Page 7 of A Roar for Magic

“I sense a story here,” Romi said, watching the chaos with undisguised glee. “Please tell me there’s a story.”

“Not now, Romi.” The opera ceased mid-aria. The rain cloud dissipated with a final dramatic sprinkle. Enchanted candles floated back to their proper places, though the pyramid would need complete rebuilding.

“That was amazing!” Halle wrung out her shirt, grinning like a kid at a carnival. “Can we make rain candles a regular thing?”

“No.” Clover turned to face Rook, who had the grace to look sheepish. Up close, he towered over her, but she planted her hands on her hips anyway. “Do you always leave destruction in your wake, or is this a special occasion?”

His apologetic smile shouldn’t have been charming. It definitely shouldn’t have made her stomach flip like she’d swallowed a handful of Butterfly Joy candle shavings. “Sorry about that. I’m usually better at, uh, not breaking things.”

“Oh, this is precious,” Romi stage-whispered to Xabir. “Look at them - he’s completely flustered. When’s the last time you saw big, bad Rook Katz flustered?”

“College graduation,” Xabir replied thoughtfully. “That speech where he?—”

“Focus, people!” Clover clapped her hands again, sending a shower of green sparks through the air. “We have paying customers who are very confused about why they suddenly know all the words to ‘The Marriage of Figaro.’“

“You know,” Halle piped up, handing Rook a towel for the residual raindrops, “Clover makes amazing custom scents. You should ask her to make one for you. Something tiger-y and alpha-ish.”

“Halle!” Heat crept up Clover’s neck as she glared at her assistant, who just shrugged with calculated innocence.

“Actually,” Rook said, his voice dropping to that rumble that did inappropriate things to Clover’s pulse, “I came looking for something for my grandmother. Ilaria mentioned your shop specifically.”

“Did she now?” Romi’s eyes sparkled with mischief. “Interesting. Very interesting. You know, Ilaria’s been asking about you lately, Clover. All sorts of questions about your magical abilities, your business acumen, your relationship status?—”

THREE

“Don’t you have a café to run?” Clover interrupted desperately.

“Nope! Left Whiskers in charge. That cat’s got better business sense than most humans I know.”

Poe chose that moment to swoop down between them all, landing on Clover’s shoulder with a disapproving ruffle of feathers. “Tiger’s getting awful close to the jasmine display,” he muttered. “Those are temperamental. Like someone else I could mention.”

“I am not temperamental,” Clover protested.

“He meant me,” Rook said, surprising a laugh out of her. His eyes crinkled at the corners when he smiled, transforming his whole face into something dangerously appealing.

“She’s a lot like you,” Xabir chuckled to Romi. “It’s no surprise she caught Rook’s attention.”

“I didn’t—he hasn’t—” Clover spluttered.

“Please,” Romi drawled. “He’s knocked over an entire display just because you smiled at him. If that’s not attention, I don’t know what is.”

“That’s not?—”

“Speaking of attention,” Halle cut in, “did you know Clover stress-bakes when she’s attracted to someone? Last week she made three batches of enchanted cookies just because a guest of Captain Waterfall walked by in uniform?—”

“That was because of the pixie situation!” But Clover’s protest came out weaker than intended, especially when she caught Rook’s expression. Was that jealousy flickering across his features? Surely not.

“Right, right.” Halle nodded sagely. “The pixie situation. Which is why you kept muttering about how the uniform really brought out?—”

“Don’t we have inventory to do?” Clover’s voice hit a high note.

“Already done!” Halle beamed. “Which leaves me plenty of time to?—”

“Okay!” Clover slapped her hands together, sending another shower of sparks that made everyone jump. “Don’t we all have somewhere to be? Shops to run? Prides to lead? Anything?”

“Actually,” Romi said with a decidedly wicked grin, “I think we should discuss that double date idea. Xabir and I know this lovely little restaurant?—”

“I should pick out those candles for my grandmother,” Rook interrupted, and Clover could have kissed him for the save.

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