in the dark. “I’m struggling. Our fused magic is reckless and demanding, and I fear it’s stronger than I am.”
“It sounds like a formidable opponent.” I fight my smile. “I say we surrender.”
He laughs again, but it’s strained this time. “Your parents are just inside the cottage.”
Rowan’s right. For that reason alone, we can’t do this—not right now.
“The hotel is really nice,” I say. “Maybe they could stay there?”
A grin ghosts across Rowan’s face before he schools it. “This is for the best. If they weren’t here, limiting our physical relationship would be far more difficult.”
“We talked about this. There’s no reason that we can’t—”
“Three months.” He brushes his hand down my arm. “Please, Kit. Let me at least attempt to do this right, otherwise I’ll hate myself when this is over. I know I keep stumbling, but I have to try.”
How am I supposed to argue with that?
“Yeah, okay,” I sigh.
“Go inside. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
I agree, but I’m not happy.
Rowan turns toward the horse and then pauses, glancing back over his shoulder. The clouds shift, revealing the bright moon, casting him in silver light. He looks so handsome; I want to commit the moment to memory.
“Stop,” he says affectionately.
I quite literally have done nothing but stand here. “Stop what?”
Turning back, he closes the distance between us, slides his hand under my curls, and kisses me softly. “Being adorable.”
I smile against his lips. “Your willpower might be flimsier than mine. I really like that about you.”
He laughs as he releases me, shaking his head. “Go before we end up making out in the greenhouse.”
“Now there’s an idea—”
“Go,” he laughs.
“I’m going.” Grinning, I hurry toward the house, pausing at the door to give my sparkles time to subside.
When I’m sure it’s safe, I step inside and find three sets of eyes on me. Mom lowers her dainty cup of hot chocolate onto the saucer expectantly. Dad frowns.
“That took a while,” Nadine says innocently, her lips twitching. “Did Rowan have trouble finding his horse? We thought we were going to have to form a search party.”
“It’s getting late,” I say, embarrassed. “I think I’m going to head to bed. Are you all set?”
“We made the guestroom bed,” Mom answers. “And we found extra blankets so Nadine can sleep on the couch.”
“Okay, great.” I hightail it down the hall, cheeks red. “See you all in the morning.”
Dad comes into the tea shop from the back garden and says, “Well, no doubt about it, you have gnomes.”
Even though I was already very aware of that, my stomach sinks.
He continues, “Right now, we’re looking at three families, maybe—”
“Three families?” I gasp. “Already?”
We haven’t opened for the day, so it’s just the three of us in the tea shop. Rowan is currently upstairs, on a call with our tea supplier in Taiwan.
Dad continues, “To be honest, I’m surprised they crossed the street to get here. It’s always busy.”
“I suspect they must be moving at night.”
“Let’s hope so.”
“Why do you think they want to be in the tea garden so badly?”
He shakes his head, flummoxed. “They love flowering bushes, and Laverna planted a whole slew of them, but I don’t think that would be enough of a draw.” Dad sits on a stool across the counter from me. “Maybe it’s your magic. I suspect you’ve been using a fair amount of it since you’ve been here.”
My magic has been all over the place since I arrived in Moss Hollow. If I’m not glowing or spreading summer joy, I’m calling in thunderstorms and sending tourists running. A “fair amount” is probably a modest estimation.
“I’ve been a little unstable,” I admit.
“They’re drawn to pixie magic—our summer magic in particular. But I don’t know. It doesn’t seem like enough. You don’t have any foxgloves or ferns. The trees aren’t even hollow—they had to drill holes in them themselves.”
“They’re drilling holes in my trees?” I demand.
“And Laverna’s magic never lured them in,” he muses instead of answering me.
“Then why would mine?”
He rubs his chin, thinking. “Laverna was in a stable place in her life. When we’re young, our emotions can be…bigger, I suppose. And our magic is tied so closely to our feelings. Happiness, disappointment, fear…all will create a spike that I suppose could be appealing to them.”
“I’ve been a little homesick, too.” I admit.
He offers me a sympathetic smile. “Called a few storms?”
“A few a week.”
He laughs, his magic bright and happy. “All right, here’s the plan. We’re going to try a simple lure first—not an official relocation, since you don’t want to get the Preservation Society involved.”
“What are you thinking?”
“We can try to move them to a remote place in the woods, but the easiest solution, and the one I predict will be the most successful, is coaxing them to relocate to the cottage. I suspect they’ll end up back here within a few months if we move them away from your magic.”
“My backyard? Is that an option?”
“Certainly, unless you plan on entertaining humans regularly?”
“I have no plans for that.”
He smiles. “All right, then. Go ahead and keep the tea garden closed for now—you don’t want anyone stumbling across them. I’ll begin prepping a new plot in your backyard. Do you care where?”
“Not really. Just…do your thing.”
“I’ll need to make a whole passel of chocolate almonds,” he says absently. “And nasturtiums, because they love them. It’s a little late to plant seeds. Hopefully, the garden center has seedlings. Nasturtiums hate to be transplanted, though. Poor things. I might have to go with marigolds.”
“You don’t buy the almonds anymore?”
“They seem to like homemade best.”
“Who wouldn’t?”
He nods, standing. “It’s a nice morning, and I fancy a walk. I’m going to go see what your mother is up to and get started.”
“Would you like a cup of tea to go?”
“I would, yes.” He nods toward the pastry case. “And maybe one of those turnover things there.”
I glance towards the door. “Those are yesterday’s. Ryder should be here with the new order any minute now.”
“I don’t mind finishing up some of the old lot.”
“Help yourself.” I fill the electric kettle with water. “What kind of tea would you like?”
“Just a nice black one. Something that can stand up to a little cream.”
I pull Ash’s favorite Irish breakfast off the shelf and set the kettle to boil. I’m just pouring the hot water into the infuser when there’s a knock at the door.
Ryder waves through the glass, holding up the pastry box in his free hand. I smile at the handsome elf, happy to see him.
Dad must notice my summer magic because he glances over with a thoughtful look on his face.
“That’s Ryder,” I say. “He works at the bakery.”
“Ah.”
I open the door, welcoming the elf inside. “I was just thinking about you.”
His eyebrows shoot up. “Were you now?”
I nod to the box, grinning. “Yes—because you’re late.”
He clucks his tongue as if disappointed. “Get a man’s hopes up, why don’t you?”
I laugh and turn toward my dad. “Ryder, this is my father.”
Looking just as embarrassed as I hoped he would, Ryder laughs, self-conscious of his shameless flirting. “Good morning, Mr. Merriweather. I’m sorry, I didn’t see you over there.”
Dad smiles and crosses the room, extending his hand. “Good morning. What was your name again?”
“Ryder Thimbleberry.”
“It’s good to meet you, Ryder.” He shakes the elf’s hand heartily. “You and Kit seem like you’ve become fast friends.”
That’s a weird way to phrase it, but Ryder doesn’t seem to notice.
“We’re glad to have your daughter in Moss Hollow, sir. She is a much-needed ray of sunshine.”
Dad beams. “Yes, she is.”
I frown as I take the pastry box from Ryder, feeling like something is a little off. “Thank you for bringing these by. I forgot to write the check this morning. Do you want to wait a moment, or should I swing by later today?”
“Come by after we close.” Ryder starts for the door. “I have a few new recipes I’ve been working on, and I need a guinea pig.”
“Happy to help,” I joke, not about to turn down free pastries.
Ryder turns back to my dad. “Again, sir, it was a pleasure to meet you. I’m sure I’ll see you again soon.”
“Nice to meet you, too.” Dad nods. “Have a good day, son.”
Son?
“Want me to lock the door, Kit?” Ryder asks as he steps out.
“No, you can leave it. It’s time for me to open, anyway.”
As soon as we’re alone, Dad sighs as if supremely happy. “What a nice young man.”
“Yeah… Ryder’s great.”
He walks back to his tea. “I imagine he knows better than to take advantage of a nice girl’s living situation.”
Oh my word.
“Dad!” I exclaim, glancing toward the ceiling, doubting Rowan heard but not entirely certain.
Mock innocent, Dad looks back at me. “What?”
I lower my voice. “Rowan was an owl while he lived at the cottage. It was nothing. And besides, he lived there first. If anything, I am to blame. I invaded his home.”
“I don’t care about the circumstances. I don’t like it.”
Sighing, I say, “Dad…you do realize I’m twenty-six years old, don’t you?”
He gives me as stern a scowl as he is capable of. “Don’t start that human logic on me, young lady.”
I roll my eyes, laughing because this is ridiculous, and go back to the task of preparing his tea. As I pull the infuser out of the cup, I say, “Listen, you’re probably not going to want to hear this, but I was glad Rowan was around. The cottage was new and lonely, and I hated being by myself.
“Sure, I was a little freaked out at first. He was a stranger. But Laverna loved him. You always spoke so fondly of her. If you can’t trust my judgment, can’t you trust hers?”
“I had great affection for my aunt, but it’s clear that she wasn’t mentally stable toward the end.
That’s the only explanation for her writing a person into her will and then saddling you with his care.
” He huffs. “And I’m sorry, I know you like him, but I don’t think I can trust a mage who took advantage of that sort of situation. I tried to get past it, I tried.”
“Well, try harder.” My hand trembles as I set the infuser aside. “Because Rowan is important to me.”
“Kit—”
“I told him you were kind and welcoming!” I exclaim at a whisper. “You don’t think he’s self-conscious about the situation? Of course he is. But we told you the truth. We didn’t lie—and we could have. I could have said Laverna’s stupid owl flew away. Or that we…ate him or something.”
Tears spring to my eyes, and I blink them back, feeling stupid and emotional and hating it.
Dad laughs carefully, sounding concerned now. “People don’t generally eat owls.”
I yank a paper towel from the holder and dab the edges of my eyes. “You get the point.”
Dad studies me, sighing heavily. We don’t argue. We never have. Our disagreements are civil or avoided altogether.
“Okay,” he finally says, his voice heavy. “I’ll try harder.”
A small sob escapes me, and a gust of wind beats against the tea shop windows, carrying moisture.
“You called a storm,” Dad says.
“Me?” I eye him, blinking quickly. “I think you helped this time.”
He presses his mouth into a firm line before he admits, “Maybe.”
Silence blankets the air, highly uncomfortable.
“Your tea is done,” I finally say.
“Oh, okay.” He accepts the cup. “Thank you.”
Just so I’ll have something to do, I begin filling the glass case with the new pastries. “You’ll be nice to Rowan, won’t you?”
“I’ll be nice.” He glances over his shoulder when a human couple walks into the shop and then drops his voice to a whisper. “I should let you get to work.”
“Okay.”
He takes his tea and his half-eaten turnover. “Have a good day. I’ll see you this evening.”
“Love you.”
“Love you, too.”
The couple walks up to the counter and frowns at the sign. “Do you have coffee?”
“Sorry, no. Just tea.”
Disappointed, they leave.
Rowan emerges from the back as soon as they’re gone. One look at him tells me he heard everything my father and I were discussing.
“Rowan—”
“It’s okay,” he says heavily. “I wouldn’t like me if I were in his position either. Honestly, it could have been worse.”
“How?”
He gives me a wry look. “You could have told him about the bond.”
I shudder at the idea. “Eventually, we’ll have to confess. But today is not that day. In fact, I plan to put that off until—”
“There’s a ring on your finger?” He lifts a brow, his eyes bright and mischievous.
My heart leaps at his casual mention of marriage. But then it slowly falls, like a balloon with a slow leak, because I realize I won’t be the first woman to wear his ring. Keira was before me. She planned their wedding and picked out the flowers. She bought a dress. Hired a caterer. Ordered a cake.
And the idea of it is worse now because I can picture it. It’s all too easy to imagine them together now that I know what she looks like. Two beautiful people dressed in black and white, ready to exchange vows.
Another gust of wind blows against the window.
Rowan’s forehead knits. “I lost you somewhere.”
“I thought about Keira,” I admit quietly.
He grimaces, looking like he’d like to call a storm, too. “I’m sorry.”
Thankfully, the door opens, saving us from continuing the conversation.
Reluctantly, Rowan pulls his gaze from my face. “Morning, Dorian,” he calls to the massive dragon shifter who just walked through the door, his voice heavier than usual.
Happy to let Rowan help the man who knows far more about tea than I do, I begin to walk away. Before I get far, Rowan reaches for me.
I look back to see what he needs, but he’s focused on Dorian. He squeezes my hand before letting me go. The gesture is quietly affectionate, professionally hidden behind the counter.
Very sweet.
I remind myself that it doesn’t matter that Keira probably practiced writing her name with Neilfellow at the end, or that she sent out wedding invitations with her and Rowan smiling from their polished engagement photos. All that matters is who stands the test of time.
And I fully intend to be Rowan’s forever.