Page 40 of Brewing Up a Bad Boy

“What is that even?”

“It’s a cup that was reputedly made from a piece of the True Cross and could heal anyone who drank from it,” she said with a tinkling laugh. “Is that toowoo-woofor you, or is it more palatable because it’s based in organized religion?”

“I’m not into organized religion,” he said. “I’m sorry I called anything woo-woo. It’s just that I didn’t have another way of describing it. What do you call it?”

“Spiritual.”

He repeated the word softly. There was something almost glowing about Poppy now. Another facet that he’d somehow missed even though he’d known her since she was eighteen.

“Don’t backpedal when I tell you the last legend associated with this place. It’s from Celtic mythology. But when I first heard about it, I thought of Shakespeare’sA Midsummer Night’s Dream. It’s about the King of the Fairies. So many different belief systems see the Tor has an entrance to another world. In this case the land of the fairies. Others say it’s the land of the dead. A portal allowing both fairies and spirits to cross between worlds.”

Was she teasing him? There was a spark in her eyes as she waited to see how he’d react. Honestly, he didn’t know if they were closer to the land of the fairies or the undead. But something was changing in him the closer they got to the top.

His fierce conviction that Poppy was the key to his freedom from the past was fading. She no longer seemed a stepping stone to a life he wanted for himself. Just the woman that he wanted to keep by his side.

Except that wasn’t happening. He didn’t have to have otherworldly magic to figure that out. She was here because she had a good heart. He wasn’t ever going to be a man she’d trust with it again.

“Exciting. So which of those is the reason you wanted to be up here tonight?”

“Neither.” She beamed at him. “There is one more thing. This entire area is important to the modern-day Goddess movement. There’s a festival here where the Goddess leads a procession.”

He could see that. A very feminine energy wrapped around him. In the past, he would have felt threatened by it, responding with his own version of masculine energy, which always manifested itself in the worst way. He’d never been comfortable owning his interest in things that weren’t necessarily defined as masculine.

“Thanks for sharing this with me,” he said, catching up to Poppy and slipping his hand into hers. Their fingers twined together, and a tingle went up his arm and then straight to his core. His entire being embraced this energy.

As the warmth and sensuality wrapped around him, he slowly started to realize that the feminine essence wasn’t just for women. Glancing over at Poppy, it was hard to separate these new feelings from her.

Was she The One?

Of course she was. Everything always came back to Poppy.

Touching Alistair should always be approached with caution, but she found right now, in this place, there was no need for caution. The Goddess wrapped her in a comforting embrace that encouraged her to claim her full power.

She always pulled back, afraid of shining too bright or drawing too much attention to herself. Even with Liberty and Serafina. But her friends seemed to know this and saw past those moments.

That was the beauty of finding women who were kindred spirits. They got her, and she didn’t have to explain everything to them. They gave her space to make her own way into her strength.

Honestly, she still wasn’t sure what her strength was. Tea making was her legacy, something her family had always done and something she had a natural ability to do. But the thing that was Poppy? That was still half formed and nebulous.

She’d been thrilled when Alistair offered to bring them here, because she wanted to be as close to the Goddess and the sun as she could today. She needed to be near the fairy kingdom now, when the veil between worlds was so thin. She’d even made a wreath of flowers after seeing Solange’s at the shop. Afraid that Alistair might not get it, she’d been carrying it in her backpack instead of wearing it.

But the energy between them had changed on the walk up. They were more than halfway to the top when they stopped again. She felt the pull of magick the way she did when she was with Liberty and Sera at the top of Hanging Hill in Birch Lake.

She took her long sarong scarf from her backpack, wrapping it around her waist into a skirt before shimmying out of her leggings and putting the flower wreath on her head.

“Titania,” Alistair said almost reverently.

That was all it took. It felt like she was being lit from the inside of her soul. There was no need to keep any part of herself locked away. Not here. Not with Alistair.

Maybe for tonight?

Once doubt seeped into her thoughts, she couldn’t shake it, remembering how Titania and Oberon fought bitterly over a child inAMidsummer Night’s Dream, and how Oberon used poison to make Titania fall in love with the first person she saw.

Was there a warning in this realization? Or was she so used to seeing deception and lies when she was around Alistair that even now, at this magical moment where the sun was still full on this longest day of the year, it plagued her? Couldn’t she let herself enjoy this time with him?

“What is it? You’re frowning. Are you okay?”

Trust yourself, a voice whispered in her mind.

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