Page 38 of Brewing Up a Bad Boy

“How could you? You are totally entitled to your feelings,” he said.

“I know, and you totally were being that when I posted. I think you wanted me to negotiate to keep my great-grandmother’s tea service.”

Yeah, not the man he wanted her to see. “I don’t like losing.”

“Believe me, I know,” she said. “So this place is close to town, and then are we taking the bike to the parking lot at the Tor or walking from town?”

“Either one. It’s a nice day, so a walk wouldn’t be bad,” he said.

She smiled as he used a code to unlock the Airbnb. They had sent their luggage on to the wedding’s hotel and just packed in two backpacks for this overnight trip. He grabbed them from the storage compartment on the bike as Poppy went inside to explore.

Taking a moment for himself, he leaned against the side of the house, in the shade, and put his head back.

He was so close to getting everything he wanted. Receiving Poppy’s understanding... Her suggestion that they put the past to bed had been more than he thought he deserved. But there was still the meeting with his parents, the contract with Lancaster-Spencer and Owen’s offer to come and work at the tavern for the summer.

All things that were tied to the woman who was singing “Flowers” off-key while she opened the windows.

It hadn’t even occurred to him that she’d actually be back in England with him despite his hope she would.

His therapist had suggested that maybe anger had burned all the charm out of him.

It felt uncomfortable, the prospect of being who his parents and brother expected him to be at this wedding. It felt like sliding into a suit that was too tight. He couldn’t move his shoulders, and the shoes pinched.

“You okay?” she asked from the doorway.

“Yeah. Just need to stand and stretch a bit after the ride,” he said.

“Me too. I found a recommendation for a couple of restaurants in town. Want me to book one for a late lunch? That will give us time to check out a fewwoo-wooshops in town.”

“I’m sorry I said that.”

She nodded. “I’m teasing you. One of the shops sells some of our products, so I’m meeting the owner around three. I can meet back up with you after that for dinner.”

Solange Trenton felt like a kindred spirit the moment that Poppy walked into her shop. She had a table of WiCKed Sisters’ products, which included a selection of handmade journals that Sera had sent over with instructions on how to embed the purchaser’s intention into the cover; crystals and a tarot card deck that Liberty had charged and designed; and the Amber Rapp Heartbreak Remedy tea that Poppy had made after listening to “Rhapsody for an Ex.”

“I’m so excited you are here!” Solange said. Her long red hair hung down her back, and she wore a flower wreath on top of her head that Poppy immediately loved. Her bracelets jingled as she ran around the counter and hugged Poppy.

“Me too. Thanks for welcoming me on such short notice.”

“I’m glad you were able to get here. I’m hoping to get to Birch Lake in the autumn for the real-life experience.”

“Let me know when you’re coming, and I’ll show you around,” Poppy said.

“Definitely. I’ve been using the journal you sent me at the winter solstice, and I think I manifested your visit.”

Poppy shook her head at the other woman. They’d sent a small gift set to some of the shops around the US and the UK that stocked their products as a thank-you for their support. “In what way?”

“I was so sure we’d get on, and I have been wanting to talk to you about how you got started. I’ve written a dozen emails to you, then deleted them before I hit Send.”

“You should have sent them, but I’m here now. If you have time for a cup of tea and a chat,” Poppy said.

Solange’s shop was small and reminded her of the first space WiCKed Sisters had leased before they decided to stop doing things by half measures. It had taken a lot of debates and belief in themselves before she, Sera and Liberty went to the bank and got a loan to buy the building they were in now.

Solange’s shop had two bookshelves on one wall crammed with books and journals. The scent was so familiar—books, patchouli and freshly brewed tea—it was like returning home. The table with the WiCKed Sisters products was in the center of the store, and there was another long low table that held more crystals and other magick paraphernalia. Some soft chanting music was playing in the background. It was nice and cozy.

Solange got them both some tea before she sat across from Poppy and peppered her with questions about blending teas. Poppy shared the techniques she’d been using lately and invited her to join the Tea Society.

“Really? That would be fab. Can I get a picture with you and post it? Also put it up on the wall behind the register?”

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