Page 43 of Wishing for a Werewolf (Ferndale Falls Forever #2)

Autumn

A few days later, I slow Tank to a halt in front of Rune’s house. It’s only late afternoon, but the days are getting noticeably shorter, and the sun’s already dipping.

Babybelle squirms against the seatbelt holding her on my lap and bounces out of the car the second I release the buckle and open the door. She’s smart enough to be good while I’m driving and rotten enough to chafe against the restriction the moment we stop. “Hurry! Come on!”

Rune steps out onto the porch, a rumbling laugh coming from him when my familiar gambols up the steps and runs straight at him to headbutt his leg. He leans over to give her lots of pets as she prances in front of him, giving her usual cry for attention, “Me! Me! Me!”

As soon as I get near, he straightens, pulling me to him. His hand tangles in my hair, tipping my head back for a kiss that makes my toes curl. “I missed you.”

“It’s only been a few hours since we saw each other.” He checked in at Your Bubbly Charm during his afternoon patrol but didn’t get to stay long, because the sprites came back.

“A few hours is too long,” he growls, kissing me again.

When we finally break apart to go inside, I shed my jacket in the house’s welcoming warmth. “What happened with the sprites?”

“I kept them from bespelling any humans until Severin got there.” Rune grunts. “He invited them to the palace and ordered all the shadow fae to return there for the evening for an impromptu party.”

“There’s a party?” Babybelle asks. “I want to go!”

“Not to this one, sweetie,” I say. “It’s a fae-only party.”

“But there’s no one here to play with,” she whines, sad that Riselda and the werepuppies went back to Faerie this morning.

As we head for the kitchen, Rune asks about my day, and I tell him about the multiple batches of specialty soap I made using all of my new equipment. “It’s amazing to have so many molds and supplies.”

We fall into an easy rhythm, cooking together as we do most evenings. Tonight I’m showing him how to make cheddar-topped shepherd’s pie with a brown-sugar-cinnamon apple crisp for dessert.

Once we have both dishes in the oven, I realize the house is quiet, too quiet.

I catch Rune’s eye and send him a questioning look. “Babybelle?”

He cocks his head, his eyes narrowing, then leads me to the half-bath tucked under the stairs, where the mini-goat sits, chewing on what used to be a pretty hand towel.

“Babybelle! You promised!”

“No, I didn’t!” She jumps to her feet. “Rune’s house isn’t your cottage or the bookshop. I can chew up anything I want!”

Laughter bursts from me, and it takes a few moments before I can tell him what she said. Then I wave my hand over the sodden mess and say, “I wish the hand towel was like new again.” The hand wave isn’t strictly necessary, but a girl’s gotta have a little flash, right?

Magic ripples through me and spirals out to swirl around the fabric, which reknits before our eyes.

I snatch the towel off the floor before she can get hold of it again.

“You got off on a technicality this time, but don’t think you’re off the hook, little missy.

I’m officially extending the no-chew rule to Rune’s house. ”

“Our house. If you like,” he says. “Just as soon as I can find a way to soundproof our bedroom.”

Oh! We haven’t talked about where we’ll live yet, spending most nights at my cottage while his family—and their keen fae hearing—was in the house.

“I’d like that.” I smile up at him as he wraps an arm around me, one massive hand spanning my entire lower back and making me shiver. “It’s close enough that I can get to the farm quickly.”

“There will be pack mates here regularly.” His golden eyes watch me closely. “Another group will arrive in a few days.”

“We’ll always have my cottage for a getaway,” I say.

“But what about me?” Babybelle headbutts my leg. “There aren’t any other goats here.”

“You’ll spend nights at the farm,” I say. “It’s right next door.”

“I can run her to the farm.” Rune gazes down at my familiar with a fond expression.

“I’ve got a different idea. Remember what happened with the rolling pumpkin the other day?

” A group of non-magical kids separated one of the animated pumpkins from the rest and tried to grab it, thinking they were capturing a hedgehog to keep as a pet.

I wished for the pumpkin to be safely with the rest, and it teleported across the green, none the worse for wear.

After that, I teleported a few bugs for practice, and they were also okay.

I look at Babybelle. “Do you want to try a new magic trick?”

“Yes!”

“Okay, hold still. I wish Babybelle was in the kitchen.” Magic swirls through me, and she disappears with a pop, followed immediately by the sound of hooves striking hardwood from down the hall.

“It worked! I’m here!” Babybelle cries out as we hurry into the kitchen. She bounces back and forth between us. “Do it again!”

I laugh and wish her to the living room, and Rune and I join her.

We start a fire and put on the next Mission Impossible movie, up to number five by now.

We settle onto the couch and make it all the way through the first main action sequence by the time the oven chimes that the food is done.

Babybelle gets a bowl full of chopped veggies while we eat our shepherd’s pie, the sharp cheddar adding extra yum to the beef and mashed potato casserole.

We finish things off with warm apple crisp topped with vanilla ice cream, with the mini-goat enjoying a couple of slices of uncooked apple for her dessert.

Afterward, she hops up onto the couch to press against my thigh in a little goat loaf, while I lean into Rune as we finish watching the movie, everything about our little family perfect.

Once the gang on the TV saves the day, I give Babybelle one last cuddle and wish for her to join the rest of the herd in the goat barn.

While Rune cleans up the kitchen, I make hot cocoa from scratch, warming the milk slowly on the stovetop and mixing in both cocoa powder and melted chocolate until it’s rich and fragrant. We take our mugs back into the living room and sit on the rug in front of the fire.

At his first sip, Rune gives a happy grunt and takes a bigger gulp.

I smile, glad he likes it, and let the rich chocolatey goodness roll over my tongue.

We sit, easy with one another, drinking and watching the fire. I’ve never been able to just be with someone like this and have it feel so easy, so right. It’s better than the best yoga session ever.

Once we finish our last sips, I give a contented sigh. “I dreamed of being with you like this, you drinking your first hot cocoa in front of a fire.”

He leans over to growl in my ear, “Is that all you’ve dreamed about me?”

The heated promise in his words sets my entire body alight. “Nope.” I leap to my feet and trot across the room.

“Are you running from me, my mate?” His voice goes extra hoarse, his eyes flashing gold, claws starting to emerge from the tips of his fingers. “You remember what I promised I’d do to you.”

“Yep!”

Rune comes off the floor with a growl, shifting to his werewolf form.

I give a happy shriek and take off, running up the stairs and straight for the bedroom.

It turns out I don’t mind running as long as I have proper incentive, and Rune offers the best incentive any girl could want.

It might not be a long chase, but him catching me is every bit as thrilling as last time.

Later that week, I wave goodbye to Gwenfrie and leave Your Bubbly Charm for the evening, humming with happiness.

The store’s doing well for a new business.

Word’s getting out about the candles and crystals, and we’re getting a lot of fae customers.

It turns out shadow fae and dragons are the two strongest types of magic users in all of Faerie, so orcs, pixies, gnomes, etc, all want to purchase the candles and crystals.

Some of her fae clients also buy my soaps when they visit, and non-magical humans shop for soap, none the wiser to what else is going on, just as we hoped.

The prolonged mildness of fall means my pumpkin spice latte soap continues to be a top seller, and the approaching Christmas season means my new peppermint candy cane soap is already set to be another hit.

I’m building a base of specialty soaps I’ll offer year round but already have plans to make more seasonal favorites, with Valentine’s the next one I want to tackle.

I even got Mom and Dad to agree to update the packaging on the farm’s soaps.

They’re a really nice lavender and peppermint, even if they don’t have any dried herbs or colors added.

It’s already helped sales enough that Mom hired a teenager part-time to take over some of the simpler tasks so that I have more time at the store.

“Young lady,” a fussy voice says from behind me, “if I may have a word.”

I spin to find Mrs. Greely standing on the sidewalk with her dog Max waiting patiently by her side. He’s used to his evening walks being broken up with lots of stops, since his owner is one of the town’s busiest gossips.

“Of course, Mrs. Greely.”

“You did a fine job with the hay maze this year.” She taps her cane against the sidewalk.

I grin, happy that breaking the wish swap means she finally recognizes who did what.

Her eyes flicker over my shoulder, and I know who she’s looking at without turning around, because the magic of the mate bond tingles in my heart, telling me Rune’s near.

“And you, young man, were good with the pumpkin carving competition,” she says. “I hope you’ll each apply to do the events for the next fall festival.”

“I imagine we’ll do them exactly the same way we did them this year,” Rune says, his voice a deep, warm rumble. He wraps an arm around my shoulders. “Together.”

I snuggle into his side, looking up to meet his happy smile with one of my own. “Together.”