I think every single person I know in Riddle Hill—which is almost everyone—comes through our doors at some point to offer congratulations and make a purchase. Five customers placed special orders for birthday cakes and even one wedding cake, which is pretty exciting. In a weird way, Rafe’s vandalism actually helped drum up extra support for our shop. And word has spread about the handsome werewolf who’s part owner of the bakery; a lot of the ladies have come to flirt with Teddy.
What’s that old expression? Something about learning to grin and bear it? I haven’t mastered that trick yet, especially around flighty young faeries who have no compunction about fluttering their eyelashes at my fiancé. Sometimes Teddy has to wrap an arm around my waist to keep me from growling at them.
After her shift, Cassia stops in with Olivia, who rushes over to Teddy. “Hi, Mr. Uncle Teddy,” she says brightly.
“There’s no need to call me Mister,” Teddy chuckles, “since I’m joining your family.” He nods at the desserts on display. “You can have anything you’d like, so long as your mom says it’s okay.”
Olivia hops around and cries, “Anything?”
“Oneof anything,” clarifies Cassia.
Olivia wanders over to the glass case to examine the selection, pacing back and forth to make sure she doesn’t miss a single option. Finally, she points at a giant oatmeal-chocolate-chip cookie.
“Let’s ask Uncle Teddy to wrap it up,” says Cassia. “You can have that cookieafterdinner.”
“Okay, Mommy.” Olivia skips to the window to watch the cars go by on Main Street.
“Are you really sure you want a December wedding at Mooncrest Inn?” asks Cassia, who’s both my maid of honor and my wedding planner.
My face falls; I’ve always dreamt of getting married during my favorite time of the year. I know I’ll be super busy with the bakery in December (at least I hope so), but there’s something about the crisp winter air, crunch of snow underfoot, and extra holiday cheer that makes my heart sing. And I adore Mooncrest Inn, the only five-star resort for supernaturals in Wisconsin; it’s my first choice for a wedding venue, and my second, and my third. “I guess Mooncrest Inn books up pretty far in advance.”
“I’m fine with anything so long as it’s this year!” exclaims Teddy, planting a kiss on my headwrap. “The day after tomorrow works for me.”
I give his muscular bicep a playful slap. “That’s not romantic.”
“Oh, sweetheart,” Teddy growls low in my ear. “I’ll make sure it’sveryromantic.”
I suppress a giggle. “I’m serious, Teddy. I really want to be married at Mooncrest Inn, and I adore the Christmas season. But I suppose we could do it in November, if there’s availability.”
“Well, I just want to be sure you’re still interested in December,” says Cassia, her green eyes sparkling with excitement. “Because there was a cancelation at Mooncrest Inn in December!”
“That’s amazing!” I squeal, waiting for Cassia to tell me the date I’ll become Mrs. Leslie Theodore Barker.
She pauses for dramatic effect. “How does December 22nd sound?”
“It sounds perfect!” Teddy and I say together, and then I’m flinging my arms around his neck, and he’s lifting me off my feet. Cassia chuckles at our antics as Olivia jumps up and down, clapping her hands.
I might have clipped wings, a new business to launch, and nagging worries about villainous Rafe, but I doubt you could find a happier kitchen faerie anywhere.
Chapter 36
Beady-Eyed Troll
TEDDY
Wednesday, August 15
“Are you sure this is the right address?” I glance over at Catbeam Spellman, who’s furiously chewing on her bottom lip. She’s dressed like a mad magician, in purple coattails, baggy red pantaloons, orange shirt with a ruffled front, and a green top hat she’s holding in her lap. Apparently Catbeam has been hired to entertain eighteen second graders this afternoon at a birthday party.
We’re parked in a small clearing inside the dense forest that forms the southern boundary of Riddle Hill, staring at a dingy, one-room hut. The woods are so thick and close here that tree branches scraped against the sides of Miss Dragonfly’s Cadillac as I drove down the private road; I’ll have to buff out those scratches later with a polishing cloth and plenty of elbow grease.
“Of course I’m sure,” Catbeamgrumps. “But before we enter, there are a few rules you need to know when dealing with trolls.”
“O-okay.”
She holds up her fist, counting off the rules on her fingers.
“One. Never, ever accept their initial offer, or their second or third. Trolls love to haggle.
