“He’s a grumpy bastard but he’s got a good heart. And his type can be very… energetic.” Flora waggled her eyebrows suggestively.
Wait. Did she mean…? No. That couldn’t be what she meant. Before she could gather up the courage to ask, Flora skipped past her.
“Must dash. Just remember the bunny food.”
And then she was gone, slipping out the front door with surprising speed for someone her age, leaving Sara standing in her living room with a gift basket and a confused look on her face.
Bunny food. Why was that so important?
She set the basket on the kitchen counter and tried to return to unpacking. She really did. She made it through an entire box of kitchen utensils, found a place for her cast iron skillet, and discovered that yes, she had packed the stand mixer in the same box as her winter boots, and no, she couldn’t explain why.
“You’d think I’d have this down by now,” she muttered as she placed the last set of dishes into the cabinet. The kitchen was small but efficient with wooden cabinets painted a soft green and pristine white appliances. Her striped tea towels and floral apron added a nice splash of color, but her gaze kept drifting out to her overgrown garden and that tall fence.
Shaking her head, she turned back to the kitchen and opened Flora’s basket. A loaf of rustic homemade bread and a jar of homemade blackberry jam. A bundle of dried lavender and sage wrapped in brown paper. A bottle of wine that had no label, but when she held it up to the light, the liquid inside seemed to shimmer slightly, like it contained captured starlight.
Curious, she poured a small amount into one of her vintage glasses and took a sip. It was sweet but with a surprising, peppery finish that made her tongue tingle and left a pleasant warmth in her stomach. It was nothing like any wine she had ever tasted. She took another sip, then set the glass aside.
At the bottom of the basket was a small paper bag with a handwritten note.For the bunny.Inside was a colorful mix of dried herbs and what looked like little pellets of compressed hay. She picked up the note, reading it again with a frown.
I really don’t understand this bunny obsession.
But Flora’s words echoed in her mind.The gesture counts for something.Maybe it was some type of weird Fairhaven Falls welcome wagon tradition. If she was going to put down roots here, maybe it was best to just play along.
Slipping on her boots and a thick cardigan, she grabbed the bag of “bunny food” and went out into the backyard. The snow crunched under her feet, the cold air sharp and clean. She walked towards the fence, the overgrown garden brushing against her jeans, then started scattering the contents of the bag along the base of the perfectly straight cedar planks.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
Her heart nearly stopped.
The voice came from somewhere above and behind her. Deep, rough, with an edge of barely controlled irritation. She spun around, stumbled backwards, and found herself pressed against the fence looking up at the largest man she’d ever seen.
No. Not a man. An Other.
He towered over her—six foot four at least, maybe taller—with shoulders broad enough to block out the sun. His ears rose from the top of his head, long and pointed and covered in the same silvery grey fur that seemed to coat his entire body including the strong, angular lines of his face.Rabbit ears?He was a rabbit Other?
Despite the cold he was only wearing jeans and a flannel shirt with the sleeves rolled up, revealing forearms corded with muscle. His eyes were a startlingly bright blue, and they were fixed on her with an expression of pure annoyance.
“I asked you a question.” His ears flicked backwards in a gesture that radiated irritation. “What are you doing with that?”
“I—nothing! I mean—” Her voice came out squeaky. She cleared her throat and tried again. “I just moved in next door? Sara Cartwright. I’m the new?—”
“I know who you are.” The words came out flat and unimpressed. “The whole town knows. Flora’s been telling everyone within earshot about the new kindergarten teacher.”
“Right. Yes. That’s me.” She stuck out her hand automatically, the way she’d been taught to greet parents at back-to-school night. “Nice to meet you.”
He stared at her hand like it might bite him, and she awkwardly let it drop.
Great start, Sara. Really nailing this whole first impression thing.
“I’m Ben Holloway,” he said reluctantly after a pause that stretched just past uncomfortable. “I own the Moonlight Tavernin town. And I’d appreciate it if you kept your… pranks… to yourself.”
“Pranks?” She blinked. “What pranks?”
His ears twitched again. “The treats, Miss Cartwright.”
“Sara. And the treats weren’t?—”
“Did Flora put you up to this?” His voice dropped into a dangerous rumble. “Because I’ve told her a hundred times, I’m not interested in being set up, and I don’t need some human newcomer thinking she can?—”
