Page 13 of Must Love Libraries and Libations (Moonshine Hollow #2)

PRIMROSE

I left the library with a basket of party notes and a head full of confusion.

One minute, I’d been pressed against a granite chest, with sweet and warm lips pressed against mine.

The kiss had made my stomach knot and my head spin.

It had felt like…like a beginning. The next moment, however, he’d dismissed it as nothing.

And I’d let him.

Why had I let him?

The sun was bright over Moonshine Hollow as I walked through town, but I felt like a storm cloud was trailing me.

I still had errands to attend to…party notices to have delivered, tent rentals to confirm, lanterns to request, musicians to hire, flowers to order, and a visit to The Sconery to finalize the dessert order.

I decided to head to The Sconery first. Comfort in a cup of tea and a friend to talk to was the perfect solution to my muddled mind.

The warm spice-and-sugar scent of The Sconery wrapped around me the moment I stepped inside.

Soft music played, filling the room with a relaxing vibe.

Bright zinnias in canning jars topped the round café tables.

On the shelves, old teapots in a variety of colors brought a sweet charm to the place.

Behind the counter, Zarina, the kitchen witch assistant who ran The Sconery when Rosalyn wasn’t there, was up to her elbows in flour.

Her black curls were dusted white. A bowl floated in the air beside her, the whisk working vigorously.

“Primrose!” she called cheerfully, flicking her wrist to send dough spinning into a baking tin. “How is my favorite party planner doing? Any success with the sample tasting?”

I forced a smile. “The bookyrms helped. We settled on cupcakes with spice cake and apple frosting.”

“Perfection. I’ll be ready!”

“Thank you, Zarina.”

“So, you won the battle of the cake. Headed back to do battle tomorrow?”

I nodded. “Unfortunately.”

“You might want to consider a little…muffin diplomacy.”

“Muffin diplomacy?”

“I have a fresh batch of magical mini muffins. Mood-soothers. Perfect for cranky creatures with authority issues.”

“Do they come in ‘let me have a party inside the library’ flavor?”

“That’s the blueberry.”

I laughed.

“I thought I heard a familiar voice.” Juniper appeared from the back with two baskets of herbs dangling from her arms. The sweet scents of mint, basil, and rosemary reached me from across the room. She smiled at me, then turned to Zarina. “Where would you like these?”

“Just there.” Zarina gestured with her chin to the sink. “And there’s your order.”

“Thank you,” Juniper said, leaving the herbs and grabbing a massive basket of bread. She then joined me at the counter and fixed me with a thoughtful look. “You look…distressed? Elated? I can’t make it out.”

“Horny,” Zarina said definitively, making us both laugh.

“Confused, distressed, happy, miserable, elated, and vaguely horny, yes.”

“Color me intrigued,” Zarina said, setting aside her work and joining us.

“What happened, Prim?” Juniper asked, gently placing her hand on my arm. “Are you all right?”

“Yes,” I said with a confused sigh. “The gargoyle and I had…a moment.”

“A moment?” Zarina asked, raising an eyebrow.

At that, even the nearby zinnias perked up and leaned in, as if to hear better.

“No eavesdropping and no telling Winifred,” I told them, referring to the busybody florist—but also my friend—who had her shop next door. “There’s really nothing to tell, and I don’t want anyone else to know. There was a moment, a kiss. He said it was nothing, but I can’t stop thinking about it.”

Zarina shook her head. “Sounds like a typical man to me. Confused. Not sure how he feels. Not ready to commit…blah, blah, blah.”

Juniper’s eyes softened. “Sometimes feelings don’t arrive neatly labeled.”

I smiled faintly. “He’s so…infuriating. I was enraged when I kissed him. And kissing him was like kissing a storm cloud. A very muscular, good-smelling, and attractive storm cloud. I hated and loved every moment.”

“What will you do?” Juniper asked.

“For now, have a cup of tea, pretend it didn’t happen, and go make sure I have everything else for the party ordered and the announcements sent out.”

“So, he agreed to the party?” Juniper asked, a surprised tone in her voice.

I nodded. “An outdoor party, yes. Nothing inside. He…compromised.”

Juniper and Zarina shared a look.

“That’s unexpected,” Juniper said. “Master Erasmus is not known for compromising.”

“No, he’s not,” Zarina agreed. “He’s known for being a pig-headed grump. But you must have gotten under his skin…and then some,” Zarina said with a grin.

“He said it was nothing,” I reminded her.

“Mmm-hmm,” Zarina said, giving Juniper a knowing wink.

“He’s insufferable,” I said, then blew air through my lips. “I need to stop thinking about it. It was an angry nothing. Let me get a tea to go. I have so much work to do.”

“How can I help?” Juniper asked.

“I can’t face Winifred. She’ll nose it out at once, and I don’t know what to say. Can you pass along the flower order for me?”

She nodded. “Of course.”

“Thank you,” I said, then reached into my basket and found the scroll for Winifred, which I handed to Juniper. I then studied her breadbasket. “What’s with all the bread?”

“Oh,” she said with a light laugh. “Granik and I are having a sandwich party when he finishes work tonight.”

“A sandwich party?” I asked.

“Yes,” Juniper said, smiling. “Just a silly idea we came up with.”

“Hmm,” I said, meeting Zarina’s gaze.

It was her turn to wink at me, but Juniper missed it entirely.

“That sounds nice,” I told her.

“Silly but fun. I should be going,” she said, then patted my shoulder once more. “I don’t know what that kiss meant, but I can tell you that I truly believe the stars will align to bring you what you need. And what you need is not Kevin.”

At that we both laughed.

With that, Juniper gave me a wave and headed off, flower order and breadbasket in tow.

Zarina readied my drink while I gazed out the window. I hoped the stars aligned for me soon, because right now, my options were a potato man who bored me to tears and a stone-hearted creature who enraged me…and left me infuriatingly aroused.

Was either a real option?

* * *

After spending the rest of the day running from place to place to attend to all the orders, sending announcements to all the message boxes in Moonshine Hollow and the farms thereabout, selecting a menu from The Rose Garden, my favorite Moonshine Hollow restaurant, and sampling enough wine that my head was spinning, I finally headed home.

My feet hurt, I was exhausted, and all I wanted to do was rest. I felt elated that I’d won the battle and the party was on, but defeated by the idea that the kiss meant nothing .

Too confused to face my mother yet, I detoured on my way home and headed down Buttercup Lane to the pink cottage.

The dusty windowpanes shimmered under the late afternoon summer sun.

The garden was a sweet-smelling rosy delight.

Bright pink and purple foxgloves lined the walk.

I caught sight of a sprite working on cleaning the mossy bird bath before it sprinted away.

A pair of fairies flitted around the overgrown clematis growing on the arbor.

Giggling, they chased a dragonfly away. From the very back of the property, I could catch the scent of ripe blackberries.

The unruly blackberry bushes were absolutely loaded with them.

I rested a hand on the gate’s latch.

The gate creaked softly open, as if the cottage was inviting me in.

I had to make the party work. The payment for planning the event would put me this close to having enough coin to at least try to negotiate for the cottage.

I was ready for a place of my own. I really needed to get out of my parents’ house.

But more, I just wanted to be somewhere…

soft. I wanted to come home to a place that brought me peace.

I closed my eyes and let myself dream.

I saw neat rows of herbs blooming in the raised beds, the scents of basil, mint, and lavender lingering on the breeze.

I envisioned a steaming teacup sitting on a long garden table alongside a basket of scones from The Sconery.

And then I saw myself, apron-clad, laughing as I conjured bubbles for my children, who ran in circles around me.

And sitting on the porch in a sun-dappled chair, sleeves rolled up, a small child nestled in his arms, was…

Erasmus. The baby had a tuft of curly black hair, stone-colored skin, pointed elven ears, and little wings folded tightly against its back.

The child reached for a passing bubble, laughing as the bubble bobbed past. Erasmus smiled and kissed the baby on the head, then looked up at me, his eyes full of pure love.

I blinked, startled.

What?

I shook my head, but my cheeks reddened.

No. No way was that ever going to happen.

Annoyed by the gargoyle’s intrusion into my fantasy, I turned and made my way away from the cottage and the vision.

Nope. Not possible. Not remotely possible, and very dangerous for me to be imagining. The last thing I need is to fall for an infuriating man who kissed me then dissed me. Nope. Not happening.

But as much as I mentally protested, the vision clung to me, soft and warm as a late-summer breeze.

* * *

I slipped through the front door of the house just in time to hear my mother’s voice drifting from the parlor.

“And the trim! Like a tutu on a drapery rod. I couldn’t let her go on like that. The whole village can see those curtains. I told her. I said, ‘Sylvia, your windows look ready for ballet.’”

Peering around the corner, I saw poor Bilbi was fast asleep—or at least pretending to be—as my mother regaled the dog with all the latest town gossip. For once, I was glad she was so loud. I was able to slip past her more easily.

“And the color!” she began once more. “Pale blue. I mean, really. Pale blue…” and on and on she went.

I slipped up the stairs to my bedroom, but I was surprised when I opened the door and found my father sprawled across my bed reading a gardening almanac.

“Hi, Pumpkin,” he said casually, not looking up.

“What are you doing?” I asked, confused.

“Reading about enchanted compost,” he said, then lowered the book, looking at me over his round spectacles. “She never looks for me in your room.”

I chuckled.

My father swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood, tucking the book under his arm. “I’ll head out that way,” he said, pointing to the window. “Less chance of being recruited to rearrange the spice cabinet.”

My father opened my bedroom window, then whispered to the tree in Elvish. A branch lowered to meet him.

Moving spryly, he stepped out the window toward it.

“Careful, Dad.”

He grinned at me, then paused, tilting his head as he studied me. “You’ve got a sparkle about you. Something going on?”

“Nothing! I’m fine,” I said too quickly and too loudly.

My father grinned knowingly. “You want me to meet your beau?”

“My what? No. No, no. There’s no beau.”

“If you say so,” he said with a grin, then slipped off the ledge and into the tree like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Elves.

But…beau? Beau!