She hefted herself off the stool and hobbled to the door, throwing it open. “Bear, come now.”

And here came the accent again. Aunt Geillis must have put on the act for Saul, like she did for all people she didn’t know and wasn’t sure she liked. His long strides quickly ate up the distance between the bench and the greenhouse. For a moment, Maeve considered escaping out the back, only her mother hadn’t had a back exit installed so Maeve was trapped. Dammit.

Her aunt poked Saul with her cane, coming very close to his groin. Saul cupped his private parts to protect himself. Wise move. “You be good to her or I turn you to toad and make potion out of you.”

Yeah, her aunt was putting on the whole dog and pony show. Saul nodded eagerly, peering past her aunt to see inside the greenhouse. After a moment, her aunt stepped aside and Saul came in.

Maeve swallowed hard as he came down the center aisle to her bench. “Why are you here, Saul?”

“I’m here for you, Maeve.”

And with that, he destroyed her last barrier.

Saul heardthe quiet click of the greenhouse door as Maeve’s aunt or grandmother or whoever she was left them alone. He was grateful for that. He suspected he would need to do some persuading, and he didn’t want an audience for it, especially one who would not hesitate to transform him into something undesirable.

Maeve stared at him in shock, her eyes wide and uncertain. “It’s just the potion talking. The Duprees made a love potion. Well, not really a love potion. You can’t really create love from apotion. All you can do is create attraction, maybe lust. But love is something else.”

She really was quite adorable when she was nervous, his little mouse. But his bear hated she was skittish around him, as if she had reason to be afraid of him. He inhaled, sorting through all the varied scents in the greenhouse, seeking her underlying sweet essence, and there it was. Arousal. It was tentative, soft and almost hesitant, but it was there. He could build on that.

He leaned on the table, which was a little lower than he would have liked, but she was shorter than him and her comfort mattered. She started to lean back, then seemed to realize what she was doing and stopped.

“Why are you here, Saul?”

He hooked the stool with a foot and pulled it close with a squeal on the floor and sat down. “I told you, I’m here for you.”

Something scratched at his leg and he almost kicked out, but he paused and looked down, seeing a honey badger with wicked sharp claws staring up at him. “Who is this?”

Maeve smirked. “That’s Hazel, my familiar. She’ll gut you where you sit if you are mean to me.”

She continued to paw at him and he pulled out a honey stick from his pocket that he had been saving for a snack and handed it to her. She snatched it from him and raced away. He gave Maeve a smug look, and she sighed. “Of course, you know how to make friends with honey badgers.” She narrowed her gaze. “Why are you here?”

She was running away, backing away as fast as she could. He could work with that, as long as she wasn’t afraid. He didn’t sense fear, only confusion and annoyance. While his bear didn’t like those emotions, he could deal with them.

He settled himself more comfortably, though that was almost impossible since that stool was not meant for someone his size. “I want to talk about that kiss.”

She scowled at him and bent over the worktable, mixing herbs, her curly hair falling over her face, hiding her from him. “There’s nothing to discuss. I’ll be done with this antidote soon and we can forget all about it.”

He reached across the table and settled a hand over hers, engulfing her hand and half the bowl under his, stilling her movements. “I don’t need the antidote, Maeve. I drank three of those foul tasting potions and took one of those disgusting bezoars. I probably won’t be able to taste any of my baking for the next month. It’s not the potion. It’s my bear.”

She shook her head, not looking at him. “No, the Duprees did a love potion from their great-great-aunt’s grimoire. We don’t know if the BrewFest’s antidote will even work. But I have one that will. I hope. If only they would tell me the ingredients they used.”

He got up and walked around the table. He gently turned her and tilted her chin so she looked up at him. “Maeve. Mouse. You said it yourself. Love potions don’t create love. They only create a limited attraction. That kiss wasn’t from the potion.”

She blinked at him, confused. “Of course it was. What else could it be?”

He sighed. This was going to be harder than he thought. “Let’s try an experiment. You like those, right?”

“Does it involve more potion testing?”

He smiled at the apprehension in her tone. “Not exactly.”

Saul settled his lips over Maeve’s, swallowing her gasp of surprise. Her lips softened and his tongue swept inside, tasting the combined flavors of peppermint and lingering flavors of that weird-ass potion from the BrewFest.

Maeve's hands found their way to Saul's chest, clutching his green t-shirt in her fists, as if needing an anchor for herself. He slid his hands down her back and pulled her up against him, lifting her off the ground effortlessly, her body tight against his.Electricity arced between them, the connection as strong as he’d felt at the festival and his bear growled, mate.

Maeve moaned against him, her tongue tentatively stroking his, playing with him. She wanted him. She felt their bond, just like he did.

He lifted his head and looked down at her, at her dazed expression. “Spend the day with me. Tomorrow. Don’t think. Just say yes, Maeve.”