Page 5 of When the Weaver Met the Gargoyle (Leafshire Cove Monsters #1)

Chapter 5

Laini

E very thought flies from my mind, and I’m left with my mouth hanging open.

How does he look like every dream I’ve ever had in my entire life? Those horns spiraling away from his head and down toward the back of his head. That long, shiny hair as black as a raven’s feathers. Pointed ears—one glinting with a golden loop earring. And oh, those wings with the clawed tips. I can’t find any words.

Plum whistles. “Wow.” She elbows me, but I can’t tear my gaze from Rom. “That changing room must be magical.”

“Rom, you look gorgeous.” My face grows even hotter than it already was. Apparently, everything was getting hotter. I laugh and cover my mouth. “I had no idea you had wings.” And the face of a demon sent to lure me away from my work and into his bed.

He shifts his weight from one foot to the other. His eyes never leave my face, and I feel that look like a touch. Those eyes of his—they shine like polished coins. His clawed hands flex beside his thighs, thighs that are nicely wrapped in those tight trousers. My heart shivers with want, and my body practically melts onto the floor of the shop. If everyone knew what he looked like, they’d all be after him.

“I ask that you two keep the secret of my wings to yourself.”

“Why?” I can’t help but wonder.

Plum nods at him and then glances at me. “Because he’s an Allysium gargoyle, and a lot of folks are frightened of his kind.”

I’m an ignorant fool. “I didn’t know there were different types. I’m sorry.”

“It’s nothing to apologize for. There are so few of us now that I’m a rarity. I’ll tell you more later if you are curious,” he says.

“I am.”

I shake my head, trying to focus on something other than the way he looks in those trousers. They leave little to the imagination, and I’m wondering how different all his parts are from your average male creature. The urge to run a finger along the edges of his powerful, black, and gray wings nearly has me stepping closer, but I force myself to stop and face Plum.

“Do you need to pin anything?” I ask her.

Plum snickers and picks up a tiny pillow that’s shaped like an apple and stuck with numerous pins. “Don’t tempt me. He’s your date.”

Rom suddenly looks very interested in the ceiling, so I change the subject.

“Don’t forget to include the cloaks.” I gesture toward the table where I set my clothing, and apparently, the two cloaks that I forgot existed. I’d wanted to help Rom out with his desire for privacy or modesty, but I dropped the ball for sure.

“You really won’t need a cloak at the party,” Plum says around two more pins.

“But we want them. Please.”

“Those bonfires are going to keep you plenty warm, but all right. Whatever you want.”

“If we’re done here, I’ll just wait outside for you, Rom.”

Plum begins pinning the sides of Rom’s tunic as I scurry out of the back room. The crowd has thinned, but I rush out of the shop regardless. I do not want to talk to anyone about Rom or the party. I needed to keep this simple and quick. No drama. No relationships. Just friends.

Hooded and cloaked once more, Rom joins me outside the tailor’s shop. I grab Spark from his sunny spot on the doorstep.

“Let’s get something to eat,” I suggest to Rom, hoping it sounds friendly and fancy gargoyles like him can’t read the naughty thoughts going through my mind. Imagine having this nearly seven-foot-tall monster in bed…

“I should get back to the tower.”

“Just a scone. It will only take a minute.”

He needs to be seen outside the tower so people will be kinder to him. He needs to mingle just a little bit. I hate it as much as he does, but he has to be lonely up in that watchtower all day, every day. At least I have my dragonfox. He has nothing and no one.

“Fine,” he says. “But you must allow me to pay to thank you for agreeing to go to the party with me.”

“That’s not how dates work. ”

“It’s not a date, though.”

I flush. Ouch. He’s right, and I don’t want it to be a date. I can’t think straight around him sometimes.

“I know. I just meant… Never mind,” I say. “Okay, you can pay.” I don’t have the money to throw around anyway. I do know that Kaya would give me a free scone, though.

“Just friends,” I say, and he nods as we walk toward the bakery.

The streets are busy with merchants heading this way and that, and one of the shepherds and his dog herding a flock toward the town gates. The sheep’s baaing is loud enough that I can’t talk to Rom yet, can’t ask him all the questions brewing in my mind.

“Off for tupping!” the shepherd calls out, giving us a wink.

We laugh as the shepherd wiggles his arse suggestively.

Once the noise of the sheep fades, and we round the corner to enter the center of town, I broach the subject of what exactly Rom is.

“Will you tell me more about having wings and being an Allysium gargoyle?” I keep my voice down.

He turns as a bevy of old faeries in gowns that drag the ground fly past on green wings. It’s wild how different wings can be. Theirs are dainty and gossamer. His are the opposite—dangerous looking, dark, and sexy.

“I know I said I would answer your questions, but maybe it would be better if you kept your distance.”

My stomach tightens. “But if I’m going to the party with you, I should know more than just your first name.”

Shrugging, he exhaled. “That’s sensible, I suppose. Well, as you already heard, we are rare. I have never met another of my kind. My brother and I were abandoned. I still don’t know why or who my parents were. I like to think they had no choice but to leave us with the abbess.”

“This was in the last town where you lived?”

“No, this was long ago. In a place far deeper into the Veiled Kingdoms.”

“Ah.” As a human who grew up outside the Veil, I don’t know nearly what the fantastical creatures do.

“The abbess split us up, sending my brother away so our magic wouldn’t combine and become even harder to control.”

“I’m so sorry. That must have been awful. ”

“I was too young to understand. I don’t remember much of him.”

His shining eyes lift to watch some battling maplecats carry on with a big leaf that’s fallen from the oak above the chandler’s workshop. I wonder what Rom does recall of his brother and what he doesn’t want to share. I won’t pry, but I wish I could find out. He’s already being so open with me; I won’t push too much. I just need to know the basics of who I’m spending time with.

“What about your power was the abbess so worried about?”

I walk on with him, giving him time to respond. The town fountain gurgles and the autumn wind lifts the hem of my dress so that I have to push it down. He walks closer, effectively blocking the stronger gust.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” He clears his throat. “So my magic isn’t pleasant like a faerie’s or some of your friend Tully’s potions.”

“Tully isn’t really my friend.”

“No?”

“I don’t think so. But back to you.”

“I can bring up rock from the earth.”

“I’ve heard you can build walls with that magic.”

“Yes, I suppose so,” Rom says. “I haven’t tried in a long, long time.”

“Because it’s dangerous?”

“Yes, exactly. If I unleash even a whisper of my power, it tends to have a mind of its own.” His tone is sharp like he’s daring me to question him. I don’t know why I would. I know nothing about him.

“What could happen?”

“I hurt people. Even when I don’t intend to.”

“I can’t even imagine you raising your voice to someone.” Not that he would need to; his very presence is frightening. Well, it was before I got to know him a bit. Now, I know he is a sweet guy—so far, he’s the kindest male I’ve met in my entire life.

He grumbles like he doesn’t agree, but he doesn’t say more. “Stone magic is tied to emotion.”

“Tully’s can be like that sometimes. I’ve seen her blow up her cauldron after a breakup.” I snicker, but Rom doesn’t join in. His past haunts him. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t make light of what you’re telling me.”

“You don’t need to apologize because your life with magical friends has been positive. That’s how life should be.”

“It could be that way for you, too, couldn’t it? If you learned to control your power?” I bite my lip. I went too far .

Rom is quiet for the rest of our trip to the bakery, and I worry I’ve ruined this burgeoning friendship. Damn it. Why am I too quiet most of the time and then a word vomit monster the moment I decide to speak?

Rom must not loathe me too much because he opens the door to Kaya’s Two Cats Bakery for me. The place isn’t terribly crowded—no line out the door like it can be on big market days. Inside, ten or so people sit at various tables and chairs covered in fluffy pillows. A very fat maplecat curls up on the red rug by the flickering hearth and proceeds to lick at her orange, leafy pelt. Two more scrap playfully over a ball of white wool in the corner under the painted menu on the wall. Kaya may have started with just two cats, but now she has well over five.

Cinnamon, vanilla, sugar, and mint dance through the sweet air. We approach the counter display case, and I’m already drooling. Tiny, circular cakes covered in pink frosting line up beside sweet rolls that glitter with raw sugar. On the bottom shelf, shiny chocolate croissants and neatly crafted apple tarts lie next to the famous cinnamon scones.

“What would you like?” Rom asks, his voice low and soft.

Something about that voice of his heats me right up. It’s like I’m standing near Kaya’s bread oven. I swallow, trying to ignore the warmth pooling low in my belly. Friends. Just friends.

“I can’t say no to one of her scones. They are heaven on earth.”

“Two scones, please,” Rom says as Kaya approaches.

Wiping flour-dusted hands on her apron, she gives me a curious smile, like she wants to know what I’m doing with the town gargoyle, but she doesn’t press me with an actual question.

“No problem. I hope you two are having a lovely morning,” Kaya says.

Her gaze slips to the hump of Rom’s wings hidden under his cloak. Concern blinks through her eyes—not in a mean way at all, but as if she can imagine how much a twisted back might hurt, especially with winter coming. I want to tell her he feels just fine and is concealing some amazing wings, but of course, that isn’t my story to tell.

She bends to pick out two scones with a set of tongs, then she slips them into a paper bag marked with the Two Cats Bakery logo—two kitties pawing at a triangle, which I’m sure represents a scone. She folds the top down and hands the bag over to me. I slide a few silvers to her over the counter, but Rom sets his hand on mine, stopping the transaction. A shock rockets down my arm, and I meet the unreadable gaze that remains in the shadow of his hood. His skin is cooler than mine, and the texture is more supple—so different from a human male’s hand.

He shakes his head, then lifts his hand from mine and drops his coins onto Kaya’s counter. She grins at me, then accepts his payment.

“You didn’t have to do that,” I say, gathering my money and tucking it into the pouch I keep tied to my belt.

Kaya also hands us two steaming cups of what smells like cider. “These are on the house. I just want your opinion on this new flavor. If it gets a good response this morning, I’ll bring this recipe to the Harvest Party.”

“What’s in it?” I ask, blowing the surface of the cider.

“Apple, of course, and all the regular spices, but it also has an herb I don’t usually include. Let me know if you figure it out.”

I wiggle my eyebrows at her. “So mysterious.”

This whole situation would normally have me running to the nearest dark corner, but I feel comfortable with Rom at my side. Yes, people are staring and whispering, but Kaya is acting like nothing is amiss. Rom is quiet and kind. I don’t feel like I’m about to be publicly mocked, even if I am currently at the heart of the most juicy gossip. Maybe a relationship with Rom wouldn’t be impossible. Maybe after I get the contract with Lord Rustion, I can consider it and discuss it with him. Would Rom try it if I said I was willing? Probably not. He’d made it clear we were hanging out as friends.

I sip the cider, and the savory hint of thyme touches my tongue.

“Thyme?” Rom and I say in unison. We chuckle, and his laugh is so deep and lovely that I just want to hear it over and over.

Kaya clasps her hands and bounces up and down. “Huzzah! Yes! And you like it?” She looks from my face to Rom’s, her excitement catchy.

“I love it. It’s the perfect blend of sweet and savory,” I say.

Rom nods. “I prefer it to the usual cider I’ve had in the past because it’s less sweet.”

Kaya beams at us. “Perfect. Thank you so much! I heard you two are going to the party. What dish are you bringing?”

Oh, the dish. I forgot about that tradition. Each couple has to cook something together and bring it to share with everyone.

“Maybe you have a suggestion?” Rom says to Kaya.

Kaya crosses her arms and studies a spot in the distance. “Hmm. Maybe…”

I turn to find a table. “It’s okay. We will think of something.”

“How about a squash casserole?” Kaya asks. “I can jot down a suggested recipe if you want.”

“Aw, thanks so much,” I say, trying to hide my true feelings about squash. Disgusting.

Kaya laughs. “Okay, never mind on that. I can tell you are not in love with the squash idea.”

A chuckle rumbles from the depths of Rom’s hood.

“What? Is it my face?” I hate that all my emotions show so easily. It makes me feel overly vulnerable.

Rom and Kaya nod and snicker as one of the many maplecats flits over our heads to perch on a ceiling beam.

I touch Kaya’s arm. “Sorry. I just loathe squash of any kind.”

“Even pumpkin?” Rom asked.

“If you put enough sugar and butter into the mix, I’ll allow it.”

Lifting his cider, Rom says, “I’ll toast to that.”

Kaya huffs a little laugh as we walk away.

“How about that table?” I say right as Rom points at the same spot in the corner.

A shy, pleased look glimmers from the dark of his hood. I wish he would take his cloak off so everyone could see how handsome he is, but I wouldn’t even dream of pushing him. I completely understand wanting to hide a little. Or a lot.

As we make our way toward the table, the door’s tiny bell rings, and in sweeps Tully. She waves at Kaya, then she looks our way and wiggles her hips suggestively.

“Um, what is that about?” Rom asks as he holds out my chair for me.

No one has ever done that for me before. I thought only ancient old men remembered to do things like that. “Thanks. Tully wants more out of our friendly Harvest Party situation than we do.”

I sit and sip more of the delicious thyme-and-apple cider as Rom grins sadly.

The cider’s scent fills my nose, and I try to ignore the pixie younglings at the next table. They’re eyeing Rom from the back, likely making jokes about what they believe is his hunchback. I wouldn’t care if Rom had a twisted back. He would be just as beautiful to me because he is so kind and easy-going.

Tully bumps past the younglings and scowls at them. “Behave, little pricks, or I will make you behave!” She whips her wand out and tips it up menacingly.

Maybe I do consider her a friend. She’s pretty great sometimes.

“Hey, you two,” she says, coming close to me. “How was the fitting?”

“Very good,” Rom says in that rumbling voice that has me clenching my thighs together.

Kaya’s assistant comes around, gathering cups and dishes. She takes Rom’s empty one, and he looks up to say thank you while Tully leans close to whisper in my ear.

“Did you get a better look at him at Plum’s?” she asks.

“He has wings.”

Tully shifts back a step and gasps.

Rom turns his attention back to us. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing!” Tully and I both say far too loudly.

I can’t see Rom’s black eyebrows, but I would bet one is raised in suspicion. He has to know we were talking about him.

The door to Two Cats Bakery jingles again, and this time, it’s not someone I’m on the fence about about them being friend or foe. It’s Leo.

“Fucking cunt,” Tully spits out.

I choke on my mouthful of cider, and Rom reaches for me, taking the cup.

“You all right? Want to go?” he asks so quietly that I’m sure no one but Tully and I can hear.

“Yes, please.”

I can’t deal with him and Rom. Leo will make some big scene. And Tully will try to help and only make it so much worse. We’ll have an epic drama happening right here in Kaya’s delightful bakery if we don’t leave. Now.

Rom and I stand up, and Tully stuffs a packet of something that smells spicy into my hand.

“Make a tea with this,” she whispers. “For you both when you get back to your workshop. It will calm your nerves.”

I want to question her, but Leo is making the rounds, his stupid voice carrying over the meows of the maplecats and the bang of pans coming from the bakery’s kitchen. I just want to leave .

I squeeze the packet of tea, and the scent of licorice tickles my nose. “Thank you.”

I lead Rom in a circuitous route around the bakery’s other tables and patrons until we are safely outside in the chilly breeze. Yellow and brown leaves dance through the sunlight, and I take in a full breath of non-Leo-contaminated air.

Rom doesn’t say anything as we maneuver through town and head back to my place. His silence is so comfortable, though, like a velvet blanket on a snowy night. It’s exactly what I need right now to calm my pounding heart.

At my door, I open the entrance wide and gesture for Rom to come inside. “I wish I didn’t let him get to me so much.”

Rom looks back toward his tower, then at the interior of my shop and house.

“Tully gave me a calming tea for us to share,” I say. “Let’s have just one mug, and then we can call it a day.”

Nodding, Rom joins me inside. Once I shut the door, he sweeps off his cloak and stretches his wings wide.

“It’s nice to have one ally here,” he says, and those glittering eyes of his turn my body into a pool of melted butter.

“Yes,” I say breathily, irritated with myself. But damn. He is just so gorgeous with those vicious wings and his broad chest. I know gargoyles sometimes rest in stone form, and he looks like a master carver’s finest piece of work. I want to know everything about him. But of course, just to be a good friend. That’s all. Of course.

My body feels strongly otherwise on the whole friend topic.