Page 13 of Blossoms and Bloodlines
She shrugged. “I’ll make it work. I just wish I’d thought it through.”
Gael tilted his head. “You know,” he said, keeping his tone light, “I could help.”
Her eyes narrowed instantly.
“Not with my actual hands,” he clarified, quickly holding up his palms, fingers wiggling. “There’s enough produce to need four people, anyway. I could help with magic.”
Beth looked at him like he’d offered to barbecue Nick, the beloved town veterinarian and unicorn shifter. “That’s cheating.”
“I didn’t realize this was a competition.” He shrugged. “I see it more as efficient management of resources. I have a skill that can help, why not use it?”
He let his shields down, just a little. Enough to feel her. The wariness, the heat. The dislike that wasn’t as simple as she made it seem. And beneath it all, a dash of temptation. Maybe even curiosity. “There’s nothing wrong with accepting help,” he said, his voice steadier than he felt.
She tilted her head. “Even if a demon’s offering?”
“Well,” he said dryly, “I’m hardly a demon. And honestly, demons get a bad rap. I know a few. Delightful dinner guests.”
Her lips twitched. Not quite a smile, but notnota smile, right before the harder question. “Why do you want to help so badly?”
He hesitated. He could’ve given her something neat and smooth. Forgettable, like community goodwill or seasonal spirit.But the truth was, she’d gotten under his skin and the thought of her, or of her and Bryn, had taken up more mental real estate than he had to give. And he hated being preoccupied almost as much as he hated being misjudged. Especially by her.
So he gave her the truth. “Because I like it,” he said simply, glancing toward the chaos of her garden. “Because this,” he gestured at the table, the plants, her, “is the closest thing to perfection I’ve felt in weeks.” A pause. “Maybe longer. And because it’s Mabon, it fits even more.”
She blinked, thrown just enough for him to see it.
“What about the festival?” she asked.
“It’s fine. Loud. Fun.” He met her gaze, steady and sincere. “This is better.”
Beth stared at him a second longer, then let out a long sigh and rolled her eyes in the most dramatic, I-regret-this-already kind of way. “All right. The gate’s around the –”
She never finished the sentence because Gael vaulted the fence in one movement that had a touch more flair than what was strictly necessary. A little showing off had never killed anyone.
She noticed. And he noticed her noticing.
Perfect.
“So,” he said, rubbing his hands together like an elf about to have the time of his life. “What are we doing first?”
Beth blinked, clearly thrown by his eagerness. “Uh... the apples are probably the worst of it. There’s just so many.”
“You want them peeled, cored, diced, and in there, yes?” he asked, nodding toward the large ceramic pot resting on the other side of the table.
She nodded. “Yeah. I’ll grab the sugar and some lemons to juice into it.”
“Consider it handled.”
She gave him a suspicious look over her shoulder as she walked away, to which he merely smiled. He pulled a rickety chair close, dropped into it, picked up a glossy red apple, and rolled it thoughtfully in his palm before taking a bite. Sweet, crisp, tart at the edges, exactly as he liked them. Gael let his focus drift outward as he chewed, and apples lifted from the table, hovering lazily in the air.
Just a half-thought and the air shimmered faintly as telekinetic force flickered to life. Telekinesis peeled, cored, and cut in light-speed succession, then the pieces floated into the large ceramic pot like obedient dancers, while cores dropped neatly in a bowl and peels into another.
He popped a piece into his mouth and leaned back just as Beth returned, lemons in one hand and a bag of sugar in the other. She’d tamed her hair some, but the smudges of dirt were still all there.
She stopped in her tracks. Her eyes jumped between him and the neat arrangement of fruit, then she only asked, “How... how did you do that? I was gone for, like, five minutes. I knew magic would speed things up, but this...”
He gave a modest shrug that wasn’t modest at all. “Not magic, per se. Telekinesis. Very high-end, centuries-refined telekinesis. I’ve had a lot of time to practice.”
Beth set the sugar down and picked up a chunk of apple, examining it like she expected it to be a trick. “I didn’t know telekinesis could work like this.”
