Page 1 of Shamrocks & Second Chances

Chapter 1—Bella

THE MORNING RUSH ATMoonwake Café is in full swing, and I’m in my element. I wipe my hands on my apron, which is a handmade creation covered in coffee stains and spell dust and survey my domain with pride.

“Espresso machine’s acting up again,” I mutter to the gleaming copper contraption. I tap it twice with my wand, and it gives a contented hum in response. “That’s better. Now behave yourself. We’ve got a busy day ahead.”

The café smells of freshly ground beans, cinnamon, and the subtle undertone of magic that permeates everything in Evershift Haven, my little corner of supernatural paradise. Outside, the town square bustles with activity as residents prepare for the spring festival. The ancient oak tree at the center—the Heart of Haven—has begun sprouting tiny luminescent buds that will soon burst into enchanted blossoms.

A small golden-brown blur zooms past my feet, nearly tripping me.

“Hecate. What have I told you about running indoors?” I call after my familiar.

The tiny Yorkie-Chihuahua mix skids to a halt, her fluffy tail swishing indignantly. “I wasn’t running. I was strategically relocating at high velocity.” She hops onto a barstool, her moon-shaped collar charm glowing a mischievous orange. “Besides, I’m checking the perimeter. Security is important, Bella.”

I roll my eyes and continue preparing for the morning rush. “The only security threat in here is you stealing pastries when you think I’m not looking.”

“Slander and lies.” Hecate sniffs dramatically. “Also, I had a dream last night. A prophetic one.”

“Was it about you finally admitting you’re not descended from dragons?” I arrange fresh-baked muffins in the display case, their tops glistening with sugar crystals.

“I am so descended from dragons. My great-great-grandmother breathed fire after eating spicy food.” Hecate puffs up her tiny chest. “No, I dreamed about...him.”

My hand freezes mid-arrangement. There’s only one “him” that makes Hecate use that tone.

“Don’t be ridiculous.” I straighten the muffins with unnecessary precision. “Seamus O’Connell is long gone. Probably off charming some other poor woman with those green eyes and that stupid crooked smile.”

“And those broad shoulders,” Hecate adds helpfully. “And the way he used to bring you wildflowers that sang when you touched them.”

“Not helping.” I flick a dish towel in her direction, which she dodges with practiced ease.

“I’m just saying, my prophetic dreams are never wrong. Remember when I predicted Mrs. Thornberry would turn her husband into a toad?”

“That wasn’t prophecy. You overheard her threatening to do it at book club.”

Hecate waves a paw dismissively. “Details. The point is, I think he’s coming back. Today, and when he does...” She bares her tiny teeth, “I’m going to bite his ankles.”

“You will do no such thing.” I point my wand at her sternly. “No ankle-biting in my café. That’s bad for business.”

“Fine.” She huffs. “But I reserve the right to judge him silently and with great intensity.”

The bell above the door chimes, signaling our first customer of the day. I plaster on my professional smile and turn to greet them.

“Welcome to Moonwake Café, where every cup is—” The words die in my throat.

Standing in the doorway, backlit by the morning sun, is Seamus O’Connell. His wild red hair is longer than I remember, pulled back in a loose knot at the nape of his neck. He wears a fitted green shirt with intricate Celtic embroidery that matches his eyes perfectly. Those mesmerizing green eyes, still as striking as ever, lock onto mine, and for a moment, the world stops spinning.

“Told you,” Hecate whispers, her collar charm turning a smug purple.

Seamus steps into the café, bringing with him the scent of rain-soaked earth and magic. He looks exactly the same, yet somehow different. More weathered around the edges. His smile, when it comes, is hesitant and nothing like the confident grin I remember.

“Hello, Bella.” His voice washes over me like warm honey with an Irish accent.

I grip the counter to steady myself. “Seamus. What an unexpected surprise.” My voice comes out cooler than the iced lattes I serve in summer.

He approaches the counter slowly, as if I might bolt if he moves too quickly. He’s not wrong.

“You look wonderful.” His gaze travels over my face, down to my hair, bespelled vibrant green for the upcoming LoveLuck festival. “Green suits you.”

“Thanks,” I say automatically. “What are you doing here, Seamus? Last I heard, you were headed back to the fae realm.Family obligations, wasn’t it?” The bitterness in my voice could curdle milk.

---