“Good. Really good.” Cassie felt her cheeks warm, and the wall behind her flickered a soft, traitorous pink. “He’s… he just fits, you know? Like he was always supposed to be here.”
“Without the magical binding.”
“Without anything magical at all. Just—” She waved vaguely, unable to articulate the simple contentment of waking up next to someone who knew exactly how she took her coffee and never once made her feel like she needed to be smaller. “—just this.”
“That’s disgusting and I’m thrilled for you.” Diane topped off both their mugs. “Now. When doIget magical powers? Because I feel like I’ve been very supportive through this whole process and I deserve some chaos of my own.”
“That’s not how it?—”
“I’m serious. I want to make my dating app matches combust. Metaphorically. Or literally, I’m not picky.”
“Peut-être que vous devriez commencer par des dates moins terribles,” Jacques offered.
“The toaster’s judging my love life now?”
“He judges everyone’s love life. It’s his thing.”
The front door opened, and a familiar voice called out: “Mom? Why is there a gnome in the middle of the walkway holding a tiny ‘welcome’ sign?”
Cassie’s heart seized. “Sophia?”
“Surprise!” Her daughter appeared in the kitchen doorway—ginning, gorgeous, exhausted from what was clearly a very long drive, and absolutely beaming. “I have three days off and I wanted to meet the man who finally got you to stop crying during rom-coms.”
“I don’t cry during?—”
“Mom. You sobbed throughThe Proposal. That movie is acomedy.”
“It has emotional moments!”
Sophia dropped her bag on the kitchen floor and pulled Cassie into a hug that smelled like car air freshener and Sophia’s particular mix of shampoo, body wash and perfume. “I missed you.”
“I missed you too, sweetheart.” Cassie squeezed her daughter tight, feeling tears prick at her eyes. Happy tears. The only kind she seemed to producelately. “You could have warned me you were coming.”
“And miss the look on your face? Never.” Sophia pulled back, surveying the kitchen with the assessing gaze of someone who’d grown up in this house and knew every crack in the ceiling. “So. Where’s the hot Scottish handyman?”
“How do you know he’s hot?”
“Diane’s been texting me updates. Also, you literally glow when you talk about him. Your skin is doing it right now.”
Cassie looked at her arm. Sure enough, a soft golden shimmer was radiating from her skin like she’d been dusted in highlighter.
“That’s new,” she said weakly.
“You’re awitch, Mom. Nothing about this situation is new for you at this point.” Sophia grabbed a mug and helped herself to champagne. “Now introduce me to your boyfriend before I start making assumptions based entirely on Diane’s very detailed descriptions.”
Liam emergedfrom the dining room covered in sawdust and looking approximately seventy percent confused by the sudden appearance of a college student in his kitchen.
“You must be Sophia.”
“And you must be the man my mother accidentally summoned from another continent.” Sophia extended her hand with the confidence of someone who’d been raised by a woman who’d spent twenty years pretending to be smaller than she was and had decided very firmly not to repeat the pattern. “Nice to meet you. Mom says you make excellent tea and you don’t run away when the toaster judges you.”
Liam shook her hand, visibly recalibrating. “Your mum talks about me?”
“Constantly. It’s actually kind of sweet. She gets this goofy look on her face.” Sophia demonstrated—a dreamy, slightly unfocused expression that Cassie absolutely did not recognize as her own. “Like that, but with more blushing.”
“I don’t blush.”
“Mom. You’re blushing right now.”
