How awful to spend much of your life as a bird because of a stupid mistake.
“All right,” I say with a sigh. “Let me get settled here. As soon as I figure out how to run a small business and exist without a car, then maybe we’ll see if we can change you back.”
I turn when he doesn’t answer and find him scowling. He flies to the counter and peers into the infusers. “That’s too much tea.”
“It’s only a few tablespoons,” I argue. “And go away. You shouldn’t be up here—it’s not sanitary.”
“A few tablespoons is about four teaspoons too many for those cups. Think about the amount of tea in a tea bag.”
I scoot him off the counter, admiring how soft his feathers are—though I’m certainly not going to tell him. “Or here’s an idea—we could save time and just use tea bags.”
He scoffs as he returns to his perch. “Laverna’s customers are going to eat you alive.”
I dump most of the tea back into their respective containers. “Are there a lot of them?”
“Several local regulars, and many out-of-town patrons who make a point of dropping by when they visit. Then, of course, there are the casual browsers who can’t tell a tea from a tisane. You’ll fit right in with them.”
“I don’t know what a tisane is.”
“My point exactly.”
I pour hot water over the tea. “Can owls have caffeine?”
“I’m not an owl.”
“But you kind of are—no offense. Maybe you should have decaf instead?”
“You forgot to set a timer.”
“I usually just leave it in there until it’s tea-colored.”
“How have you existed?—”
The chime of the doorbell cuts him off.
“Someone’s here,” I say dumbly.
“That’s usually what that sound means, yes.”
“What should I do?”
“Answer it?”
Still feeling like I’m trespassing, I leave the kitchen and walk through the living room. After taking a fortifying breath, I open the door…and then freeze.
“You must be Kathleen Merriweather,” a stupidly handsome man says.
He’s tall, he’s fit, and he wears a look of snobbish disdain like it’s an accessory to his button-up shirt, tweed waistcoat, and pressed trousers.
No doubt about it, this man is high fae.
His long blond hair is up in a knot, deceptively casual. His lips are as sharp as his jaw, but they’re the most perfect shade of soft, peachy pink. His eyes are espresso brown, with flecks of amber. They sweep over me, making me wish I’d changed into something more flattering than the T-shirt and shorts I’m wearing.
“Yes, I’m Kathleen,” I answer when I find my tongue, crossing my arms, all casual-like. “Kit, actually.”
“I’m Ash Neilfellow, treasurer of the Moss Hollow City Council. On behalf of my fellow council members, I’ve cometo welcome you to town.” He offers me the fruit basket he’s carrying.
“Thank you…” I scan the assortment of oranges, apples, and bananas and then give him a smile. “I’ve never received a welcome basket before.”
