“Yup. Sorry for making you wait.” Morgan slips her phone into her back pocket, laces up her boots, and we head out for part one of my master plan.
•••
The drive to the first portion of our date doesn’t take long, but by the time we find suitable parking and emerge from the car, the sun is past its peak in the sky.
“Where are we?” Morgan asks, shading her eyes from the glare. The sky is a perfect blue, dotted through with fluffy white clouds.
“The Salem Woods.” I open the back door and pull out a wicker basket. “There are some great trails here, and I thought we could have a little lunch.”
Morgan lights up, keeping pace with me as I head toward the entrance of the trail. “Please tell me you have dessert in there.”
I nudge her with my shoulder as we slip past the edge of the woods. “Maybe,” I tease, though in truth, I have something even better planned for after lunch. The trees swallow us up, and we make our way down the twisting path.
Walking together, with the sun warming my skin and the rich power of the earth gently nurturing my magic, the bit of awkwardness I felt on the way to Morgan’s melts away. I shift the picnic basket to my left hand and let my right hand—the one closet to Morgan—swing free. Our fingers brush together as we walk. Once. Twice. Finally, she glances at me, a tinge of color in her cheeks, and threads our fingers together.
My heart beats just a little bit faster.
“So, are we heading anywhere in particular?” Morgan glances through the trees and traces small circles on my wrist with her thumb. “This place kind of reminds me of home, except we had more pine trees. I bet it looks amazing here when the leaves turn.”
“It really does. We’ll have to come back in the fall. It’s almost like walking into a sunset with all the red and gold in the leaves.” I’ve painted out here at least half a dozen times for that very reason. I adjust my grip on the basket, feeling the strain in my shoulder but determined to hide it. “There’s a little clearing up ahead. I figure we can eat there.”
We continue down the path until we come to a gnarled old tree that bears the scars of this spring’s thunderstorms. I step off the worn trail and help Morgan pick her way through bushes and closely grown trees. Here, there’s not enough room to walk side by side, so I have to lead the way, following the thread of water energy I feel up ahead. When we’re close, I stop.
“Is this it?” Morgan glances around, and I can see the slight disappointment in the slump of her posture. There’s nothing special about this place. Yet.
“Not quite, but I want you to stay here.” I set our picnic supplies on a fallen tree and reach for her hands, gently resting them over her eyes. “No peeking until I come back.”
Morgan shifts uncomfortably. “Please don’t sneak up on me when you come back.”
“I won’t. I’ll be right back.” I grab the basket and slip through a knot of trees that opens up to a little clearing. The energy here is unlike anywhere else I’ve found in these woods. A small stream winds through the space, and there’s something about the natural mix of earth, air, and water that settles deep in my bones. I setdown the basket and perch at the edge of the stream, dipping my fingers into the cool water. With one hand in the water, one against the soft earth, and the wind in my hair, a calmness settles over me. All I need now is fire.
With Morgan waiting on the other side of the trees, I crack open the basket and lay out the blanket I stored on top. I pick a spot that’s near enough to the stream to hear the gentle trickle of running water against the rocks but far enough away to be completely dry, and unpack our lunch. With a quick glance to make sure Morgan is still out of sight, I coax the earth into holding up the thin taper candle I brought. It looks like I simply pressed the base into the ground, but this way there’s no risk of the candle tipping over. I strike a match and light the flame, and as the fourth and final element sparks to life, I step back to survey my work.
It’s perfect.
I planned out every detail of this date with Gemma, and this was our compromise. Since I can’t tell Morgan what I am, I can at least show her the place where I feel my magic all the way to my marrow. For a second, I worry that this was a bad idea. The Hunter knows who I am. He could have followed me out here, a place so secluded no one could hear me scream, but I shove the thought down. I promised myself a Hunter-free day. Besides, my air magic would have alerted me to another human lurking in the woods behind us. I would have sensed their breath.
When I return to Morgan, she’s waiting patiently with her hands still covering her face. “I’m back,” I whisper so I don’t startle her. She smiles, and her excitement warms me like the sun. “Keep your eyes closed. I’m going to lead you to the spot.”
Morgan reaches out one hand, using the other to shield her view. “Don’t let me fall.”
“Never,” I promise, and lead her through the trees and into the clearing. When we’re a few feet from the blanket, I stop. “Okay, this is it.”
She opens her eyes, surveying the little picnic with the single candle flame swaying in the wind. “Hannah...” Something catches in her throat.
I can’t read her reaction, and she doesn’t say anything else. Panic hammers at my ribs. She hates it. Oh god, she hates it. Maybe this was a bad idea. I should—
Morgan reaches for my hand and draws me close, her touch stalling my worried thoughts. “This is amazing.” She leans in and brushes the softest of kisses against my lips. “How did you find this place?”
And just like that, all my worries melt away. I take a spot on the blanket and pass Morgan one of the water bottles. “My grandmother lives on the other side of the woods, so I’ve spent a lot of time on these trails. I found this spot last year.”
“Do you come here a lot?” Morgan reaches for the little triangle sandwiches I packed. She takes a bite and gives me an amused look. “Is this peanut butter and Fluff?”
A small flutter of embarrassment warms my face. “What can I say? I’m a baker, not a chef.” I point to the other plate. “Those ones are Nutella though, if you prefer. And I packed fruit, too.” I snag one of each kind of sandwich while Morgan pops a grape into her mouth. “I don’t really do much out here during the winter, but otherwise I come as much as I can. It’s my place to be alone.”
At that, Morgan looks up from her sandwich. “Am I the first person you’ve brought here?”
I nod and grab one of the grapes. The skin is perfectly firm,and the inside explodes with flavor. “Most locals don’t even walk the trails, let alone wander through the trees without them, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen tourists out here. I wanted you to have a place that no one else knows about. I hoped it might make the town feel more like home.” I wipe my fingers on my jeans, and when I glance back at Morgan, she’s staring at me. “What?”
