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Chapter Fourteen

C lover’s cheeks blazed as if she faced the full summer sun. But when she stepped out of the antique shop, she cooled down immediately—a blast of cold air assaulting her.

Her mind whirled, replaying the bizarre conversation she’d just had. After climbing into her van and shutting the door, she stared out the windshield, her eyes fixed on nothing in particular.

Did I just agree to marry a near-complete stranger? This is crazy.

And even though she knew as much, her intuition assured her this was the right choice for her. She’d never ignored her intuition in her entire life. And even when her mind argued with all its power of logic and reason, her intuition always turned out to be right. She’d never once regretted following it.

“I asked for change,” she murmured, her breath visible in the freezing van. “And the gods of summer have provided. I appreciate your blessings. I will not squander this chance you have given me,” she pronounced to whatever entities happened to be listening.

Her heart swelled with excitement and anticipation. A new, untrod path lay before her, and she was nothing if not adventurous.

She smiled as she turned on the van. The decision had been made, and for the first time in a while, everything felt right in her world.

Taking out her phone, she texted Ari—asking for Rhys’s sister Rania’s number.

Ari must have been busy with work because Clover didn’t receive a response until after she was already pulling into the driveway at home.

Clover turned off the van but didn’t climb out. Instead, she thanked Ari and called the number provided.

It was a few rings before a hesitant voice answered.

“Hello…?”

“Hi, is this Rania? This is Clover, Ari’s friend. We met at Rhys’s birthday party earlier this year.”

“Oh! Yes, hello, Clover. How are you?”

“I’m good. Thanks. You mentioned last time that you were studying to be a priestess and you’ve already gotten your license to perform legal marriages. Have you done any handfastings yet?”

Rania’s tone was a little sad. “Not yet. No one I know has needed an officiant, and everyone else just goes to Lady Wanda.”

“Well, I know someone who’s interested in getting married in a hurry. Do you have time in the next few days?”

“What? Really? That’s great! Oh my goddess! Thank you for recommending me. Sure, I have time. Let me see. Um…I have yoga tomorrow morning”—she chuckled—“Actually, I take your brother’s class at his studio. He’s great. Thanks for telling me about it.”

Clover frowned impatiently, wondering if she shouldn’t turn the heat back on. Rania had a way of getting off topic. “No problem. Anything this weekend?”

“Hmm. I’m free Friday night. Does that work?”

“That’s perfect. Where should they go?”

Rania laughed again, the giggle she made when she’d been a little silly or forgetful. “Right. They’re going to need that, huh? If they don’t have a venue, they can come to my apartment. You said they’re in a rush, right?”

“That’s right. Could you text me the time and address, please?”

“Sure, no problem. Oh, gods! I have so much to do if they’re coming here. I’ve got to?—”

“Thanks so much, Rania,” Clover interrupted so she wouldn’t have to sit on the phone for an indeterminate amount of time. “I’ll hop off so you have enough time to do what you need to.”

Rania giggled. “Good idea. Thanks again, Clover. I’ll let you know how it goes.”

Clover shut her phone and started toward the kitchen door. She didn’t feel bad for not telling Rania that she was, in fact, the person getting married. She needed to keep this as quiet as possible for as long as possible, and Rania wasn’t exactly discreet.

Clover wasn’t under any impression that this road would be easy. Why, Llew’s graveyard fiasco had only happened the night before. She wasn’t doing this to heal the rift between the summer and winter factions—or for any higher purpose.

Clover was marrying Whit because it felt right. Whether he was a winter sorcerer, whether her family and friends didn’t approve, it didn’t matter. In her heart—her heart that had felt the warmth of his magic—she knew it was right.

No one would convince her otherwise, but that didn’t mean she wanted to make it harder for herself. In this situation, it was far better to tell everyone after the deed was done, when it was too late for them to try to dissuade her—especially when that would just be a waste of time anyway.

She heard the squeals from inside before she even opened the door. Her mother was sliding a baking sheet of what looked like her famous stuffed lemon cookies into the oven.

“Avast, ye hearties!” Llew called from the living room. “Hoist the sails and flibber the gibbet!”

“Aye, aye, Captain!” Crane answered. “The gibbet be flibbered.”

Clover raised a finger to her lips when Mom looked over at her entrance. She slipped her coat off and hung it on a kitchen chair as she sneaked toward the living room.

Llew was standing on the couch, one foot raised on the arm like Washington crossing the Delaware—his pool-noodle sword raised dramatically.

“What’s all this, then?” Clover demanded. “A mutiny, is it?”

“Zia!” Crane cheered upon seeing her, breaking character to hug Clover. She wore a newspaper hat, an eye patch, and a stuffed velociraptor named Parrot on her shoulder as she always did when they played pirates.

Clover embraced the little girl. “Ciao, stregina,” she said affectionately. Though her family was not Italian, Crane’s father was second generation, so they tried their best to speak what little Italian they knew as much as possible.

“Mutiny! Mutiny, you say?” Llew shouted, puffing out his chest. “What scurvy dog boards my ship and speaks thus?”

Clover stood up straighter. “ Your ship! I think not, you scabby scalawag! It is my ship. I am Captain Tickle, and I have ravaged the seven seas since before you were born!”

Llew pointed his noodle at his sister. “If you would have command of this vessel, then I challenge you to a duel!”

“A sword!” shouted Clover, holding out her hand.

With laughter and sparkling eyes, Crane passed Clover her noodle.

“En garde!” Clover pronounced, lunging toward her brother.