9. Jacks
Jacks
Earlier that day
Fates require little sleep. They could probably get by with no sleep at all, but then they would become even more unpleasant than usual.
Jacks always woke before Evangeline. He opened his eyes before the sun rose, when the world was dark and quiet and it felt as if he and Evangeline were the only two people who existed.
It was one of his favorite parts of the day.
In the bed, Evangeline slept with her back curled up against him and her palms pressed together in front of her, as if she were in prayer. She was too gentle for this world. Too gentle for him. But Jacks refused to let her go.
Now, he pulled her closer, holding her as tight as he could without hurting her, feeling every warm, soft inch of her body. Sometimes, he still couldn’t believe she was there with him.
He thought back to the first night he’d coaxed her into sharing a bed.
She had thought him delirious when he’d asked her to stay, and maybe he had been—but not in the way she had imagined.
He had believed that was the only night they could have together, and he wanted that memory, he wanted it with a desperation that probably would have kept her there even if she had refused him.
But she hadn’t. She’d stayed, and she was still choosing to stay with him.
She shifted against him in bed. “No more pies,” she murmured. “Too many pies…”
“But you love making pies,” Jacks whispered.
“I don’t love pies,” she mumbled. “I just love you…”
Jacks felt her snuggle closer. He smiled and pressed a slow kiss to her shoulder. “I love you too,” he whispered. Then he carefully removed his arms.
His movements were quiet as he eased out of bed, grabbed a linen shirt, and pulled on a pair of trousers. But as soon as he crossed the threshold, the floorboards creaked beneath his feet.
“Shh,” Jacks hissed. “She’s sleeping.”
The Hollow, of course, ignored him as it continued to groan awake, walls stretching, lights flickering on with a little too much fanfare. One of these days it was going to set itself on fire with its dramatics.
Jacks would have been content—or as content as he was capable of—to keep the Hollow as it had been for the last few months: private.
But the Hollow had always been a little needy.
It needed guests and it needed laughter, it needed stories being told by its fire.
But, more important than all of that, Evangeline wanted this inn reopened. She delighted in this place.
Jacks paused at one of the guest rooms that she’d readied the day before.
There were wildflowers by the bedside, along with a welcome note and a basket full of soaps with pressed flowers, embroidered towels, fluffy slippers, and treats tied up with pink bows.
She’d been unable to decide which treats guests would like most, so each room’s basket contained a different sweet.
Further proof the world didn’t deserve her and that he needed to protect her.
Evangeline also had the worst luck of any human Jacks had ever encountered. She was a magnet for disaster: vampires, evil stepsisters, curses, deranged princes, amnesia. The sooner he could make her a little less human, the better.
The clock struck Toast and Tea as Jacks strode into the tavern. The meal appeared on plates across the bar, and Jacks took a seat at the far end while one of the little dragons fetched his daily scandal sheet from the south along with the letter that Jacks had been waiting for.
The envelope was a deep, lurid green. The wax seal looked like liquid and was shaped like a goblet. Jacks lifted the seal and opened the letter. Poison’s penmanship was, as ever, dramatic.
Description
Description
Jacks was rereading the last paragraph, trying to figure out who Poison might have summoned, when he heard the most beautiful voice in the world. “Good morning, love!”
He looked up to find Evangeline lingering in the doorway to the tavern.
She looked like a smile in human form. White flowers dotted her pink hair, her apron was already tied over one of the hundred pastel dresses she had, and in her hands she held her precious Happy Innkeeper’s Guide to All Things Wonderful.
Jacks had spent years going through the Hollow’s library in search of that book.
But the Hollow must have known he’d probably put it to terrible use.
Unlike Evangeline—who had no idea what she actually held, and he did not plan on telling her.
Knowing the book’s true value and nature wouldn’t give her more joy.
If anything, she would probably be afraid to use it, and she loved using it.
“Are you ready for your big day tomorrow?” he drawled as he flicked his hand, dropping the letter on the closest little dragon, who dutifully set it aflame.
“Oh no! Bruce!” Evangeline cried.
Jacks made a show of scowling at the dragon while the letter continued to burn.
Then Evangeline was there, hastily dumping one of the cups of tea on the burning note, turning it into an amber pool of liquid and ash.
“Oh, Jacks! I’m so sorry.” She worried her lip between her teeth. And he felt a little guilty for letting her think it was all the dragon’s fault. “I hope it was nothing important.”
Jacks waved a hand dismissively. “It was just a bunch of words. Not anything that mattered.”
“Oh,” Evangeline said. But there was something about the way her mouth formed an O and her eyes flicked to the damaged letter that made him think she didn’t quite believe him.
Jacks tucked his fingers into the apron tied around her waist and pulled her closer to him.
Poison’s words came back to him: Forever is a long time.
And Jacks wanted forever with this girl.
He’d warned her that he was keeping her. After their first kiss, he’d told her, This isn’t just for now, it’s for always, Little Fox. Which is how he justified not telling her his plans. Not yet. He would tell her eventually. When she wasn’t fretting about reopening the Hollow.
But for now …
He kissed her. He tapped into the part of him that he tried to keep dormant.
The part of him that wasn’t human, that didn’t care about what she wanted or needed, but only what it wanted and needed.
And what it wanted and needed was her. The feel of her.
The taste of her. The way she gasped when he nipped her lips.
He felt her heart race as he deepened the kiss, and he knew that he couldn’t lose control. But he wanted to be sure that he’d properly distracted her from the letter and the fire. And he also just wanted her.
“Anything else I can help you with?” he murmured as he pulled away.
Her eyes were glazed and her lips were a bright bitten pink that made it clear there was no way she was still thinking about the letter. In fact, she couldn’t seem to think clearly at all.
If not for the rattling of the Hollow’s cupboards, she might have gone in for another kiss.
“LaLa will be here this afternoon.” She smiled at the mention of her friend but then a worry line creased her brow.
“Before she arrives, I just need to bake about two dozen more pies. Then I need to finish all the outdoor bunting. And then if there’s time, I was thinking I could put a fresh coat of paint on the clock. ”
“The clock doesn’t need a fresh coat of paint. But if you want, I’ll do it.”
The clock was in the entry, near the door. If Jacks spent the day painting, he’d alleviate some of her worry, and he’d be able to see whatever visitor Poison had sent and stop them from entering before Evangeline had any clue they were there.
At least that was the idea.
As Jacks painted, the clock ticked by meals and drinks and more meals and drinks, but Poison’s visitor didn’t come.
Jacks put on several fresh coats of paint, until finally he grew impatient with painting. He sauntered to the tavern doorway and watched Evangeline sprinkle icing sugar on a pie and whisper to her baby dragons.
She was always trying to get Jacks to like the little creatures, and he actually did. He just didn’t want her to know. It was far too fun teasing her about them. Teasing her might have been one of his favorite things.
“I still don’t know if you’ve made enough pies,” he drawled.
Evangeline twirled around. For a second, she mock-frowned, but then he saw real panic in her eyes. She cared so much.
The tavern was practically bursting with pies, and she was clutching her precious guide with knuckles that had gone white. “I suppose I could make a chocolate pumpkin pie. Or another chess—”
“I was only kidding,” Jacks quickly crossed the tavern and took the book from her white knuckle hands. “You have enough pies for all of Merrywood Village.”
“But what if no one comes?” she blurted.
“People will be here,” he promised.
Evangeline narrowed her eyes. “I don’t want anyone here because you used your magic on them.”
Jacks couldn’t help but smile.
“Don’t tell me you wouldn’t do that,” she said.
“Oh, I would absolutely love to do that. But as much as I enjoy ruining the lives of people who deserve it, no one is going to be here because of me.”
He guided her closer to the window and told her to stop worrying about the pies.
Jacks had grown up in the Hollow, but this was the first time since his parents had passed that it felt like home again.
Evangeline had reignited the Hollow’s magic. She didn’t see it, because she brought magic with her wherever she went. She didn’t know what it was like when she wasn’t there. The sun doesn’t know the night because it brings its own light. And to Jacks, Evangeline was the sun.
“This is all your magic, Little Fox.” He pressed a gentle kiss to her neck. She shivered and he pressed another kiss to the corner of her jaw and—
A gust of wind blew in through the open window, knocking it hard against the wall. Glass rattled. Dragons sparked. Kissing stopped. And a child appeared.