‘So, are you going to find your favourite Tucker brother to usher in the autumnal days with?’ teased Lara, hitting send and putting her phone away. ‘I mean, after tonight, it’s pretty clear that you can take your pick.’
My painted hummingbird smarted.
‘That’s not what I’m doing,’ I said, perhaps a bit too defensively. ‘They’re family friends.Life-longfamily friends. They’re … like brothers to me.’
Lara shrieked with laughter. ‘Oh, babe. That old line? When someone says they’rejust like a little sisterorlike a brother, you’re in the danger zone. Love is in the air. Or, in your case, magic.’
I swallowed.All right, so perhaps there was something there. Perhaps this magic-in-the-air thing was one giant whisperwind trying to tell me something.
But how could I even go there? The boys had lost their dad this past year, and the household was still dealing with that. If something happened, then how would that affect my relationship with theotherTucker boy? Or with Rosie, who had always been so sweet and generous with me?
And, worse, what if something subsequently wentwrong? It wasn’t like I was gifted at embarking upon healthy, long-term relationships with good communication and boundaries. Take Lachlan, for example, who’d run every discussion through a chatbot before sharing his thoughts. And Julian, who had been utterly obsessed with the Roman Empire to the point that I wished it had fallen earlier. And oh god, what about Cooper, who had been so determined to lean in to his name that he’d started making wine barrels and had roped me in to helping sell them on Etsy.
‘We’re just friends,’ I reiterated lamely.
Lara wagged her finger at me. ‘Repeat it all you want, butfriendsis not the vibe I’m seeing here. And not to rainon your parade, but I think things have already changed. You can’t tell me you didn’t notice how they were both staring at you. Hungry eyes. There was a whole eighties song about it.’
‘Oh, I know. I’ve watchedDirty Dancingwith you like fifteen times.’
‘This could be your moment. One of them could do the lift with you.’ Lara pretended to make a running leap, but the alcohol was working against her. One of her heels went flying, arcing through the air on a clear collision course with a guy in a skeleton onesie.
As Lara cringed, I snapped my fingers, and a stream of magic helped the shoe manage a neat landing in Skeleton Onesie Guy’s hand.
‘Shoe! I have an errant shoe. Is my Cinderella around?’ called the guy, pulling down his onesie hood to reveal striking cheekbones and dark eyes beneath equally dark lashes. Lara’s cringe instantly adjusted into a supermodel pose. The whole cocked-hip thing worked quite well when you were missing a shoe.
‘There you are,’ he said, passing Lara the shoe, which she slid back on, using his arm for balance.
‘You made it!’ exclaimed Lara, as Skeleton Onesie Guy wrapped his arms around her. She glanced between the two of us, as though contemplating an introduction.
‘This is … Jack,’ she said at last.
‘And you’re Molly,’ said Jack, offering a combination handshake-hug.
I raised an eyebrow, trying to figure out what was going on here. I didn’t know Jack, but Jack somehow knew me, which meant that Lara knew him well enough to have mentioned me. Was Lara, who’d sworn off relationships with the determination of a Catholic priest (although not for the same reasons), actually dating someone?
‘All right if I go watch the fireworks?’ she murmured,although it wasn’t a question, really. She was already floating off over the grass alongside Jack.
Jack, who was in her phone! As his actual name, and not as Skeleton Onesie Guy.
I watched them go, rubbing at my bare upper arms as the evening air started to gather a bite to it.
‘Blanket?’
It was Finn, coming by with said blanket over his arm like a waiter at a fancy restaurant. From his smile, he seemed as tipsy as could be expected based on the Summerween parties of years past. The ones I could remember, anyway.
I let him drape me in the blanket, a cobweb lace one he’d bought from one of the vendor tents, laughing as he used his magic to wrap me like a mummy.
‘I think it’s better as a shawl,’ I said, extricating myself. ‘Like something Morticia might wear.’
I folded the blanket, then looped it over my arms, twirling to show how the cobwebs wafted in the light breeze.
‘You’re absolutely right,’ he said approvingly. He looked as though he wanted to say something else, but shook it off. I supposed the whole magical-storm issue was not up for discussion. Unless he was waiting for me to bring it up?
He saved me from my thoughts by asking, ‘So, what are your bets for the fireworks tonight?’
‘Pumpkin, candle … bat?’ I suggested. ‘No, wand. Actually, newt.’
‘I’m going with witch’s hat, spellbook, skull.’
