“Just a little surprise. I hope you won’t mind.”
They passed the counter where Elara was wiping down glasses–or pretending to, Beth couldn’t quite tell. The elf lifted her gaze as they passed, eyes briefly distant with some inner seeing. Then her lips curled into a smile that looked like a blessing. “Your auras together,” Elara said dreamily, “are the best thing. All glowing and happy. Go. Have fun.”
Beth laughed, a little flustered but warmed from the inside out. “See you tomorrow.”
They left the pub hand-in-hand, chatting as they walked through town. The air was crisp with fall, and the sidewalk was scattered with leaves that crunched gently beneath their boots. Their conversation wasn’t anything special—how the lake had looked that morning, something funny one of her coworkers said—but it mattered.
It mattered because it was easy.
“Alright,” Gael said when they reached the little wooden gate that led into her front yard. “Close your eyes.”
She arched a brow. “Seriously?”
“Seriously,” he said, grinning. “No peeking.”
She rolled her eyes but obeyed, amused and a little curious. The sounds shifted as he guided her by the hand around the side of the house. Gravel, then grass, under her feet told her where they were. Her pulse quickened from the strange anticipation humming just beneath her skin.
Then he stopped. “Okay,” he said, voice softer now. “Open your eyes.”
She did.
In her backyard, surrounded by the riot of her garden, was a white linen blanket laid out on a patch of grass. Cushions waited beside a spread of cheese, fresh bread, something fizzy to drink, and tiny candles tucked safely in mason jars, already lit and glowing in the fading light. At the center, was a roasted mushroom tart with garlic crème and honeyed squash, her absolute favorite. She recognized it instantly as being from Tansy’s.
“I hope you’re not upset.”
Her lips parted in surprise. “How could I possibly be upset with this?”
“Because I had to get in here without you knowing. But Elara knew; I asked her what your favorite food was. She also told me to apologize for intruding. Which I am.”
“Gael,” she said, taking his hands, “I am so far removed from upset right now. This is lovely.”
His shoulders eased as happiness bloomed behind his eyes. He gestured to the blanket. “Please,” he said. “I thought it might be nice to go back to where it all started.”
“You were here last night,” she reminded him, even as she walked with him toward the blanket.
“But not in this spot. I believe the table was exactly here, and you were surrounded by flowers and fruits, and the smell of earth was all around you.”
She let out a half-laugh, half-groan. “That is the most gentlemanly way of telling me I stank, and I appreciate it.”
But he didn’t laugh. His expression was thoughtful as he looked at her. “You could’ve been a goddess of the earth, surrounded by everything the Mother gives us,” he said softly. “You were breathtaking.”
The words settled in her chest like petals as something in her shifted, a little shy. She tucked her hair behind her ear, touched and self-conscious. “Why did you come here that day?”
“Because I had to see you,” he said without hesitation. “To make sure you were alright. And... to see you.”
“I was so horrible to you.”
“Oh, you were,” he agreed with a flicker of mischief in his eyes. “But not many people would dare get in my face like that. It was refreshing. I remember thinking how much courage it took.” Then his voice dipped, and something seductive curled into it. “I also remember thinking how that fire would feel in other circumstances.”
Easy. It was so easy to let go into him. She couldn’t look anywhere but his eyes, and even that was too much. If she let go—of logic, of anything but this moment—she might become part of him. “I feel like I could drift into you,” she whispered, “and somehow come back more myself than before.”
His thumb traced the curve of her bottom lip, featherlight.
“You didn’t drift into me, Beth. You rooted in me. And now everything within my soul hums with belonging to you.” His gaze locked onto hers, darker, heated and ancient all at once. “Something old and powerful recognized you before I had the chance to understand, and now it calls for you.” Then he bent to her neck, his lips brushing just beneath her jaw, and his voice—lord—his voice was wildfire wrapped in silk. “My body, my soul, ache in your absence.”
Beth’s eyes fluttered shut at the feel of his lips against her skin; a shiver skimmed down her spine.
“Are you cold?” he asked, already pulling her closer, wrapping an arm around her like he could shield her from the entire oncoming season, if needed.
