Page 18 of Must Love Libraries and Libations (Moonshine Hollow #2)

PRIMROSE

S tupid. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

My feet carried me through the empty streets of Moonshine Hollow as the first hint of dawn painted the sky soft pink.

Most of the village was still asleep, which was a blessing since I probably looked exactly like what I was, a woman doing the walk of shame after spending the night with a man who’d just crushed her heart.

Why did I ever think that was a good idea?

Because you’re falling for him.

Because you can see under that stony exterior.

Because the growly creature who just told you it was all a mistake is not who he really is.

That’s his fear talking.

But how can you talk a person out of their fear when they’re committed to it?

The warm glow spilling from The Sconery’s windows drew me in with the promise of comfort and a shoulder to cry on.

I knew Rosalyn wasn’t there. She was off on her own romantic adventure, but I could see Zarina through the glass, her dark curls escaping from their bun as she kneaded dough with more force than strictly necessary.

I wasn’t ready to face my mother yet. The sight of my friend made something tight in my chest finally loosen.

I pushed through the door, the little bell chiming softly. All at once, I was overcome by the smell of spice cupcakes.

“We don’t open for another—” Zarina started, then looked up. When she saw my face, she froze. “Oh, no. Prim, what happened?” she asked, coming around the corner to embrace me.

“I—” I started, then stopped, pressing my lips together as my throat went tight.

I will not cry.

I will not.

But despite my brave face, tears rolled down my cheeks.

“Sit,” she commanded, gesturing to the corner table. “And don’t you dare try to pretend you’re fine.”

I slumped into the chair, finally allowing my shoulders to sag. “I made a terrible mistake.”

“With the gargoyle?” Zarina asked, not even pausing in her kneading.

I nodded.

“Oh, Prim. Did you… I mean, you’re wearing the same dress as yesterday and your hair looks like you’ve been thoroughly mussed.”

Heat flooded my cheeks. “We were…close. Is it that obvious?”

“To me? Yes. To Winifred? Of course. To anyone else? Probably not. What happened?”

“I went to talk about the party, and everything went wrong. We got trapped in a hidden room by a rogue spell.”

“Rogue spell?”

I nodded.

“Interesting. Then…”

“Well, we talked. Really talked. And then we…” I gestured helplessly.

“Had amazing sex?”

“Not exactly, but close. Very close. And I told him I was falling for him.”

“And?”

“He said he was falling for me too.” The words came out thick with hurt. “But then this morning, he said it was all a mistake. That we were under the influence of wine and magic and weren’t thinking clearly. Maybe he was right. I don’t know anymore.”

Zarina sighed heavily. “You need tea,” she said, then went back behind the counter. “Comfort? Clarity? Or should I brew you something that’ll give you the courage to go back there and set his books on fire?”

Despite everything, I laughed. “Comfort, I think. Maybe with a side of clarity.”

She bustled around the kitchen, pulling jars from shelves with practiced ease. “Chamomile for comfort, mint for clarity, a touch of honey blossom for sweetness in bitter times,” she murmured, adding ingredients to a delicate porcelain pot. “And just a pinch of phoenix root for inner fire.”

“Phoenix root? Zarina, that’s expensive.”

“Hush. This is an emergency.” She poured steaming water over the herbs, and immediately the kitchen filled with a scent that was both soothing and invigorating. Returning to the table, she set the cup in front of me. “Now, tell me about this mistake business.”

I wrapped my hands around the warm cup she set before me, breathing in the fragrant steam. “He said people don’t think clearly under magical influence. That we acted on impulses we wouldn’t normally have.”

“Uh-huh. And what do you think?”

“I think he’s scared. He’s been alone for so long. He watches everyone he cares about age and die while he stays the same. I think the idea of caring about someone new terrifies him.”

“Do you want me to tell you what I really think or just say something to make you feel better?”

“Truth.”

“Then, I’m going to say something you might not want to hear.”

“Go ahead.”

“What you just described? Red smoke, my friend. So much red smoke.”

I bristled. “He’s not?—”

“A bad person? Maybe not, but he is a man who’s so scared of connection that he’ll hurt someone to avoid it. That’s a problem. And you know what the biggest problem is?”

“What?”

“He made you doubt yourself. You’re sitting here wondering if your feelings were real, if the connection was real, if you were thinking clearly. He’s got you questioning your own experience.”

I opened my mouth to defend him, then closed it. She wasn’t wrong.

“Here’s the thing about an ‘I can fix him’ situation,” Zarina continued.

“ Sometimes it’s just a fantasy. You’re attracted to a broken man because you think you can heal him, or because you’re trying to fix something inside yourself, or because, on some level, you’re setting yourself up for heartbreak you think you deserve. ”

“You said sometimes …”

Zarina sighed. “Yeah, because sometimes a person really can be fixed. They just need the right person.” She gave me a serious look. “So the question is, which is this? Is he just going to keep running every time things get too real?”

I stared into my tea, watching the herbs swirl. “I don’t know.”

“At least you know what question to ask. You deserve someone who chooses you, Prim. Not someone who panics and calls you a mistake. You are sunshine and magic and joy, and any man who can’t see that doesn’t deserve you. Period.” Her voice was fierce, protective.

“What do I do now?”

“I would give him space. If he comes crawling back with a real apology and a promise to do better, then maybe you consider it. But if he doesn’t…

” She shrugged. “Then you know where you stand. Never chase a man who doesn’t want you.

Chasing him won’t change his mind, and in the process, you lose your dignity. ”

I sipped my tea, feeling the phoenix feather’s fire warming me from within. “You’re right. And, I suppose, if things don’t work out, there’s always Kevin.”

Zarina laughed. “No. It can never be that bad. Kevin is neither red smoke nor green smoke. He’s just…Kevin.”

At that, we both laughed.

“Now, you’ve got a party to throw, and I have about a hundred cupcakes to bake. Are you going to let some emotionally constipated gargoyle ruin your biggest event of the year?”

“Absolutely not.”

“That’s my girl.” Zarina rose and wrapped a still-warm cherry tart in parchment and handed it to me. “For your dad. They’re his favorite.”

“Thank you.”

“And Prim?”

“Yeah?”

“Whatever you decide, make sure you’re choosing what’s best for you, not what’s easiest for him. Make him work for it.”

I stood and hugged her tightly. “Thank you. For the tea, the tart, and the hard truths.”

“Anytime. Now go show this town how to throw a proper party.”

Feeling steadier, I headed to the door and stepped outside into the morning air.

Turning, I made my way from The Sconery toward home.

As I went, I glanced through the window of Winifred’s flower shop next door.

I let out a little squeak of embarrassment when I saw movement inside.

The last thing I needed was for Winnie, the well-intended town gossip, to catch me like this. If she saw me, everyone would know.

As I hurried down the street, I mulled over Zarina’s words. The hurt was still there, but underneath it was something harder, more determined.

Zarina was right.

I deserved someone who chose me.

The question was, what would Erasmus choose?

* * *

My mind was a torrent of thoughts as I made my way home.

When Erasmus wasn’t acting like an ass, he was everything I wanted.

He was strong, handsome, intelligent, and just…

fascinating. And he had kindness in him.

I knew he did. I saw it in the way he treated the bookwyrms and in the way he touched me.

“Ugh, what should I do?” I moaned aloud.

“What’s that?” a voice answered.

I stopped cold and turned, following the sound of the voice. I had been heading home, but somehow, my feet had made a turn to Buttercup Lane. And once more, I was standing in front of Widow Merribell’s pink cottage.

The sun had risen, a bright, rosy-pink sunrise making the sky shimmer with trails of rose gold.

It cast a soft glow on the little cottage, making the flowers sparkle.

Soft pink peonies grew in the flower beds, and gentle porcelain roses had grown wild along the front of the house, their smell perfuming the morning air.

The wild window boxes tugged at my heart for attention.

But standing in the garden was a gnomish man, Mister Underbridge, the foremost estate agent in Moonshine Hollow. He was smiling and looking at me expectantly.

“Mister Underbridge,” I said with a smile. “Sorry about that. Just…ruminating. Good morning to you, sir.”

“Good morning, Miss Windsong. Up and at it early today? Oh, well, with the library birthday party nearly at hand, no doubt you have plenty to do. Everyone in the town is excited.”

“I’m so glad to hear that,” I said, thankful that there was a plausible reason for me to be out this early other than I had spent the night with a man.

I looked at his cart. Inside were the basic tools and equipment.

Then, I spotted the “For Sale” sign that used to hang on the gate.

It was tucked inside the wagon. I gasped.

“Mister Underbridge, has the cottage sold?”

“This cottage?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“Oh, no, indeed it has not. In fact, I came to do some repairs. We’re going to have to put the place up for auction unless that nice couple from Timberton decides to buy. Of course, they only wanted to pay half what?—”

“I want it,” I said, my voice coming out in a rush. “Don’t send it to auction. Don’t sell it to some couple from Timberton. Sell it to me.”

“Miss Windsong?—”

“I’ve been saving my money to put in a bid. I don’t have enough, Mister Underbridge. But, please, don’t send it to auction. Once I’m paid for my work at the library, I will only be ten percent short of what I need.”

“Ten percent, eh?” he said, twitching his lips from side to side as he considered.

“Well, I have been given permission by the estate to negotiate, but ten percent… You know, if you are looking to buy, I have a nice little place down by the river. Ready to move in. The widow’s cottage needs work, inside and out.

That roof needs to be repaired or replaced.

And inside, there’s a lot to be done. Even if I make you a deal, you’ll have nothing left to pay for the repairs. ”

“It’s okay. I’ll set out buckets for rain and do repairs as I go. But I have to have it.”

“Ten percent is a big ask…”

“Oh, Mister Underbridge, Widow Merribell was such a sweet lady. We can’t let her beautiful cottage go to just anyone.

I love this house. I want to spend the rest of my days here.

The last twenty-four hours have been a lesson in knowing what you want.

I am not indecisive. I want this cottage.

What can I do to convince you? Your daughter is getting married, isn’t she?

Bressa? She just got engaged. I heard the news from Winifred.

Make me a deal for the cottage, and I’ll plan the wedding for free.

Please, sir. It’s been a day already. I can’t lose the cottage too. ”

“You’d plan Bressa’s wedding, eh?” he asked, his bushy white eyebrows going up with interest. “Can you get a discount at the vendors? Cake? Dress? The works?”

“I can. They always give me fifteen percent off. And I’ll make sure it’s perfect. Just the way she wants it.”

He grinned, then slipped his hammer into his tool belt and walked toward the gate. “Yes. Yes, indeed. I can do that,” he said, reaching out to shake my hand. “I’ll draw up the papers. You stop by my office.”

“Oh, thank you, Mister Underbridge. Thank you so much!”

“I wasn’t keen on an auction anyway, and that couple from Timberton had been talking about ripping out the garden,” he said with a frown.

From the garden, we both heard audible gasps and shrieks of horror.

The fairies and sprites.

“Don’t worry, Fairy Kin. I will never do that,” I said with a smile. “This is going to be a home. I will love it with all of my heart, and your garden will be perfectly safe with me.”

At that, I heard a tiny chorus of “yays” coming from the dense foliage.

The gnome laughed. “Very good! Well, then, I guess my work is done here. See you at the party, Miss Windsong.”

“And you, sir. Thank you so much. You have no idea what this means to me.”

“Happy we could come to an arrangement.”

“Me too,” I replied, then turned back to the garden. “See you soon,” I called to the fairies, who replied back in a chorus of sweet voices, all replying with, “See you soon.”

I turned and hurried off. Today was turning out to be the best and worst day of my life. I’d gotten close to a man I cared about, had fallen half in love, got dumped, bought a cottage, and now…

Now, I had to go home, where, no doubt, my mother was waiting.

Ugh.

I didn’t know what felt worse, getting dumped or the promise of having to explain why I’d been out all night to my mother.

Either way, I had to go home and change. I had a lot to do and no time to waste.

As for Erasmus, the next move was his. He knew how I felt. I had no idea how he felt. I couldn’t fix that. If he wanted me, he’d have to be prepared to grovel. Even if Kevin was my only option, I would not let that gargoyle make me feel bad for being me.

Some women were born to sparkle. Everyone else just needed to keep up.