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“Absolutely,” I say.
He sets our picnic basket on the ground and takes his time gently removing lids to smell each scent, pausing often to sniff the coffee beans and clear the prior fragrance.
In the end, he chooses our Driftwood scent, magicked with a subtle calm that puts anyone around the wearer at ease.
“Great choice. It’s one of my favorites,” I say.
He presses the top once, and the briny, fresh scent fills the space between us.
“I love it,” he says, putting the cap back on and gently placing it in our basket. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. Ready for our picnic?”
“I am.”
I feel my father’s eyes follow us out of the shop, and it feels good to breathe the cool autumn air. An easy breeze picks up around us, and it instantly makes me think of Wolfe.
Floating above the water with him.
Being pulled to the surface by him.
Lying in the sand next to him.
I shake my head and dispel the images, dislodging them as if they’re debris in a gutter.
I lead Landon to a beach on the eastern shore so we can see the mainland in the distance as we eat. Most mainlanders like to see their city across the Passage—just another way to make them feel more at ease with us.
I spread one of our blankets on the sand, a perfectly chosen spot that backs up to a dune with long grasses and shrubs. It gives us some sense of privacy, and I settle onto the blanket as Landon empties our basket. He pulls out a bundle of fresh lavender, studying it.
“How are the flowers here always in bloom?”
“Magic,” I say. “How else could we keep our shops open year round?”
“Fascinating.” He sets the flowers down and sits beside me. At first we’re stiff, each hugging our own edge of the blanket, but as the autumn sun glides across the sky and the tide goes out, we relax. The space between us begins to feel like air again, not an invisible wall we dare not climb.
I take a sip of rose water and look out at the mainland. It will be my home after the Covenant Ball, and this picnic will be nothing but a memory, a moment in time that slipped by me too soon.
Landon offers me the last bit of cheese and leans back onto his elbows, staring out across the Passage.
“I was skeptical, but I have to say, that was undoubtedly the best cheese of my life,” he says.
“I wouldn’t steer you wrong.” I blot my mouth and place my cloth napkin back in the basket.
“No, Tana, I don’t believe you would.” His voice is laced with a seriousness that wraps around my insides. He looks at me then, his amber-brown eyes fixed on my own, and it is suddenly difficult to turn away.
We stay that way for several moments, and my heart speeds up as he inches his face closer to mine. I’m frozen, completely still, unsure of what to do.
Part of me wants to close the distance between us, to press my lips to his and let myself get lost in the moment. I wonder if dragonflies would erupt in my stomach, if a fire would start in my core and spread to the rest of me.
I wonder if I would want to keep kissing him over and over till death do us part.
But the rest of me is scared, because if dragonflies don’t take flight and a fire doesn’t spark, I’d rather not know until after we make our vows to one another. It wouldn’t change anything, of course, but it’s nice to believe that there’s the possibility of passion.
Landon pauses at the halfway point, but I don’t move closer to meet him. His eyes search mine, and something like understanding seems to pass over his face. He nods and pulls away, creating enough space for me to breathe again.
“Tana,” he says, his voice quiet, “will you promise me something?”
“Yes.”
