“It’s just a car.” Ethan shrugged, though his heart pounded in his chest like it knew better.
It was so much more than a car. It was decades of memories. It was the car he’d learned to drive in. The one his grandma used to let him steer down the gravel road, knuckles white with concentration. It was the same car he’d driven Leticia to the hospital in when she was nine months pregnant, both of them sweating and bickering because the A/C only worked when you hit the dashboard just right. He’d spent an entire afternoon trying to figure out how to secure a car seat in the back, hands fumbling and his whole life shifting under his feet.
It had rust in the corners, the radio only played one station, and he had to jiggle the key to get the engine to turn, but it had stayed with him through everything.
“You’re sure?” Honey asked.
“Yeah,” he said softly.
But he wasn’t sure.
He wasn’t sure about much these days. He didn’t have a choice. The bills weren’t waiting. The repairs weren’t getting cheaper. Selling the car was inevitable. At least this way, it would be fast. Not painless, but maybe over quicklyenough that he wouldn’t feel the full weight of it until it was already done.
Honey must have seen the shift in his face, because she stepped forward, slipping into the space between him and Trent. “It’s not for sale.”
Trent’s expression soured. “Then no goats.”
For a breath, the sharp pull of consequences tightened like a noose around his neck. He should just get it over with. But before he could say anything, Honey snapped into motion.
She didn’t raise her voice. She simply adjusted her stance, tucked a stray hair behind her ear, and turned to Trent like she was about to audit his entire existence.
“I’m well aware of your goat problem,” she said.
Trent narrowed his eyes. “What goat problem?”
Honey just hummed, and the corner of her mouth lifted almost imperceptibly.
Ethan’s heart lifted. She had a plan. Even if he didn’t know what it was, just knowing she was taking the reins gave him a strange kind of peace.
She smiled sweetly. “The one where you’re overstocked, nearing pasture limits, and can’t offload the extras without raising questions about how you’re managing such impossible profits without using magic. I’m sure if I include it in my report, the bureau would not only flag your operation for being outside requirements, but I presume, if they took a closer look at your operation, there might be some questions about how you manage without violating the rules of magic as a non-anchor house.”
His jaw flexed.
“Knowing all that, well, it’s probably best if three goats quietly find a new home by next week.”
He sneered at her. “You want me to give you my goats?”
“Iwant to help you solve a logistics issue,” she said sweetly. “We’ll take three—gentle, socialized, no health flags—and feature them in the petting zoo at the festival. Your name on the signs, Trent. Your goats making kids happy. It’s basically free PR.”
He didn’t answer. Ethan didn’t even know what the hell she was talking about, but the satisfaction of watching Trent blink, caught off guard for the first time maybe ever, was sweeter than any pie in the bake-off.
She leaned in, lowering her voice. “And this town loves a man who contributes. Especially a man who solves problems before they become headlines.”
Trent thought about it, but Ethan already knew the way it would go. He hadn’t asked Honey to step in, but damn if he didn’t like the way she did it.
“Fine.” Trent sniffed. “I’ll have the boys drop ‘em off in a couple days. They need weaning.”
Ethan’s jaw dropped. There was something surgical about Honey’s execution. Clean and cold and weirdly elegant, like the emotional equivalent of a scalpel. She hadn’t puffed up or lost her temper. She’d just looked a grown man in the eye and dressed him down.
“It’s been a pleasure,” Honey said, turning on her heel with a smile she didn’t bother to hide.
Ethan felt a lightening in his chest. It wasn’t pride exactly. Not attraction, though it might have been partially that. Just a stunned appreciation for a woman who could walk into his life, see it falling apart, and still act like he was worth defending.
Ethan felt a ridiculous urge to skip across the grassy field. Just flat-out kick his heels and run like he’d won something. Which, he supposed, he had.
Then Honey stopped short. “Oh, god. Did I overstep?”she asked, her voice suddenly tight with worry. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to. When you asked me to come, I thought you wanted my help, but maybe I pushed too hard. I wasn’t trying to embarrass you or?—”
“Honey.”
