Page 43 of Perfectly Petite Shorts (Perfect Pixie)

Squeezing my hand, Todrik nodded before taking a hesitant step toward me. His next was surer as we slipped through the doorway I’d created.

I ’d never had a house guest before. I’d never even had a pet—be it Earthly or Fairy. Having Todrik in my space was…different. I was still trying to sort out if it was a good type of different or not. Having him close where I could keep an eye on him had certainly eased the pressure in my chest.

Todrik seemed surprised by the, as he termed it, simplicity of my home.

He had assumed my tastes ran to the ostentatious, although he had also commented that he should have known better after seeing how sparse my office was.

Considering how little time I spent in that space, I saw no need to embellish it.

My home was different than the office. Without permission, I could not bring Todrik to my home in Fairy, so I’d brought him to my earthly residence.

My home had but one bedroom as there was no need for more.

There was a single bath, a functional kitchen, and a small resting space with a wood-burning fireplace.

A few fairies had visited now and again, typically when something was needed.

They’d termed my home quaint. I had no idea if they were correct nor did I care.

Their opinions meant next to nothing, and yet I found myself anxious regarding Todrik’s.

“Wow,” Todrik said, that word more whispered awe than excitement.

“The grounds are stunning.” He was on the back patio, staring into the woods.

“It’s so wild and…free.” He inhaled, pulling the clean air deep into his lungs, expanding his chest. “Jamila would have loved it here.” Sadness filled his words.

“My fairy affinity is reflected in my surroundings.” I was at my strongest when surrounded by plant life. It only made sense to make certain my home was situated where I was at my best.

“I get that, but this is next level. I think I could sit out here all day and never tire of the view.” Todrik walked farther onto the deck, sitting on its edge, legs dangling. “Can I put my dirt out here?” he asked, craning his neck to look up at me.

“You may place it wherever you like.”

His cheeks pinked. “Thank you. I appreciate that. I just… You’ll let me know if I’m fucking something up, right? I don’t want to be in your way or be an ungrateful houseguest.”

“Do not worry. I will inform you if I find your presence irritating.” It wasn’t exactly a lie, but I wasn’t certain it was entirely truthful either.

Typically, I would have no problem telling another exactly what I thought of their presence.

I had a feeling that was not accurate when it came to Todrik.

I had a nagging need to please and comfort him.

It was foolish to believe his needs would always match my own wants and desires.

“Okay. But you better.” Todrik wagged a harmless finger my direction. Turning his head, Todrik stared out at the landscape. “I see some cherry trees out there. More than a few.”

“They bloomed earlier this season.”

“Hmm…I suppose so. It’s odd. Now that I’m a dryad, the seasons mean nothing to me.” Holding out his hand, Todrik’s fingers lengthened into woody branches, leaves and blossoms exploding from their length. “I can bloom anytime I wish. At first it was strange. ”

“And now?”

Todrik shrugged. “Now it seems as natural as breathing.” Feet kicking back and forth, Todrik leaned back on his hands. “I should contact Lilibeth.”

“The brownie.” Todrik had explained who Lilibeth was when I accepted his case. “Why?”

“She visits sometimes, and I don’t want her to run into Sage or Jessup. I don’t want her to get hurt.”

“You are concerned about a brownie being unable to protect themselves against humans?” The very notion was absurd.

“No. I mean, maybe.” Todrik huffed. “I know brownies are tough, that they—”

“Brownies are a little more than tough .”

“I get that.”

I seriously doubted he did. Few understood just how dangerous a vengeful brownie could be. Queen Silvidia made certain every fairy realized the importance of keeping the peace.

“Lilibeth is nice, and I…I don’t want her to have to listen to the same kind of bullshit I had to last night. I mean, they can say crap about me, but Jamila… That was uncalled for. She’s their mom, for Gaia’s sake. You’d think that would mean something.”

I considered my own parentage. I could not recall the last time I spoke with my mother or father.

My distance was not due to any contempt.

It was merely how things were done. Fairies lived incredibly long lives.

We moved here and there, and we were fiercely independent.

Children were rare. They were also precious and cared for.

My parents were very loving when I’d been a child.

It was not that their love had necessarily dimmed but had changed.

Todrik’s kicking feet stilled, and he sat forward before slumping, elbows on knees. “Why do you think Jamila left the land to those two? Knowing what they’re like, I… She had to have known what they’d do. Or at least that they wouldn’t appreciate it like she did.”

Tired of staring at little more than the crown of Todrik’s head and feeling the odd need to be closer, I sat beside him. Within a second, Todrik’s smaller frame leaned against me, his head resting on my shoulder. I had no experience comforting another, and yet that is all I longed to do.

“I have no idea why your witch left the land to them. Perhaps she hoped they would grow to love it as she did. Maybe it was her final, desperate attempt to instill a bit of herself into her children.”

Todrik sighed while leaning more of his weight against me. “Do you really think so? I mean, that sounds like something Jamila might do…or at least how she might have hoped things would play out.”

“As I said, I do not know. Considering I never met Jamila, you know her far better than me. If you believe it is plausible, then so be it.”

Todrik’s body shook against me. I was nearly beside myself thinking he was crying, but soon soft chuckles drifted into the air as his laughter danced free. “Gaia, you suck at consoling others.”

A frown tugged my lips. “Apologies. Consoling others is not something I am familiar with.”

Todrik squeezed my bicep, twisting his head so I could look into his pale green eyes.

His light pink eyelashes kissed his cheeks when he blinked, and his peach-colored lips were soft with his gentle grin.

“I know. That’s what makes your current efforts with me mean so much.

Thank you, Hamish. You’re not at all who I thought you were. ”

As Todrik’s eyelashes fluttered closed, I watched his peaceful expression soften to slumber. Todrik was wrong. I was exactly who he’d thought I was. At least, that is who I was with everyone else. That wasn’t who I wanted to be with him.

T odrik

I woke with another headache. It was probably the same one I’d gone to bed with, the same one I’d had for the last six days.

Rolling to the side, I flung my arm out only to find the bed empty.

I’d learned that Hamish rarely slept. He said time moved differently on Earth than in the Fairy realm and that he didn’t need a lot of rest while here.

My fingers bunched the silken sheets, balling them up and squeezing tight.

It was strange how quickly I’d gotten used to Hamish’s presence.

When he was gone, I missed him, and when he was here, it was like we’d known each other all our lives instead of a mere two weeks.

So far, Hamish hadn’t acted like I was a bother. Quite the opposite.

Despite my odd fatigue, I grinned at the thought. While I missed my land, staying with Hamish hadn’t been a hardship. I only wished I felt well enough to enjoy my stay. I desperately wanted to wander Hamish’s land but couldn’t seem to muster the energy to do so.

I’d thought bringing my dirt here would be enough. It was for most dryads. Maybe I was different?

I had no idea what time it was. The sun was shining brightly outside so it had to be at least late morning.

Early morning was one of my favorite times of day, but the last few days I’d slept too late to enjoy the sun’s early rays.

Even now I found it difficult to stir. I had no appetite, no pep, and absolutely no desire to do anything but lay in bed.

“I need to get up,” I said to the empty air.

I wasn’t sure why that was true. Hamish didn’t need my help with my case, and there was little else for me to do.

I’d offered to clean, cook, or do something else Hamish might find helpful, but he’d rebuffed every offer.

He’d said knowing I was safe was enough.

My cheeks heated. Thoughts of Hamish often did that now.

He was so much kinder than I’d originally thought.

Although, kinder might not be the right word.

Hamish was gentler with his words, or at least more cautious.

I got the feeling he put a lot of thought into his words and actions, like he was attempting to be more considerate when it came to me and that it was difficult for him.

I think that’s what got under my skin. It wasn’t easy for Hamish, yet he was making the effort.

That meant something. What that something was, I wasn’t entirely certain.

I’d caught more than a few interesting expressions when Hamish didn’t think I was watching.

I got the feeling I puzzled him or that there was something about me that he found curious.

He had a fierce desire to protect me that I didn’t understand.

I couldn’t believe he typically brought others into his home.

Granted, I wasn’t certain how many cases he’d had where his client had been threatened, but I hardly believed I was the only one.