Page 9 of Magic & Mochas (Tales of Love & Lore #1)

“The fake ones are nice enough, but they’re no replacement for the real deal. Besides, I wanted to get a few of the tastier ones so that I can add pumpkin spice lattes to the menu.” I trailed my free hand along the flowers that lined the path.

“Are those lattes popular?” Thorne frowned. “I can’t say that I’ve tried one before.”

I stopped dead in my tracks. “Seriously?!”

The ghost of a smile curved his lips. “Seriously.”

“I’ll just have to make you one, then.” I continued along the path. “Tell me you’ve at least tried a latte before.”

Thorne studiously avoided my eyes. “Well…”

“I see I have my work cut out for me.” A laugh bubbled up before I could stop it, and Thorne looked at me in surprise. “But fear not, I plan to make my Italian master proud. I’ll have you singing the praises of espressos, lattes, and mochas alike before I’m through with you.”

“I’ll look forward to that.” Thorne watched me with the strangest expression on his face, but it was gone before I could ask about it.

It suddenly occurred to me that I knew next to nothing about him. And he hardly knew much about me, either. If we were going to play convincing lovers, it would be a good idea to change that.

Our cover was most certainly the only reason. I was definitely not curious about the shadowmancer and his mysterious past.

Once we turned the final corner, the pumpkin patch lay spread out in front of us.

Rows of pumpkins of all different shapes and colors were scattered artfully across the field.

Some were short and round, while others were tall and bulbous.

As we walked down one row, I pointed out to Thorne how some looked like they were made of glitter or glass, and some changed colors every few seconds.

A few had already been claimed by forest sprites, with little doors and windows carved into them and smoke puffing out of their chimney-like stems.

“I didn’t know there were so many magical varieties,” Thorne murmured, his gaze riveted to a purple pumpkin that shimmered with hints of blue and green.

“How about we each pick out three?” I suggested. “Two for the shop and one to keep?”

“In that case…” With a wink, Thorne wandered off, heading for that purple one.

I scanned the patch as well. The first pumpkin I picked was a classic orange, with a golden filigree that shifted designs every few breaths.

For my second, I selected the glass one I had spotted earlier, already planning to give it pride of place on the shop’s countertop, next to the register.

And for my third one, I decided on a dark pumpkin that almost looked like it was carved from darkness, with glimmers of silver and violet light that reminded me of a starry night sky… and a certain someone’s eyes.

I levitated my selection and had them trail behind me like the tail of a kite.

Somehow, Thorne was walking towards me with three pumpkins balanced in his arms. One was the shimmery purple one that matched my usual dress, one looked like it was made of an ocean wave, and the third looked for all the world like a cloud of smoke shaped into the vague form of a pumpkin, and carried the faint scent of apple and cinnamon.

“You picked some great ones.” I nodded approvingly at his armful.

“As did you.” His eyes lingered a beat too long on the shadowy pumpkin.

“Let’s take them to Thistle—she’ll hold them for us in the back until we’re ready to leave.” I glanced at him askance. “Aren’t you going to use your shadows to carry those? Or do you want me to levitate them for you?”

“Thank you, but I can manage.” When I looked at him questioningly, he lowered his voice and explained, “Keeping a low profile, remember?”

I nodded, and led the way to the quaint little barn that housed Thistle’s shop, which was packed with seeds and knick-knacks for sale. There was a lilac-haired fae girl managing the till.

“I love your hair color,” I complimented her, as I handed over my pumpkins, and Thorne did the same.

“Thank you. You two make a lovely couple, by the way.” She beamed at me, showing off her sharp canines, and twirled a lock of hair around her finger.

Leaning in like she was about to share a secret, she whispered, “I recommend heading over to the cider house soon—they tend to run out around four o’clock. ”

“Thanks for the tip. We’ll head there first before we visit the maze.” Without thinking, I grabbed Thorne’s hand and towed him towards the cider house before he could see the blush on my cheeks.

At least our ruse was working.

The cider house was packed when we got there.

All of the tables that crowded the inside of the building were taken, and there was even a line at the counter to order.

Two dryads were busily preparing the drinks, and another two were handing out freshly-made apple cider donuts, which were covered in cinnamon sugar.

We quickly hopped in line, and I enjoyed taking deep breaths of the warm, spice-laden air.

“I think she told that secret to everyone,” Thorne murmured against the shell of my ear, sending shivers down my spine.

“Looks that way,” I answered. “Though the cider is always popular this time of year.”

“Maybe we should add it to the menu, then.”

I loved the way he said we.

My sense of contentment evaporated the moment I heard the person ahead of me in line speak. I stiffened, and instinctively took a step back—right into Thorne. He steaded me with a hand at my waist, his gaze immediately snapping up, as if to scan for threats.

“What’s wrong?”

“Those are Rasmus’ parents ahead of us in line,” I whispered so quietly my lips barely moved. For a fleeting moment, I seriously considered beating a hasty retreat.

“Do you want to leave?” There wasn’t so much as a hint of judgment or censure in his tone.

I was tempted. But wouldn’t that defeat the purpose of my arrangement with Thorne? “No.”

Thorne’s eyes lit with wicked amusement, and he leaned down to whisper against my ear, “Then how about we put on a little show for them?”

I almost protested. Almost. But then I remembered their disapproving stares at every dinner I’d had the misfortune of sitting through at their table. “Let’s make it good.”

To my surprise, Thorne then tightened his grip on my waist, pulling me flush against him, and delicately grasped my chin. His violet eyes dropped to my lips a moment before he claimed my mouth with his.

At first, his lips were gentle, searching. He teased my mouth with caresses while his thumb stroked slow circles on my lower back. But then, his kisses became more urgent, more demanding. The scent of cinnamon mixed with his own scent of pine in a heady combination that wreathed my senses.

I practically swooned.

My eyelids fluttered shut as he caressed my lips, and I wrapped my arms around his neck, tangling my fingers in his dark hair. I was enjoying myself so much that I didn’t even want to come up for air.

But when I heard an odd, strangled noise next to us, my eyes snapped open. Thorne gave me a lazy grin that set butterflies loose in my stomach.

“Clove?!” gasped my former mother-in-law to be. “What on earth are you doing? You’re engaged to my son!”

It would seem Rasmus hadn’t even told his parents yet. Was that why he had come all the way to Willowmere? To win me back before they found out what he’d done?

I smiled. That option was now off the table for Rasmus. Hopefully, that meant he would leave me alone now.

“Didn’t you hear, Bellatrix? The wedding’s off.” I was proud of how steady my voice was.

“What? When? Why?!” Her face pinched in confusion and outrage.

“Ask your liar of a son,” I said, before turning to Thorne. “Let’s get out of here. Something smells sour.”

I turned on my heel and left, hand-in-hand with Thorne, leaving Bellatrix to sputter indignantly behind us.