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“No.” Careful not to drop any of their breakfast, Aisling maneuvered through the doorway and to the table near the windows. “But you would say that, as it would stop anyone from looking deeper.”

Brook shot her a pregnant look, then laughed and began the process of taking the food out of Aisling’s skirts and arranging it on the table.

After they ate, Aisling kicked back on the bed and sighed. She kept thinking there was somewhere she should be, something she should fix or finish or otherwise attend to. Especially today, the day she’d built up as the most important, the most frightening, the most crucial in her Everend Midsummer Market journey this year.

But there was Brook, brushing her long wavy hair and laughing across the room, and Aisling had nothing to do but admire her beauty. Nothing to do but ask her everything she’d ever wanted to know.

So she began with, “Where do you want to live? To make a home?”

Brook gave a little shrug, and her fine shirt slipped off one shoulder fetchingly. “I don’t mind, really. As long as I can travel. You said you’d like to travel more, yes?”

Aisling nodded. “I’d love to. Everend is so big, and my corner of it feels so small.”

Brook turned around in her chair and set aside her brush. “There are small market fairs in most of the big cities and towns—you could bring your oven and build up demand throughout the year, then in summer everyone would know where to find you again.”

“That’s… an idea.” Aisling said. “A good idea.

“Isn’t it? Brook leaned her elbow on the back of her chair, propping up her chin on it. “What about you? Where would you live?”

“It’s easier to build things in Gearwick cities, I hear. But I do think I could learn some excellent magical applications to incorporate in Emberleigh…” Aisling licked her lips, momentarily embarrassed.

But Brook only said, “We could go back and forth—depending on the season. Find the best spots for the best ingredients, even.”

And just like that, embarrassment fled. Why, oh why, had Aisling not just talked to Brook?

No. She knew why. But never again. Aisling said, “Yes! Would you mind?”

“Not at all. It’d make travels even more exciting than my aimless ramblings so far, to really be looking for something. And maybe ventures north and east—and you know, I’ve never been all the way south, to the mouth of the Portage.”

“Me neither.”

Brook stood. “We should go.”

Aisling sighed. It was hotter down south, and so the fruit was said to be very small and uncommonly sweet. “Imagine the produce.”

Brook came to her and took one of her hands. “You’re not this summer’s Sunny, Aisling. I’ve never met anyone like you.”

“Like me? Look at you!” But Aisling flushed, running her gaze up and then down Brook hungrily.

“I mean it.” Brook climbed into the bed and settled facing her, legs pulled up so their knees touched. “I’ve never really gotten up in the morning looking forward to… doing something. Something productive, I mean.”

Aisling laughed, though she believed every word of it.

Brook snorted. “I lack imagination.”

Aisling arched an eyebrow. “You do not.”

“I lack imagination outside the bedroom,” Brook corrected.

Aisling chuckled.

“But you have enough for both of us. Will it be enough for you, if I’m riding your coattails?”

Aisling pretended to consider. “What if I use you all up?”

Brook grinned, slow and hot. “Oh, would you please?”

Aisling leaned forward and tilted her face upward; Brook met her with a kiss, light and sweet.