Page 189 of Magical Mission
“Oh, you totally should. It’s yourdad,after all.”
If only they knew the real reason Alex got on all fours and nearly howled at the moon.
Skye groaned through her grin. “Oh, I miss this.”
I turned to her with a soft smile. “Me too.”
Skye let her head fall back against the cushion. “I am so beyond done. I love this baby. I do. But if I don’t get to lie on my stomach sometime soon, I might flip a table.”
“You always were dramatic,” I said, nudging her knee.
“This isn’t drama. This istruth.I can’t see my feet anymore. I cry when the bread goes stale. The other day I put my phone in the freezer and couldn’t find it for four hours.”
Celeste snorted. “That’samazing.”
“Want to trade bodies for a day?” Skye shot back. “You can deal with the swollen ankles, and I’ll go flirt with Darren.”
“No thanks,” Celeste said, pretending to shudder. “You’dterrifyhim.”
I tucked my feet up under me and let the conversation flow around me, warm and easy. It had been too long since the three of us had been together like this, with no distractions, no guilt-trips, no missed calls or text bubbles that faded away before being sent.
Just… us.
Safe.
Here.
The cottage crackled softly around us, the windows fogging slightly from the heat inside versus the chill of early spring beyond. I knew Stella was probably elbow-deep in conjured sourdough and enchantments that required moon salt. But in this moment, I was just Maeve.
Mom. Best friend. The one who laughed too hard at her ex barking at a terrified boy and knew exactly how much Skye had always hated not being able to plan her life to the second.
“Do you have names whittled down?” I asked gently, glancing at Skye’s belly.
She shook her head. “Not yet. We’re waiting.”
“Boy or girl preference?”
“Doesn’t matter,” she said, patting her stomach. “They’re already a force of nature. I can feel it. And if they don’t come out soon, I might start casting spells whether I have magic or not.”
I raised a brow. “I think I’ve rubbed off on you.”
“God help us all,” she muttered, grinning.
At that moment, a warm breeze floated in from the kitchen, carrying with it the scent of something freshly baked, slightly sweet, and, miracle of miracles, not smoking.
Skye inhaled deeply and sighed. “That better be something edible.”
“Stella’s in charge,” I said. “So yes. Probably.”
Celeste stretched out her legs and rested her head against my shoulder again. “I love it here.”
My heart clenched.
I didn’t know what the world would look like in a few days.
But I knew I’d fight like hell to keep this moment intact.
Stella swept in like a fairy godmother disguised as an herbalist. Her arms were laden with a wooden tray of golden hand pies, sliced apples drizzled in honey, and mugs that steamed with a rich, spiced tea. Somehow, she’d even found napkins embroidered with tiny vines—cottage magic, no doubt.
