Page 45 of Sweets and Sycamores
YOU’RE SMITTEN
Allie refused to let Sam’s presence mess with her mood more than it already had. She allowed herself to feel sad and process the pain and rage of her past for the next few days, even if her boss kept her occupied during the day, as well as at night.
Dominic had Allie practice jumping through fire hoops that turned smaller and narrower every night to help her deal with the fear of getting burned. The night she stepped into that huge fire had been a win for Allie, but not enough to casually put her hand in any nearby flames.
Recently, since she was quicker to finish her bakery tasks, Allie stole half an hour every morning to walk around town and guess at places a Witch would put her curses on.
She suggested some isolated areas in Sycamore Falls for Dom to check the magic disruption, but they had all been frustrating dead ends.
Into the middle of the week, Dominic and Allie were hard at work decorating Dom’s Sweets, inside and out.
They had missed the weekend the entire town decorated for Hallows Eve, and last week they’d been crazy busy catching up on the piled-up orders.
This week, they were out of excuses and both exasperated by every customer who came in and pointed at the lack of holiday spirit in the place.
Allie knew it was just a matter of time before Dom exploded and kicked someone out, so that morning she waited for him, coffees ready, hands on her hips, and demanded they start decorating the place.
Her boss halfheartedly agreed, less due to a secret love for Hallows Eve and more knowing that it would get everyone off his back.
Dom retrieved two boxes labeled “Hallows Eve stuff” from the storage room, and Allie dug through them curiously. She found fake spider webs, bones that formed tall skeletons, sticky bats and spiders, a couple of black cat statues, and strings of hanging candles.
“These are great!” She pulled the decorations out of the boxes, glancing at Dom, who scowled at one of the cat statues as if it hissed at him. “Can we also carve pumpkins and make jack-o'-lanterns?” Allie asked with the enthusiasm of a child, forgetting for a minute who she was talking to.
Dominic studied her with unblinking eyes. Allie should know better by now. He did not seem like a man who would carve pumpkins. Yet he surprised her by saying, “Sure. Whatever you want.”
Allie’s heart raced, and she clapped her hands with delight.
“So…” Dominic cleared his throat, looking uncomfortable. “Why do Witches like Hallows Eve this much?”
“Really?” Her eyes widened, immediately filled with joy to share this with Dom.
Allie talked while they decorated the inside of the shop.
“It’s different for all of us, and it depends on the Witch’s power.
Some love it because it’s the night when the veil between worlds is the thinnest.” Allie shuddered at the thought.
“Some love it because magic is at its strongest, and they get to experiment with spells made possible by this increased magic. Others love it because their visions are most clear during Hallows Eve night.” Allie’s voice was strained as she rose onto her tiptoes to reach the corner of a painting and hang a piece of web around it.
Strong hands grabbed her waist and lifted her in the air. Allie gasped, covering her mouth with her free hand.
“Why do you love it?” Dom spoke into her back, face buried into her purple sweater.
Allie fumbled with the web, the stupid thing evading her trembling fingers.
It took her a while to get it in place, but Dominic was a concrete statue around her, not moving or asking her to hurry up.
Eventually, he put her down, but his hands lingered on her waist, turning her skin into goosebumps.
“I…” She turned to face him slowly, his hands still on her middle.
She rested her palms on his lower arms. “Because my mom had a unique tradition for Hallows Eve, and every year I prayed for my power to manifest so I could do it with her.” Allie swallowed the rocks that threatened to close her throat.
“She was also an elemental Witch, and she used the night’s magic to balance out her power: if she had used too much during the year, she could charge herself.
If she had extra, she would give some back.
” At Dom’s confused look, Allie added, “It’s like feeding the moon with your excess power. It’s balance.”
“Sounds like a great tradition,” Dom whispered. “I’m sorry you didn’t get to do it with your mom.” Allie offered him a small smile, tightening her grip on his arms.
“I know she’ll be there with me, but…I still don’t want to do it alone.” Her eyes lowered to Dom’s tree tattoo, and she traced the thick, inky branches with her index finger. “This is a great tattoo,” she muttered, bewitched by the colorless image that looked so good and told so much.
“I’ll be there with you, if you want,” Dom offered. His green eyes followed her greedy finger around his skin. “I’ve always felt like the trees here gave me the power to become a Mage. With my missions, I’ve traveled all around the world, yet my power is never fuller, stronger than it is here.”
Allie smiled. “I’d love to share the Hallows Eve night tradition with you.”
She would love nothing more than continuing her mom’s tradition with Dom by her side. The Mage smiled softly and nodded his agreement.
Dominic was on his way out of Mia’s shop when he ran into Brandon.
His sister wanted to hear all about the altercation rumored to have happened between him and Jared last weekend.
The people of Sycamore Falls had a way with words, and the scene had been twisted horrifically into a bloody fistfight.
Mia listened to the true story, including parts he’d learned from Allie about the scum of the earth, then proceeded to swear colorfully in her mother tongue for at least ten minutes.
She threatened Jared’s presence in her store, promising to sic the hungriest books on him if he ever had the audacity to show his face.
“Morning, Dom,” Brandon said, his eyes roaming around the bookstore. Something had been going on between Brandon and Mia for a while, but it wasn’t his business. It would become his business if Mia got hurt, but Brandon was his best friend and knew better than that.
“Did you save me some pumpkins for carving?” Dom asked.
“What? Are you running a fever again?” Brandon inquired, his interest switching from the shop to his friend. “You have never, not once, asked me to save you carving pumpkins. Ever. Do I need to remind you in how many years since we’ve known each other, you have not asked me to do that?”
Dom knew his friend was babbling some nonsense, but he heard nothing since Allie came out of the bakery across the street and meandered around the yard, sweeping the leaves and rearranging the spider web on the door for the thousandth time.
“Ah, that’s why you want pumpkins now,” Brandon mused. “You’re smitten.”
“You’re ugly.”
“Is this how you talk to your pumpkin provider?”
“Did you want me to say please?” Dom raised his eyebrows.
“Four okay?” Brandon took out a small notepad and a pencil.
“Six.”
“You’re really smitten, then.”
“I really, really am,” Dom admitted, his eyes still trailing Allie around the yard. She looked like she belonged there, surrounded by the fall colors that matched her hair. Next to his bakery. With him.
Brandon clapped him on the shoulder. “Really glad about all these reallys, Dom.”
The day before the weekend was eerily quiet, and Allie spent her downtime in the bakery reading up on “Baking for Dummies.” It was, of course, easier and much more enjoyable when Dom was teaching her in the kitchen, but Allie had slacked on enriching her knowledge on her own.
She was flipping through “no-bake recipes” when Mia walked in, clad in a denim jacket with a thick scarf around her neck, brown leather boots, and jeans similar to Allie’s.
“Come with me to Harper’s coffee shop this weekend,” Mia said, leaning over the counter and sticking her nose in Allie’s book.
“Her pumpkin spice latte special is finally for sale. Later than it was supposed to be,” she muttered.
“Besides. You’ve been here, what? Almost six weeks now?
” Allie did the quick math and nodded, ignoring the pang of anxiety that came with the thought of her seven-week deadline. “And you’ve never been to Harp’s.”
Mia had a point, but Allie couldn’t help but think about the reasons she kept more to herself during her time here.
For one, she had been very busy with work.
A huge part of her free time went to practicing, especially before she got her power under control.
But if she were honest with herself, Allie hadn’t frequented these places because she felt like it wasn’t her place.
Witches didn’t join activities, or go to restaurants, or participate in society more than sourcing potions, doing Readings, or anything else their magic could contribute to someone’s life.
They were cunning creatures, and they lived socially only amongst themselves.
But Allie did not want to be like that.
“I’d love to,” she told Mia. Her happy smile was worth however many sneers and scowls she’d get by going with her.
“Hey, Dom!” Mia shouted, angling her head to peer down the narrow hallway. Her brother stepped out of the kitchen, his black apron dusted with flour and speckled with dough, hands up like a surgeon’s, covered with something gooey.
“What?” His question was less barked than usual, and Allie smiled at seeing him soften for Mia. Dominic blew a wild lock of deep brown hair out of his face. Once. Twice.
Allie chuckled. “Come here.” As if under a spell, Dom leaned toward her, then checked himself, confusion filling his beautiful green eyes.
Allie twirled his hair around her finger, which was entirely selfish and totally unnecessary, then placed the naughty strand behind his ear, combing it with her fingers to make sure it stayed put. “There.”
Mia cleared her throat loudly, making them flinch and veer away from each other.
“We’re going to Harp’s this weekend. Come with us,” Mia told more than asked her brother, pinning him with a daunting look.
“Brandon and I are going to the Sanders’ this weekend.”
“After you’re back, then,” she said with a dramatic eye roll.
“Fine.” Dom turned back to the kitchen, though not before moving his eyes over Allie’s face, down her neck, over her sweater, and back up.
“He’s in a good mood,” Mia noted. “Any ideas why?”
“None whatsoever,” Allie lied, but she couldn’t contain her smile, or the way her cheeks heated. “Let me tell you about this recipe.”
Allie’s attempt to draw Mia’s attention to anything other than her brother failed spectacularly, and Mia dragged her out of the bakery, shouting to Dom that she was stealing Allie for a walk. A string of grumbles followed them out the door from the back of the shop.
They strolled down Maple Street to the huge park where the Harvest Festival would take place next week.
It felt like yesterday Allie had followed Mia here to sign them up for the best booths.
The weather had gotten colder and the days shorter, but Allie loved every minute of it.
She was still in awe of the burnt orange landscape, the clean, crisp air, and the chilly mornings with her hot cups of coffee.
Her favorite discovery was stepping on crunchy leaves, so she would sometimes walk funny to get the best ones.
“What’s on your mind?” Mia asked her.
“I just love this place,” Allie sighed. “Despite everyone counting the minutes until I leave.”
“Pfft.” Mia waved a hand. “Don’t worry about that. People here hate outsiders, period. I know, I know. Your witchy roots don’t help, but still.” Her friend nudged her. “You could always stay longer, amiga.”
Allie had a thousand arguments against that statement, all flocking to her mind at once. Yet none broke free because she still had a little time left here, and she did not want to waste any moment thinking about what waited for her after she left Sycamore Falls.
She smiled at Mia and changed the subject, and her friend did not bring it up again.
They checked the two booths for Mia’s and Dom’s shops, and the Archivist took note to bring extra shelves for the discounted books for the festival. Allie inspected the bakery booth, amazed by the space and the display case carved into it.
“It’s turning out really well,” Allie exclaimed.
Two long rows of booths faced each other, and nestled between them were wooden tables and benches, a few chairs, and bins.
Poles were being installed to accommodate the fairy lights.
A myriad of hay bales were scattered around, surrounded by and piled with different kinds of pumpkins.
It was still a work in progress, but Allie could see the magic that would come to life once everything was done.
“What’s going on there?” She pointed to the eastern side of the park, where a huge red and white striped vinyl canvas covered the ground.
“They’re putting up a canopy to create a dance floor. There will be a band, and their instruments need to be covered in case of rain.”
Allie thought about the last time she had been on the dance floor. With Dom. The flirtatious comments that transpired between them.
She only had two weeks left here, so she should be honest with him. Would it be the end of the world if Dom rejected her? Probably. But she would go back to Pearls Fields and forget about her embarrassment. With time.
The alternative, where he would not reject her, made all the hypothetical pain worth it, and her stomach filled with butterflies.
It was decided, then.
Allie would tell Dom how she felt when he returned from his trip with Brandon.