Page 12 of Foxer Upper (Harmony Glen #8)

MAGGIE

Laney and I are sitting at the bar at Hip Hops, sipping something Vienne has dubbed the Gingerslap, a tester for her holiday menu. It’s warm, spicy, sweet, and strong , so I get why she calls it that. I’m on my second one, and I’m feeling it like a slap in the face.

The pub is moderately busy, but there aren’t many customers at the bar, so we have privacy. The Indie music is low, the Edison bulbs cast a warm, old-fashioned glow, and I’m excited to relax and gossip with my best friend.

“You look like you’re up to something,” Laney says, and I lean in close, ready to share my most exciting tidbit.

“Gabe and I kissed after the Harvest Festival. Like kissed kissed. Like grinding on his lap, sucking face, kissed.”

“Ooooh.” Laney’s eyes go big. “How was it?”

“Hot. So hot. Hottest kiss ever. I thought it might be weird, because of the shape of his face—snout?—but nope. It was good.”

She giggles. “And was that the only time?”

I roll my lips together to suppress my grin. “I mean…there may have been others after that.”

“Have you seen him naked yet?”

“Laney!” I give her a light smack on the arm. “No.”

“Why not? Don’t you want to?” she asks.

“Oh, I totally do. I’m just nervous. I’ve never been with anyone who isn’t human. Sex with a monster is intimidating,” I whisper.

“Speaking from experience, I would highly recommend it.” She pretends to buff her fingernails on her shirt, looking smug.

Vienne pokes her head in between us. “I second that.”

I whip my head around to stare at her. “You heard me? Kill me now.”

“Succubi have excellent hearing,” Vienne says.

“And there’s no need to be embarrassed. Sex is a natural, healthy part of life.

And I can tell you for certain: Gabe is a great guy, and if you’re interested, you should go for him.

But if you’re not, tell him. He doesn’t deserve to have his heart broken.

” She shoots me a knowing glance, and I’m well aware of her meaning.

Furthermore, she’s right. After what happened with his fiancée, I have an obligation to be careful with his feelings. “I get your point. But I have no intention of hurting him, unless it’s pulling a muscle during a wild bout of boning.”

Vienne snorts and Laney chokes on her drink before giving me a high-five.

“He’s coming over for Thanksgiving. I was thinking that might be the day, you know?”

Vienne and Laney both nod. “I think it’s perfect,” my best friend says.

She raises her mug and I follow suit. “Here’s to getting naked with hot monsters.” We clink our glasses together as Vienne cheers, “Hear hear!”

GABE

Harmony Tea and Treats is busy when I walk in, though there’s no sign of Dorvak, the town’s orc baker.

He’s probably in the back, scaring the ovens into behaving.

Fortunately, Laney—his fiancée and Maggie’s best friend—is out front, cheerfully chatting with customers and making tea.

The mouthwatering scent of baking pastries hangs in the air as I make my way over.

“Hey, Laney.”

“Gabe, hi. How are things going?” The knowing smirk she gives me tells me she’s aware of everything happening in my relationship with Maggie. She probably knows more about Maggie’s feelings for me than I do. I’m thankful my fur prevents me from being able to blush.

“Things are good, but I need your help. I’m going to Maggie’s for Thanksgiving dinner, and I’m supposed to bring dessert. I need to order something.”

She grabs a pen and the special-order form, leaning forward on the counter. “We can do that. What do you have in mind?”

“Um…nothing in particular? Pumpkin pie, maybe? Or pecan?”

She wrinkles her nose. “Eh, I don’t think so.”

“Why? Does Maggie not like pie?”

Laney chuckles. “Everyone likes pie. But I think you should do something more special. Something like…” She twirls the pen as she thinks. “Maybe a cinnamon crumb cake with caramel streusel. So it glazes the cake. No frosting.”

“Okay,” I say. “Is that something you can do?”

She turns toward the kitchen. “Dorvak!” she calls.

A moment later, the orc himself emerges, sidling up close to her. She shows him the notes she made on the form. “Can you do something like this for Thanksgiving? He’s taking it to Maggie. They’re having dinner together.“ She waggles her brows.

“Of course,” Dorvak says gruffly. He turns to me. “But you’ll have to pick it up on Wednesday. We’re closed for Thanksgiving. Having a feast of our own.”

The searing look he gives Laney—and her giggle and flush at his words—has me doing my best not to think about exactly what he plans to eat next week.

Instead, I thank them both and hurry out, moving on to the next part of my Thanksgiving offering: a jigsaw puzzle.

Maggie mentioned that she liked them, and I find one online that’s inspired by Agatha Christie’s Death on the Nile.

With a grin, I place the order and expedite the shipping.

She’ll get a kick out of it, for sure. Plus, it’ll give us something to do after we eat.

GABE

Using the comb Maggie gave me, I brush my fur until it’s soft and shiny. I throw on a pair of worn jeans, a black henley, and black boots. Then I grab my coat and gloves, the cake and the puzzle, and walk over to Maggie’s.

She looks radiant when she opens the door. She’s also in soft jeans, an autumn-themed Fair Isle sweater, and fuzzy socks. Her long hair is down, gently curling around her shoulders and along her back. And she smells delicious, like sugar and vanilla.

“Gabe, come in! Let me take your coat.” She welcomes me in with a huge grin and hangs my coat on a coatrack that I know she personally rescued and refinished from Nifty Thrifty.

I put my items down on her console table and lean in to give her a hug. “You smell great,” I say. “And so does whatever you’re cooking.”

“Thanks. What’s all this?” she asks, looking at the packages I brought.

“A cinnamon cake recommended by Laney, and a little gift for you.” I pass her the puzzle and pick up the bakery box to take to the kitchen. She walks with me and sets her gift on the counter, eagerly unwrapping it. When she sees what’s inside, she squeals.

“Wait, it’s a 1000-piece puzzle and a mystery?” she says, reading the box. “Instead of a picture of the puzzle on the box, you figure out what the image is by solving clues alongside Poirot?” She turns to me. “Gabe, this is amazing! I can’t wait to dive in.”

“I’m so glad you like it. I thought maybe we could start it after we eat.”

Her eyes go big and round. “You’re willing to do it with me? An incredibly difficult mystery puzzle?”

I raise my brows in surprise. “Of course. I wouldn’t leave you to do this alone, unless you wanted me to. I think it looks like it could be fun.”

Before she can respond, there’s a thump from the other room, and we shoot each other questioning glances. By the time we make it out of the kitchen, the culprit is on the move, thumping up the stairs.

“Jasper!” Maggie sounds slightly exasperated.

“Hang on. I have an idea of what he’s up to.

” She jogs up the stairs and comes back a moment later with one of my winter gloves.

“That cat has been thieving again. He left this on my pillow, just like last time with your work glove.” She sets it back on the console with its mate.

“Why do you think he does that?”

She shrugs. “Maybe he just likes gloves. Growing up, I had a cat who stole socks, just for fun. Or maybe he thinks it’s a way to keep you here? I have no idea. Cat logic is hard to fathom.” She turns back to the kitchen. “I need to check on the food.”

“I’ll give you a hand. What are we having?”

“Mashed potatoes, green beans, rolls Dorvak made. Macaroni with a crispy cheese topping, fresh cranberries, and then some of Gillian’s pumpkin cookies and your cake for dessert. Water, wine, and cider—again, courtesy of Gilly—as drink options.”

“No turkey?”

She shakes her head. “I’m not a fan. I’ve always preferred sides to the main course when it comes to Thanksgiving foods. I hope that’s okay with you.”

“Sure. I’m not a picky eater, so most meals work for me.”

“Perfect.” She opens the bakery box and peeks at the cake. “Holy bananas. This looks incredible. It was Laney’s idea?”

“Yeah. I was gonna order a pie, but she insisted we needed a cinnamon crumble cake with a streusel drizzle. Dorvak said he could make it, so here we are.”

Maggie beams. “I love that woman.”