Page 13

Chapter Thirteen

W hit flushed at the look on her face. Clover’s fair cheeks blossomed like pink tulips, and her cornflower blue eyes widened.

Why did I say that? he screamed internally.

Initially, that was why he’d called her to his shop. But then he’d convinced himself not to. That was, until he saw that tower card. Somewhere in his heart, he felt the change the card promised involved him getting evicted. And then when Clover reacted so good-humoredly to discovering her rendezvous the night before had been with a winter sorcerer, it just sort of slipped out of him. He grabbed at it like a kite string that was barely within reach.

But the expression on her face now had him stumbling over his words. “I-I mean… Let me explain. I?—”

“Okay,” she said seriously with a sharp nod.

He squinted at her, uncertainly. “Okay…?”

“Okay. I’ll marry you.”

His mouth dropped open as his insides seized. “You will?”

She gave him a polite smile. “Yes.”

“But…you don’t even know why I asked.” He honestly couldn’t believe it, and he wondered if she was having him on.

“I’m sure you have your reasons,” she said simply.

He’d known he’d never met someone quite like her, but this was next level. “I do have my reasons, and I think it’s important for you to know them.”

She nodded again, patiently waiting to hear what he had to say.

Taking a deep breath in, he sighed heavily, trying to order his thoughts. “You see, the thing is, my grandfather told me that if I don’t marry a witch before the solstice, he’s going to evict me from our ancestral home and will it to my cousin instead. I’m very attached to this house, and I’d like to inherit it as I always thought I would.”

“Okay,” she said again, clearly hearing him though the words didn’t seem to affect her.

Whit hesitated. This all felt way too easy. He knew why he would do something so crazy, but he didn’t know why she would.

“Can I ask why you said yes? I don’t have to tell you we don’t even know each other, not to mention the winter and summer faction stuff.”

Clover’s lips spread into a warm smile. “Because you ordered camellias, and I talked to a crow after we kissed.”

He could hear in her tone that she thought these were omens of some kind. It wasn’t surprising. Many witches felt that way. Whit wasn’t one of them.

“You’d make a life-altering decision like this over a flower I chose at random and a bird you saw on your car?”

Her eyes brightened. “You’d marry a summer witch you don’t know because of a house?”

“A house that I love and has been in my family for generations.”

“A bird who heralds change after I asked for it and a flower that signifies destiny.”

Whit stared at her. From her words, he knew she felt this proposition was part of her fate somehow. His shoulders tensed.

“You…” Everything in him told him not to say it. She’d already agreed. He could easily fulfill his grandfather’s conditions before the solstice. But he said it anyway. “You know I’m not in love with you, right?”

She sighed indulgently as if nothing was more obvious in the world. “I know.”

“You’re not…in love with me, right?”

Clover smiled and shook her head.

“Okay…as long as we’re on the same page.”

Silence settled between them as they stared at each other across the glass display case. “We should…probably keep this a secret until after it’s done. Don’t you think?”

Clover nodded. “I agree. My family would try to stop me for sure.”

Whit’s throat tightened as the word in-laws came to mind.

“Do you know any priestesses?” she asked.

“Do we need a priestess? I thought we’d just go to the courthouse.”

Clover tilted her head. “Will your grandfather count that as a real marriage? If we aren’t spiritually bound?”

Whit frowned. He knew she was right. His grandfather would have enough reticence about her being a summer witch even though it wasn’t against the pact’s terms. “A priestess who’ll marry a winter sorcerer and a summer witch on the sly? No. Winter sorcerers and witches go through a long and thoughtful process before getting married.”

Clover raised an eyebrow. “Do they?”

Whit shrugged. “Usually.”

She hummed, and her eyes grew distant in thought. “I might know someone. She can legally sign the documents, but she’s pretty new to the spiritual ceremony part of it.”

“When can she do it?”

“I can give her a call tonight and find out. We wouldn’t be able to get a license until tomorrow anyway. The County Clerk’s Office is closed or will be soon.”

Whit nodded. “All right. The sooner the better.”

“I’ll let you know later, then. I have your number from the order form.”

With a plan in place, Whit’s mind reeled. Am I really getting married?

He looked down at his fiancée, and the memory of her pressed against him in the dark surfaced in his mind. She’s beautiful.

“Um…” She looked up at him expectantly.

His heart thumped.

She broke into a smile. “You still have to sign for the flowers.”

His face flushed as he reached for the pen. What does it matter if she’s beautiful or not? This is a marriage of convenience. Keep your wits about you. You have your life, and she’ll have hers.

Taking up her clipboard, she tucked her auburn hair behind one ear, then held out her hand. “Well, I guess, I’ll see you later, Whittaker.”

Whit reached toward her, clasping her hand in his. “You can call me Whit.”

Her smile was as sweet as her kiss had been. “Okay, Whit.”

A tingle ran through him when she said his name. Her hand felt small and soft in his.

Her hand slipped away—and he had no reason to stop her—as she clutched her clipboard to her chest. “Don’t forget to put those flowers in some water.”

When she turned and left, he picked up the camellias and brought them to his nose. But all he could smell was the lingering sweetness of her presence.