Page 11 of Love Spell (Witches of London #3)

Hairpin turns, wind and rain in his face; it had been a long time since Noah had been on a mountain bike.

It all came back, the borrowed bike better than any he’d ever owned, his muscles no longer trained for the work, but he was lighter and wirier than he’d been, his reflexes more honed, and he managed to keep up with the more practiced older men.

The first time he fell in the foothills of lush green, wet with first autumn rains rolling in through Snowdonia, it was nothing. Just a bruised elbow and streaks of mud on jacket and hip. He’d misjudged the downhill, thought he could turn when he couldn’t: simple mathematical mistake.

The second time, on the steeper elevation, he didn’t get away so easy and it wasn’t his fault.

Arthur skidded on a rocky switchback below Noah at the turn.

Instead of leaning into it or letting his bike hit the inside of the slope if a fall was inevitable, Arthur panicked and hit the brakes.

He wrenched the bike sideways, didn’t call a warning, didn’t try to swing clear of the trail as Noah took the turn just after him.

It was either hit him or go over the side.

If it had been a sheer drop to certain death, of course Noah would have hit him.

But in the half-second he had to make his decision, it seemed that a rocky slope was a worthwhile risk versus the certainty of crashing into man and bike while going at a good pace.

He must have yelled something, couldn’t remember, only catching the edge of the trail and his bike suddenly travelling down the slope on its side until smack , and Noah blasted through several feet of mud and boulders, scraping skin off a palm, bashing his knee, and ending up on his back with the bike on top of him, breath knocked from his lungs.

He thought he’d be jeered for it — the new guy who couldn’t even keep his bike upright on an easy switchback, no matter that it was Arthur’s fault.

But no, Haoyu, the first on the scene to help him up while Noah was still trying to get his breath back and fight the bike off him, told Noah that was the best wipeout he’d seen in years.

Haoyu seemed to regard the whole thing as having been staged for his benefit.

Timo had to climb back up the trail to join them, rain dripping off his helmet visor, almost unrecognisable out of his suit and panting with the straight-up-and-over climbing method he’d used to reach them.

“Bloody hell, Noah, I missed it,” Timo chided him. “Can you do it again?”

“Shut up.” Noah spat mud. “Arthur! You’re supposed to say something if you brake hard in front of someone on a downhill!”

“I didn’t know you were that close!” Arthur was still above them, leaning out from the trail. “You okay?”

Bullshit he didn’t know.

Noah let a cheerful Haoyu pull him to his feet.

“Stay up front with me,” Timo said. “I never wear out a set of brakes.”

“I believe that.”

Then he’d been okay, scraped hand, and bruised, but exhilarated and actually feeling like one of the team by the time they returned to the hotel, soaked to the skin, sprayed in mud, triumphant in a way that only a hard workout and covering those glorious mountain miles could achieve.

Noah hadn’t been in a wilderness like this in years and, although city life was very much a choice for him, it also surprised him how deeply he could breathe all of a sudden.

He was far more dubious about the massage and sauna and whatever other supposed pampering came along with it, but he was even starting to decide those elements were good for team bonding.

Showered and changed into a fluffy white robe, bleeding hand patched with ointment and a small gauze pad, proud of his bruised elbow and leg, he found the sauna also brought back good memories, and the massage turned out to be worth the hype.

Never having had one and not comfortable with people he didn’t know touching him, Noah was surprised, even embarrassed, to discover how incredible that massage turned out to be.

He tried to pass on the facial, but the massage therapist encouraged him, explaining all the products and benefits, and she seemed to know her stuff. Noah relented for that one too.

She wore a silver pendant with an unusual symbol that Noah recognised.

“Is that Capricorn?”

“That’s right.” She glanced down as if she could see it. “Are you into astrology?”

“No, I mean, just a bit. I’ve always wanted a chart done. Curious, I guess.”

“You should. My partner got me a reading with an astrologer for my last birthday and it was astounding.”

Noah grinned. “Not a word you hear a lot. I’ll look into it.”

“What’s your sun sign?”

“Libra.”

“Happy birthday!”

Laughing, Noah would have shaken his head if she wasn’t smoothing some kind of mineral mud goo on his face. “My birthday’s not until October 6th.”

“My favourite month. I know spring has its merits, but I’ve always thought October was the most beautiful time of year.”

Silly as it was, Noah couldn’t help feeling a bit chuffed, as they said in England, by that.

He’d been slow at learning to love October.

It had been hard to greet it with joy growing up when it meant the settling of snow and failing light that wouldn’t reverse until April.

Give him summer any day. Now, though, he did love October, the colours and change and new texture to the air that had been too warm, too soft, until October touched the leaves and wrapped a filter around the sun.

While he lay back for the full facial treatment, sinking into silence, only a water fountain bubbling in the background, Noah remembered why he was dreading October this year: He didn’t even have until Halloween to wrap up his life here and leave the country.

It was frustrating to think of such things when he was supposed to relax and enjoy this moment.

Nothing he could do about any of it on this weekend away, and trying would be a total waste of the free vacation.

As soon as he got back, he had to move out of the current Airbnb, but at least he’d been able to leave his bags there since it was all paid through Monday. Small blessings.

Worry on Monday. Not now. Not today. Today he was part of the team, fitting it, just another one of the guys. Today, he was relaxing, as people did on weekends and vacations. Today, he was even grateful for the first time for a boss like Timo.

* * *

“To the Wolf Pack!” Cheers, howls, clattering glasses. The earlier toasts had started with AAM and reasons to celebrate. On the third round of drinks, everyone was getting more and more chummy — not to mention loud.

Noah would rather be in the company of actual wolves, who were quieter, formed loving family groups, and were all-around far more civilised.

Still, he’d had a good Saturday. Best time he’d had since he’d reached England just over a year ago.

The hard morning workout when he wasn’t used to it left him sore all over; his hand and leg ached, but he felt loose and drowsy after his spa afternoon and an hour’s break to read before the rowdy dinner got underway.

No one had been really nasty to him all day, and he’d even got the chance to talk a bit with people on the team he actually enjoyed being around, like Ranveer and Spencer.

He’d figured out at dinnertime why Timo hadn’t wanted Noah booked in all-inclusive as soon as Timo suggested they drive down to the village to experience local Welsh cooking and more sights before sunset. Not the team; just him and Noah.

Noah chose a place between two occupied chairs to make sure of keeping a distance from Timo at the big hotel dining room table, but he needn’t have worried. Once Noah refused the offer of date night, Timo returned to his role as pack alpha with his hyena smile by settling at the head of the table.

Noah got the chance to talk with Haoyu about his own work visa status and the process he’d been through, having followed Timo back from Hong Kong to join his new venture in London.

It wasn’t the kind of thing Noah felt he could ask about at work, but Haoyu seemed happy now to go on at length about timelines — long — and paperwork — lots — plus institutional racism he’d encountered.

Noah capped his own intake at two cocktails, not because it wouldn’t have been fun to overindulge on a night like this, but because he couldn’t let his guard down with Timo still prowling around, pretending he wasn’t.

Besides, it wasn’t every day he had a Michelin-starred dinner and he didn’t want drinking to blunt the experience.

Dessert was another matter. He’d always had a sweet tooth and he was happy to go all in on the large round of dessert orders, then swap with Spencer and Haoyu so he got to try not only his own chocolate orange mousse cake but the pistachio cake with glazed cherries and the refreshing crème fra?che panna cotta with cucumber sorbet.

He’d forgotten all about his injured hand by the time the final plates were cleared, all the men talking shop, showing no sign of letting the party run down, and Noah couldn’t help thinking it was the ideal end to a great day.

Might he even have a soak in the bath before bed?

He’d had to shower off mud earlier, but that wasn’t the same.

The whole weekend was for indulgence, right?

Sunday morning was supposed to be sunny.

They’d get another bike ride and lunch at the hotel or a beach visit and fish and chips before starting back for London.

Then all he had to do was make sure he was in Ranveer’s car, not Timo’s, for the return and he was home and dry. Pretty damn perfect weekend, really.

Some chairs were pushed back, the talk breaking off into groups of two or three, so Noah didn’t feel too conspicuous being the first to stand. He might just take a lavender tea up with him if the kitchen had it. He made his way into the next room to ask a bartender.