Page 18 of Magic & Mochas (Tales of Love & Lore #1)

I laughed, and Thorne looked between me and my familiar. “I have a feeling I’m missing something here.”

“I would appreciate both of your help,” I said to mollify them.

No, he reeks. The Dark One can leave. Silas hissed and swatted at Thorne when he tried to come closer. I’ve tolerated his presence long enough already.

Thorne hopped back, with an amused expression on his face. But instead of trying to approach again, he turned around and moved over to the small fridge.

That’s right, flee before my magnanimous self. Silas curled his tail around his paws proudly.

“Sorry about him, Thorne. I’m sure he’ll come around eventually.” Silas usually just left if Thorne got too close, but he was being extra stubborn today for some reason.

“Maybe I can make eventually come a little sooner.” When he turned around, Thorne was holding a small cup overflowing with whipped cream. The shadowmancer carefully placed it in front of Silas. “A peace offering, from one protector to another.”

I hid my smile as I watched Silas’ slitted eyes dilate. He sniffed at the mound of fluffy white cream and huffed. I suppose I will tolerate his presence for today. Then he began licking up the cream, and proceeded to totally ignore us.

“Is it safe to approach?” Thorne stage-whispered to me.

I hid my smile behind my hand. “It is. You’ve won him over for tonight—an admirable feat.”

“Phew. That’s a relief.” Thorne gave me a wink as he cautiously came within cat-claw distance.

“Now we can get down to business.” I nodded, and brought out some of the more interesting ingredients I’d been saving.

“What are all these?” Thorne asked, peering curiously at them.

“Potential ingredients. I’ve got some stardust, aurora in a bottle, mermaid’s tears, ice from the Northwind’s breath, smoked sage, and some mist from an ancient moor.” When prepared right, they not only tasted great, but would also have magical effects.

“What would you make with the ice?” Thorne fingered the cork of the bottle.

“A medium roast iced coffee that brings clarity and emotional calm, and can cool even the hottest tempers,” I answered. “I’d call it the Frostfang Brew.”

“Not bad, though it strikes me more as a summertime drink.” He set the vial down gently.

“Good point. I considered maybe the smoked sage or the mist, but those might be too dreary for a festive ball.” I drummed my fingernails on the counter.

“How would you use the stardust?”

“In the past, I made a Starfall Cappuccino with it. It enhanced my intuition, made my hair glitter, and gave me visions of possible futures.” It had been quite the experience.

Thorne grimaced. “Maybe not the best idea to have a room full of magical creatures hallucinating.”

I laughed. “You’re right, let’s save that disaster for another time. That just leaves…” I snapped my fingers, startling Silas, who grumbled at me. “How about an Aurora Affogato?”

“An avocado?” Thorne scrunched up his nose in confusion.

“No, no—an affogato. It’s a dessert made by pouring hot coffee over a scoop of ice cream.

And if I add in some of my captured aurora…

” I flipped open my grimoire to the entry I needed, wanting to double check.

“It should cause the drinker to glitter and gleam, and may cause bursts of joy and spontaneous dancing!”

“Bingo! I think you’ve found the perfect dessert drink for the ball.” He smiled at me in a way that set butterflies loose in my stomach. “I think it’ll be a big hit with everyone.”

“Thanks for brainstorming with me.” Rasmus had always written my ideas off, so it was nice to not only be taken seriously, but to have someone willing to help in the developmental stage, and not just as a taste-tester after all the hard work was already done.

I still enjoyed the entire process, though, even if I was doing it alone.

“Who are you thinking about when you get that sad look on your face?” Thorne took a step closer, and gripped my chin gently with his calloused fingers, to force my eyes to meet his.

“No one. I just—how long?” I blurted out. “How long do you plan to stay in Willowmere?”

“I’m…not sure yet,” he said, an unreadable expression on his face. “Can I tell you a secret?”

“Anything,” I breathed.

“Ever since I ran away from home, I haven’t stayed in one place for long. I was afraid to be tied down by relationships with others, only to be uprooted and chased out all over again.” Instead of sorrow, his eyes were filled with a sort of wonder. “But that fear…it’s starting to fade.”

Did he mean that it was fading…because of me?

“Can I tell you a secret?” I repeated, my heart fluttering like a hummingbird’s wings.

“Anything,” he murmured.

“When I came back home, I swore to myself I would never open myself up to the kind of pain Rasmus put me through again.” A lump rose in my throat, but I swallowed it down. “But…”

“But?” he prompted quietly.

“But then you came along.” Being this honest scared me. These feelings scared me, especially so soon after my breakup.

Were we moving too fast?

Was I simply fooling myself?

“And you barged right into my bathroom like a wild little thing.” He chuckled, and I felt my face flush at the memory. “Then had the audacity to put the most feared shadowmancer in the land to work as a barista, of all things.”

“And I’ve appreciated every moment since. Every early morning and every late night.” Despite myself, I reached out a hand to trace the thin scar that cut through his eyebrow with my thumb.

If I asked him to stay, would he?

Why was I so afraid to find out?

“I’m happy to help you every day of the week, Clove Morelli.” Our faces were inches apart now.

My eyes dropped to his lips, and I found myself wondering what they would taste like covered in stardust and sugar. Thorne closed the gap, pressing his lips against mine with a tenderness that made me ache.

I wrapped my arms around his neck and tangled my fingers in his dark-as-night hair, enjoying the feel of each silky strand.

He cupped the back of my head, his other hand going around my waist and tugging me against him.

A third, cool caress startled me into opening my eyes to see a tendril of shadow was brushing my hair back from my face.

I laughed against his lips and took his face in my hands. His trim goatee scraped against my hands, which he then kissed, his molten amethyst eyes rooting me to the spot with their intensity.

Thorne kissed me again, so thoroughly that I forgot the names of the stars in the sky.

I could hardly remember the last time I’d felt this at peace, this happy. And that scared me. It made me wonder if something terrible was about to happen, like it always seemed to whenever things went too right in my life.

Was this wise?

Or was I setting myself up to be left behind with another broken heart?