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33

Mor

It’s a few days after the destructive thunderstorm, and I’m pleasantly tipsy.

When my siblings and I were officially invited to join the Folk Haven coven, I expected meetings to take place late in the evening, maybe under a full moon.

Turns out, they happen over Sunday brunch.

Witches like pomegranate mimosas.

I’m sporting not a full buzz, but a little bubbly feeling when I return from the monthly get-together.

The outing was much needed after the stress of cataloguing the repairs my home needs.

Luckily, my room was the only one to take true damage, mainly because of Bo’s quick reaction.

But sleeping in a spare room as opposed to my tower for the last few nights has me sad, especially whenever I think about how long it’ll take me to arrange for contractors to come out to my library.

Instead of going inside, I meander down to the dock, sit cross-legged on the edge, and stare out at the glimmering water.

“The window is done.”

I jerk in surprise at the unexpected voice, turning to find Bo standing on the shore with his hands tucked in his pockets.

“You mean it’s covered?” I ask, shielding my eyes against the sun.

“Like, you nailed some plywood over it?” That’s somehow more depressing than the idea of plastic stretching over the hole.

“No. It’s a skylight again. Wanna come see?”

“I … do.”

Being in my bedroom with Bo is not going to help me subdue the growing attraction I have toward him, but I can at least keep a handle on my actions.

No matter how close we get to my bed, I will not launch myself at him.

I have self-control.

At least I think I do.

Truth is, I’ve never been tested before.

Bo waves for me to lead the way through the house, even though he’s the one who has something to show me.

He claimed that it’s fixed?

How did he get a window here so fast?

The skylight is not a normal shape, and Folk Haven is kind of off the beaten path.

Curious, I climb the steep steps to my tower room.

The furniture did not sustain any damage, only had to be cleaned and dried.

Now everything is arranged as it once was, no sign of any construction having gone on.

My eyes track upward, and I gasp.

There is a window, but that seems like too tame of a word to describe the beautiful piece in place of what was once just clear glass.

The largest sections are still simple transparent glass, which I appreciate because I would have missed the stars.

But curling around the edge is a thorny vine that ends in a delicately blooming rose.

My favorite flower.

My favorite scent.

Did he know?

“I’m sorry,” Bo mutters.

“I should’ve asked first.”

In theory, yes, he should have.

But in practice, the piece is wondrous, and I have no notes.

“How?” I gasp the question.

“Well, you know, Ophelia is good with glass. She makes it with her fire and sand. And she partnered with this werewolf, Manny, who welds these metal art pieces. Learned how from Novac, turns out. Plus, Manny is mated to a witch named Blossom, and she loves your library.” Bo clears his throat.

“Anyway, I sketched out what I thought you might like, and they were kind enough to help. Worked all day yesterday, and I installed it while you were out. Wanted you to come home to a fixed house.”

“That design”—I point up at the rose—“you came up with that?”

He scratches the back of his neck and stares between his boots.

“It’s simple. But I thought … just thought maybe you’d like looking at it.”

This man.

This insecure, wonderful, amazing monster does not realize how lovely he is, which only makes him even more appealing.

“That is the most beautiful window I’ve ever seen in my life, and I am honored to have it in my home.”

“Oh. Um … good then.” Every inch of his skin I can see has started to take on a rosy tint.

“And I asked Ame to read this for me.” He holds up a grimoire.

“’Cause of your records, it looked like this might be one with protection spells. She found one that makes structures sturdier.” He flips open to a page marked with a ribbon.

“I thought maybe you’d want to try casting it on the roof. And the walls. And the whole house really. Just in case.”

Oh no.

Gods, if this monster keeps going, I’m going to fall in love with him.

That is, if I haven’t already.

And as he rambles on about protection spells, I realize how—even in this small town—the world is still dangerous.

Any day could be my last. That tree branch could have done me in, and I never would have experienced what it was like to kiss someone who I actually like.

If the Dark One gather’s me into her cosmic embrace tomorrow, I will have to leave this world never having known the joy of romantic love.

Bo is younger than me.

He is my employee.

He’s still figuring out his place in the world.

And if any or all of those reasons have him choosing not to be with me then that’s his decision to make.

But right now, my choice is clear.

I can’t let another moment go by without telling him the truth.