The owl studies me, perhaps unsure why I’m suddenly emotional.
Which makes two of us.
I scrub my palms over my eyes, probably smearing my mascara, and then turn to Ryder. “Okay, what’s your idea?”
“Hazel said Rowan needs a jolt of emotion to spark the change, right?”
“She did.”
“How badly do you want Rowan back?”
I look at the owl. “I would trade the tea shop to Mr. Eastwilden if it would bring him back.”
Rowan flaps his wings, not liking that.
“Thankfully, that’s not an option.” Ryder stretches his back, preparing for…something. “Okay, here’s what we’re going to do?—”
“Why do you look so edgy?”
“We’re going to use your bond. I’m nearly positive it’ll work, but Rowan might kill me once he’s himself again.”
Rowan lets out a low hoo. It sounds like a warning.
I look between them, confused. “Our bond? How are you going to do that?”
With a stoic look on his face, Ryder closes the distance between us. It only takes three steps with his long legs. He huffs out a breath as though he’s about to do something extremely difficult. “I’m going to kiss you.”
Rowan screeches, but I laugh at the absurd statement, pressing my hand to Ryder’s chest. “Absolutely not.”
The elf shakes his head, and then he moves even closer. “I don’t think a toy fire truck will work for Rowan.”
“Maybe we could try ice cream?”
Chuckling, Ryder leans down, moving slowly enough that I know he has no intention of going through with it. “How do you like to be kissed, Kit? This will probably be our only chance, so I’d like to make it good.”
Rowan screeches again, leaving the perch and dive-bombing Ryder.
“Ow, blast it, Rowan!” Ryder snaps. “If you don’t like it, just change already. I swear I’ll do it.” He wraps an arm around my back as if to prove it.
“Ryder, wait,” I protest. “I don’t want?—”
My sentence is cut off by a whir of magic and a strong gust of wind. Suddenly, Rowan stands behind Ryder, yanking him back.
Out of Ryder’s embrace, I quickly turn away, bracing my hand against a storage shelf while the men bicker.
“Are you out of your fool mind?” Rowan demands.
“It worked, didn’t it?” Ryder counters. “Now get dressed. No one wants to see that much of you.”
I bite my bottom lip, trying not to laugh with giddy relief. “Your clothes are in the tote bag on the hook, Rowan.”
I hear the rustling of fabric, and then Rowan says, “Get out of here, Ryder.”
“I’m going to see if Nadine needs some help at the counter,” Ryder says to me, not one bit repentant. “Don’t hurry down.”
I’ll owe all my friends a paycheck at this rate.
As soon as the door closes, I ask Rowan, “Are you decent?”
