“Now what?” I find these faerie-troll negotiation tactics thoroughly draining, but Catbeam is practically bouncing on her toes.
“Now it’s time for us to go. We’ll come back ofcourse, once Talo comes to his senses about his asking price.”
“Seriously?” I grumble. “Sophie’s birthday is the day after tomorrow! And frankly, I’d rather get my butt kicked by my entire pack then go through that stress-inducing shopping experience again.”
Catbeam chuckles as I accelerate down the not-a-driveway, tree branches thwacking against the sides of the car. “You want the gold ring with the emerald, right?”
“It’s perfect.” I nod. “You don’t think anyone else is going to snap it up while we’re dilly-dallying, do you?”
“Of course not; Talo wants another incantation, and since I’m the second-most powerful faerie in Wisconsin, he wants one of mine.”
“What if the most powerful faerie in Wisconsin shows up?”
Catbeam grins. “Phoebe isn’t in the market for jewelry, sonny. You’ll be giving Sophie that ring for her birthday or my name isn’t Catbeam Gladiolus Magnificat Spellman.”
I have to bite my bottom lip to keep from laughing out loud at her ridiculous faerie name.
Chapter 37
Perfect and Exquisite
TEDDY
Friday, August 17
I’m Sophie’s date for Pru and Vreeland’s wedding, and tonight is the rehearsal dinner. I’ve met the vampire couple twice now, and I really like them. I can see Vreeland and myself becoming friends, something I never would’ve expected before moving to a supernatural village where werewolves and vampires freely intermingle.
Although I’m not part of the bridal party, I plan to drive Sophie to the chapel for the rehearsal and later to the dinner afterward. I’m not letting her out of my sight for two reasons; today is her birthday, and I’m still uneasy about Rafe. Despite the fact no one has heard from him since the vandalism episode, I don’t think Rafe has suddenly grown a conscience.
I’m planning a proper birthday celebration for Sophie on Sunday, but I want to give her the ringbefore we leave. I keep patting my jacket pocket to make sure the little black box is still tucked inside; after dealing with Catbeam and Talo’s nutso negotiations—we had to return to his shop two more times to secure the deal—I’m anxious to see the ring on Sophie’s finger.
I’m sitting on the brown sofa beside Zosia, giving the white fuzzball a belly rub, when Sophie’s bedroom door opens. Rising nervously from the couch, my fingers graze the box in my pocket as I wait for her to enter the living room. But when she does, I simply stand there and forget to breathe.
Sophie is wearing a short, sparkly, copper-colored dress that hugs her figure in all the right places. Her hair is down, which is rare these days given the long hours she spends baking, and her gorgeous chestnut waves cascade over shoulders and down her back. Her pillowy lips are a glossy shade of deep coral, and her gray eyes twinkle as I stare at her; I’m awestruck.
At some point I manage to croak, “Wow!”
“What’s the matter, wolf-boy… fox got your tongue?”
“I’m okay now,” I murmur, grinning. “I just forgot to breathe for a minute back there.”
Sophie chuckles as she breezes past me to the door. “I guess we better get going; as the maid of honor I need to be on time.”
“Wait… please. I have your birthday gift.”
Sophie turns around, her brow puckered. “But we’re celebrating on Sunday.”
“This is burning a hole in my pocket," I say, withdrawing the velvet box from my jacket and handing it toher. “And today is your birthday, and well, I want you to have this now.”
Sophie stares up at me and then down at the box in her hand, which I notice is quivering slightly. “Go on and open it,” I say, suddenly unsure of myself. “And if you don’t like it… we can…”
“Oh, Teddy!” Sophie squeals as she opens the box. “This is exquisite… it’s absolutely perfect!”
“Exquisite and perfect are words I reserve only for you,” I rasp low in my throat.
Sophie starts fanning her face with her free hand, her eyes glistening. “Oh no—I think I’m going to cry! Now I’m really going to be late.”
“Please don’t cry.” Taking her perfect, exquisite face in my hands, I plant a butter-soft kiss on her lush lips, careful not to muss her hair.
