The second goal is a little more personal and not as urgent. Or urgent at all. I want to see if I can figure out the identity of Rowan’s cousin. I can’t ask around, obviously. People will want to know how I know about him when I just arrived in town.
And all right, it’s less of a goal and more of a burning curiosity. Did Rowan’s fiancée and cousin end up getting married? Did they leave town together?
And why did Laverna stay quiet all that time? Was she secretly in love with him? Is that why my aunt remained a spinster? Because the man she harbored feelings for disappeared right before his wedding and turned up on her doorstep?
It’s all such a mystery, and I want to get to the bottom of it. But mostly, I’d like to help Rowan return to his normal self and reunite with his family before it’s too late.
Just before noon, a knock sounds at the tea shop door, pulling my attention away from my tea search. I still have the closed sign up, so I doubt it’s a tourist.
Maybe it’s Ash.
I close my laptop and leave the office, entering the upstairs living space. Technically, I think this area was designed as an apartment. There are two rooms, this living area, a full bathroom, and a small kitchen. But instead of taking on a tenant, Laverna used the apartment for inventory and her office.
It’s cozy up here, with large windows and even more wilting houseplants.
I walk down the stairs and end up in the hall that leads to the tea garden. But instead of turning right, I head left, into the shop.
I don’t recognize the man who waits at the door. He looks like he’s about to knock again, but when he sees me through the glass, he lowers his hand.
“Hello,” I say when I open the door, my eyes sweeping over my visitor.
He offers me a warm, dimpled smile. “You must be Kathleen.”
His magic immediately tells me he’s fae, but not high fae. His skin is golden, with olive undertones. He’s tall, but not as tall as Ash, and he wears his light brown hair short.
His eyes are startlingly green—soft like moss but vibrant enough to be noticeable. And he’s gorgeous—as seems to be the trend in the fae community.
No wonder Moss Hollow is so popular with the humans.
“Everyone calls me Kit,” I tell him.
His smile becomes mischievous. “I thought you were a pixie.”
I frown. “Iama pixie.”
He wriggles his eyebrows. “You have the name of a fox shifter.”
Rolling my eyes, I laugh at his audacity. “You sound like my grandmother.”
He chuckles, showing off his boyish dimples again. “I’m Ryder. I work at the bakery.”
“All right, Ryder who works at the bakery. What can I do for you?”
“I’m here on business, but I’ll stay for tea if you ask me.”
“Tell me your business, and I’ll decide if I want to invite you in.”
“Fair enough. We had a contract with your aunt. She sold a few varieties of our pastries, and we stocked some of her tea. We would like to continue that arrangement if it suits you.”
“Well, I don’t know. I’ve never had your pastries. What if they aren’t any good?”
“Negotiating for free samples—I respect that. Maybe you would enjoy a chocolate croissant? Or a raspberry scone? Would you be charmed by a slice of classic apple pie, or prefer a comforting hot chocolate chip cookie?” He shakes his head, his expression becoming mournful. “I wouldn’t know where to begin. That settles it—I must get to know you better before I choose which samples to bring.”
I laugh again, stepping away from the door and waving him in. “Have a cup of tea, on the house. You can be my first customer.”
I hold up my hand, stopping him just before he steps over the threshold. “You’re not an imp, are you?”
He doesn’tlooklike he uses dark magic. But how would I know? I’ve never met an imp before.
