11. Your Favorite Drink
Your Favorite Drink
FERN APPLETON
Fern arrived at the bookstore at eight in the morning sharp on Saturday morning.
She had a full to-do list of projects that she needed to tackle if she had any hope of completing the store’s fall transformation in time.
Even with her best color-coded schedule of allotted time for each task, she worried it would not be possible.
As she unlocked the door and slipped into the shop with Bramble, she tried her best to keep her voice cheery. “Another busy day! It looks like I’ll need you to handle the register.”
“A do not have thumbs, little witchling of mine,” said her familiar matter-of-factly, raising one fluffy eyebrow.
“Of course. I know that,” Fern mumbled, biting her bottom lip. “I just meant that I’ll be too busy to handle the customers. You might need to help more than usual today, that’s all.”
Bramble raised his other eyebrow slowly. “I do not think that will be necessary.”
Before she could ask what he meant, the bell above the door jingled, letting Fern know that someone had stepped into Petals & Pages. She turned toward the door, automatically starting to say, “Oh, sorry, we’re not open yet!”
That was the exact moment her hazel eyes met the dark blue eyes of Sparrow Blackburne.
She froze, completely flabbergasted. Behind the dark-haired witch walked her twin, Lark.
They entered the bookstore as if they had been invited, carrying several steaming cups from Enchantresso and a paper bag that smelled like it contained baked goods.
Her mouth opened and closed as she stared at them, unable to form a coherent thought.
“Good morning, Fern! Bramble,” chirped Lark with a wide smile.
“I…g-good morning?” Fern managed to force out, glancing back and forth between them. “I’m sorry, what—what are you doing here?”
“We were told that you require our assistance with a few projects around the store this weekend,” Lark answered casually, as if it were no big deal.
“I don’t understand. How could you possibly know that I needed help?” she asked.
Her familiar gave her a satisfied grin. “Ah. That would be on me.”
“What did you do?” Fern hissed ferociously at him.
“You needed extra hands. And extra magic. I took care of it,” Bramble said simply.
“I am so sorry you went through all this trouble on a Saturday morning!” She turned anxious eyes on the lovely Blackburne twins. “That won’t be necessary. Thank you so much for offering!”
Embarrassment and shame swirled in her stomach, her face heating to a splotchy red she knew all too well.
All Fern wanted to do at that exact moment was bury her face in her hands and cry.
It is too mortifying for words, she thought in complete dismay.
I’m going to have very strong words with that cat!
To her surprise, Sparrow spoke up for the first time that morning. “It’s no trouble, little witch.”
Her hazel eyes grew wide at the genuine kindness in those few words.
The clever valedictorian of her class surely had better things to do with her weekend than spend it assisting Fern around the shop.
But those deep blue eyes stayed locked on hers as Sparrow Blackburne walked up to the counter and handed her a piping hot paper cup that smelled like fall incarnate.
“Cinnamon apple chai tea with just a splash of milk, right?” asked the older witch.
I must be dreaming, Fern thought, staring blankly at the Enchantresso cup in her hands. That’s it. I’m dreaming. This is a dream. This would never happen in real life. Get it together, Fern Appleton!
“Is that…not your favorite drink this time of year?” Sparrow hesitated, looking unexpectedly nervous. “I probably remembered your order wrong. Sorry.”
“N-no. I mean, yes. This is my favorite fall drink. I can’t believe you remembered that,” babbled Fern, pulling the paper cup to her lips and inhaling gratefully.
“Oh, good!” Giggled Lark Blackburne, her pretty red lips twitching up at both edges. “I got us all Nutella Pumpkin Muffins, I hope that’s okay! They’re my absolute favorite.”
Fern blinked at the other witch, completely caught off guard. “I love those, too.”
“Good! Breakfast then we can get to work,” commanded Lark with all the air of a princess.
That is how she found herself standing around the counter at the back of Petals & Pages, eating seasonal treats and sipping her favorite tea with the irresistible Blackburne twins. The ginger-haired witch chattered enough on her own that Fern and Sparrow hardly needed to say anything at all.
Yet it felt surprisingly comfortable. These stunning older witches who had always intimidated her during their school years were, in fact, quite friendly.
Well, Lark was friendly. Probably no one would label Sparrow as particularly friendly—yet her presence felt steady and reliable. Sort of how Fern felt about Bramble.
“What’s our first project of the day, dear Fern?” asked Lark as she touched up her lipstick.
“Oh! Um,” the younger witch hesitated. “The outside decorations are probably the most important thing on the list right now.”
“Great! You all usually have hay bales and a scarecrow and stuff, right?” Lark continued.
Fern nodded, her lavender bangs bouncing in front of her eyes. “That’s right. There are orange garlands and fall bunting and the biggest pumpkins we can get from the farm at the edge of town.”
“That sounds delightful!” Lark giggled. “Have you picked out your pumpkins yet?”
“No. Oh, no, is it too late? I bet all the good ones are gone by now,” said Fern, her anxiety spiking.
The ginger-haired witch patted her shoulder reassuringly. “Not at all! I love an excuse to go to the pumpkin patch, so how about Bramble and I head out to grab those?”
“T-that would be really helpful,” Fern replied, taking comfort in the other witch’s confident tone.
“It’s settled, then!” Lark smiled brightly at her. “Sparrow will help you with the outside decor while I pick up your pumpkins, and we’ll reconvene at lunch.”
Like a leaf on an autumn breeze, the witch floated away.
Likely the twins had a car parked at their apartment and she had gone to fetch it so they could haul the pumpkins back in one trip.
Suddenly, Fern found herself completely alone with the beautiful Sparrow Blackburne, who stared at her expectantly.
She swallowed hard, suddenly nervous. “The hay bales and scarecrows are stored in the shed out back. Follow me.”
Without a word, the dark-haired witch trailed behind Fern.
They walked through Petals & Pages and out the back door, to the storage shed her father had installed specifically for this purpose.
Too many years of dragging those large decorations from the cottage to the shop and back again had taken a toll on him as he had gotten older, and this had been a simple solution.
Now, as she reached for the string that turned on the single overhead lightbulb he had installed in the shed, Fern found herself entirely too aware of the warmth of the other witch behind her.
Sparrow peeked into the space, seeming to take account of the items they would need in a matter of moments.
Rather than gesture uselessly at the items she had clearly already located, Fern took this opportunity to observe the gorgeous witch up close.
Those deep blue eyes, surrounded by dark eyeliner, took in every detail of the cramped space as she assessed their next steps.
Her lashes were long and dark, the kind that surely cast a little shadow when she sat in the direct sunlight.
From this distance, Fern could make out the handful of freckles that dotted her pale skin—lighter than her sister’s, and fewer by far, but present all the same.
The twins seemed so vastly different in personality, and people always spoke of them as the light one and the dark one.
This close, though, she could sense no darkness rolling off the older witch at all.
The faint lingering smell of lavender and old books remained under the more recent cinnamon and nutmeg scent of her morning coffee.
A pumpkin spice latte, Fern thought, her lip quirking up at one side.
I’d have never guessed she liked such a popular drink.
The silence stretched on as she waited for Sparrow to say something.
The ruffles on the witch’s white shirt were close enough to reach out and touch.
Fern stared at the pretty brooch that held them in place—a black bat and a golden crescent moon.
The fitted vest she wore, more of a waistcoat really, had a simple black and gray plaid pattern that complimented her eclectic appearance.
Straight-legged trousers in all black trailed down her legs and led to a pair of chunky black heeled boots with little gold buckles at the ankle.
With the extra few inches the boots provided, Sparrow stood nearly a whole head taller than Fern.
She glanced back up at the witch, startled to find those blue eyes watching her in return.
She couldn’t be certain, but she swore Sparrow had been looking at her lips.
Fern nibbled on her lower lip, feeling particularly thankful that she had remembered to put on lip gloss that morning.
A nude shade that matched the natural pink of her lips with a glossy sheen that she always felt made her lips look like shiny apples.
A tic in Sparrow’s jaw was all the warning she got before the older witch reached one arm up and over Fern’s head.
Her hazel eyes blinked rapidly as she leaned back ever so slightly, unsure what to expect.
In this cramped space, with the pretty witch nearly caging her in between her arms and the shelves full of decor, Fern could hardly breathe.
Her heart stuttered as she looked at those kissable lips merely a breath away.
Today, Sparrow wore a deep burgundy lipstick that looked almost black in the low light of the storage unit.
Like a dangerous creature of the night, all red lips and sharp angles and domineering presence. Thump, thump, thump.