Giving in to the pull of the mate bond, he sets his hands on my shoulders, smiling down at me. “That’s exactly what it means.”
My relief is tangible. A burst of summer magic spreads through the room—a joyful bomb.
Rowan inhales sharply as the magic hits him, laughing as euphoria clouds his senses. “That was potent.”
“Sorry.”
“Are youthathappy?”
“I’m so happy,” I whisper.
He sets his hand on the side of my head, affectionately brushing his thumb over my cheek. I think he’s going to break his own rules and kiss me, but then the back door opens. We leap apart, the picture of guilt.
Dad pauses, assessing the magic in the room. Then he narrows his eyes, suspicious. “You’re awfully happy, Kit.”
Thank goodness I’m not sparkling.
I clasp my hands, trying to look innocent. “I’m just excited to see the gnome habitat you’re working on.”
“Sure.” He eyes Rowan and me, not believing it for a minute. Gruffly, he says, “Let’s head home.”
“If Rowan isn’t leavingfor college, does that mean you don’t need me?” Nadine asks, her face falling.
I watch my friend in the mirror’s reflection. She sits in front of me on my bed while I braid her hair like we used to do when we were kids. It’s almost bedtime, and the cottage feels cozy with all my family here.
Mom’s crocheting in the living room, and Dad is making chocolate-covered almonds for the gnomes. Chester sleeps on the couch, soaking up my mom’s comforting vibes. The only one missing is Rowan.
“No, I do,” I say to my friend. “He’s still going to be incredibly busy with his studies, and I can’t run the tea shop on my own.”
She turns to look at me, nearly yanking the tail of her braid from my hand. “You’re sure?”
“I’m positive. In fact, why don’t you come down Monday, and I’ll start showing you the ropes.”
“Really?”
I was hoping Nadine might visit this weekend, but she’s helping my mother reorganize my kitchen cabinets—a project that holds no allure to me but makes the autumn pixies in my life abundantly happy. To each their own.
“Of course,” I say. “And we can walk to the library. You said you wanted to check it out.”
“I do. I made a few little hedgehogs before we left, just in case.”
Nadine has a very specific, unique hobby. She crafts darling pinecone hedgehogs and leaves them for people to find. Libraries are her gift location of choice, but she’s left them in neighborhood book exchange boxes, visitor centers, parks—anywhere safe from the weather that isn’t a store.
I have one on my nightstand.
“Oh!” I exclaim, realizing he’s no longer alone. As soon as I place the hair tie at the end of Nadine’s braid, I leave the bed to admire my new hedgehog. “She’s darling.”
The body is a pinecone, but Nadine used thick dry grass to construct the head, legs, and other features. She’s wearing a cute gingham dress that I know Nadine made herself, and she holds a miniature muffin tin. She even has tiny oven mitts over her paws.
“I worked on her for quite a while,” Nadine says proudly. “I’m glad you like her.”
“I love her. Thank you.”
She leaves the bed, stepping into her slippers. “Let’s try one of your tea cocoa recipes.”
“Should we? My list is in the kitchen.”
“Will we be in your way if we make cocoa?” I ask my dad when we enter the kitchen.
