Page 34 of Whisked Away
She raises her nose just a tad higher in the air and smirks in a way that makes it hard for me not to smile. “Nope, got some advice from the city girl.”
“Alexandra?”
“Mhmm. I’ll place my order on Monday.”
“You know, Mrs. Delehay, if you already know what you want, you could tell me now.”
She lifts the pup into her arms. “Pah. Now where would be the fun in that?”
Without another word, she wanders off toward the vendors, and I release a sigh. If Zoe were here, she’d laugh until tears formed in her eyes. Zoe loves when someone flusters me. She thinks it’s humorous to play with fate.
I don’t know what Alex suggested for Mrs. Delehay. It could end up actually being something outside my skill set or something I lack the ingredients to produce. But I somehow doubt Alex would set me up to fail.
All week, she’s shared stories about her life, misadventures in her world travels, late nights with a stiff back as she typed away to meet a deadline, and—most affectionately—reminiscences of time spent with her sister. I’ve offered her bits and pieces of myself along the way, as much as I can, at least. I want to give her everything: tell her why I’m stuck here in the Cove, why maybe it’s growing on me, and why Jas feared her. Because the council isn’t happy she’s stayed this long, and every magical resident has been warned to keep their secrets buried deep. Parents of kids like Jas have told them to steer clear, afraid that one slip—one moment of unguarded magic—could unravel everything.
I’d stopped by his house the night before to check on him after I’d dropped Alex off at the B&B. After we’d shared thatkiss that felt like tasting Porcelana chocolate for the first time. Complex and simple, pure yet filled with fire.
The taste of Alex was still on my lips when I sat with Jas on his house’s front stoop.
“Ethan, everyone says she’s going to find out about our magic. Mom says she’s dangerous!”
He’d released a slow breath through his nose, and I tried to think with my brain instead of my heart for once.I’ll keep you safe, buddy, I promise.
Jas had looked up, and his furrowed brow and tense shoulders melted away. Like he had perfect faith in me. It had been a long time since anyone had offered me so much. I couldn’t throw it away.
And that’s why inviting Alex to stay for another day was a mistake. Especially when Dean Markham had made it clear she needed to leave as quickly as possible. The goal was to let the Whisk make a good impression and then send her on her way. Instead, I found myself sneaking around the bakery all week, using Zoe or some of our employees as distractions, so I could infuse magic into the food without Alex noticing. Instead, I found myself kissing her in the rain and wishing she’d stay forever. That kind of idiocy is exactly what cost me my freedom.
I’ve just about talked myself into leaving the farmer’s market and standing Alex up when she walks through the entrance. She’s wearing a pair of fitted jeans that hug her hips and a simple t-shirt, yet something about the material makes it drape perfectly around her curves. Her hair is pulled back into a curled ponytail, and her eyes search the crowd. When they land on me, they light up. My heart warms, and before I can continue my litany of protestations, I walk to meet her.
“Alex.” I’m not sure what the protocol is for greeting her. The last time I saw her, I walked away with her chapstick’s vanilla flavor on mylips.
“Morning, Chief.” If she’s feeling any nerves, she’s not showing them. She tucks her hands into her pockets as she looks around. “So, this is the must-see farmer’s market?”
I shrug and start walking. It’s difficult to look at her eyes glowing golden in the sunlight and not want to kiss her again. To hear that nickname she’s dubbed me with—one that apparently means she finds me attractive and competent—and not want more. But I can’t have more with her, for a million reasons.
One of them sits at a picnic table, his black leather jacket on even in the heat. He narrows his eyes in my direction. I give Dean a head bob and move on. Alex frowns in his direction but keeps to my side. There will be hell to pay later, but I’ll face it to capture even a few more hours with Alex.
We pass a gazebo where Rachel leads her band students in a lively song. Grant has set his ice cream cart next to it, and I offer him a wave. Alex does the same to Rachel, who grins and returns the gesture before turning in time to catch a twelve-year-old’s flute that he nearly drops. Alex’s laugh feels like opening a fresh batch of cinnamon, rich and full of possibilities. She already recognizes people here, and my heart wants to dream, wants to believe that Alex might love it here. That she might want to move here. Might want someone here.
But that’s ridiculous. Alex isn’t even magical.
We pass Mia and Zoe. The latter shoots finger guns at us, which makes Alex smile until her cheeks fill with color. A slip of golden hair spills free from her hair tie and curves against her cheek. I’m desperate to touch it.
“Oh, look.” Alex walks toward another booth. It’s Jas’s mother’s soap stand, filled with bars and bottles. As we move closer, the air fills with the scents of lavender and honey, mint and coconut. On the table’s end, Jas has set up a homemade sign:Jas’s Sweetcakes!
A few dozen cupcakes are stacked around the sign, andwhen we reach him, a grin spreads across my face. When Jas first started spending time with me, he fumbled over his words and would shrug if someone asked him if he enjoyed baking.
“Do we have our newest market vendor?” I ask.
Jas flips his attention to me and then bounces on his toes. “Ethan! I was wondering if you’d come today.” His gaze drifts to Alex, and he smiles. He’s so much more at ease today. He truly believes I’m going to keep him safe. And I must.
“We sure do,” says his mother, Olivia, who has her red hair braided back and tucked beneath a sunhat. She offers me a wink. “All thanks to you, Ethan.”
“Nah. You can’t beat natural talent, which Jas has in spades. All I did was offer a little help. What do you have for sale, Jas?”
His cheeks flare with a bit of color, but he doesn’t break my gaze. It makes me damn proud of the kid and how far he’s come. “Well, last night I thought: What might Ethan suggest we make? So, I decided to try a brand-new cupcake recipe on my own. I’m calling them Courage Cupcakes!”
“Did you really?” I ask. “What flavor?”
