He chuckled. “You’ve stayed in much worse places. We both have.”
She smiled knowingly. “Yes. Yes, we have, Rowan.”
He wasn’t sure if it was the length of time they’d gone without speaking or the way she said his name that had him struggling to breathe. He managed to compose himself as Kiera unslung a satchel from around her body and took something out.
Rowan recognized the set of knives, their curved handles that fit perfectly in her hands. The sleek sharpness and the sound they made when she cut through the air. “You still have them,” he said.
Kiera nodded. “No one has ever given me a better gift.”
“It’s hard to receive gifts when I’m the only person on this side of the veil you’ve told when your birthday is.”
Her darkening eyes cut to him as if she might retort, but she only smiled instead.
“Are you ready to be here?” Rowan asked, keeping his voice low in the hopes it would take longer for Miles to find them.
“I am.” Kiera put away the knives. “Whatever the estate requires, I stand ready to serve.”
“Look at you. Part of a team.” Rowan chortled. Seeing her twice in two days and having eaten a few too many pastries made him cheerier than normal.
“I’ve been known to be a team player,” Kiera shot back. “Though there are many who disagree. Many who made sure I can never go…”
She struggled to make the word “home” leave her tongue. Perhaps it was because she’d been gone for so long and didn’t consider it a home anymore. If not there, where? Kiera had never called anywhere home. Rowan’s secret hope was that she would come to think of this place as such. “I’ll let you unpack,” he stated at last.
He turned to leave the room. When he was away from her presence, he began to breathe easier.
A familiar smirk met him in the hallway. Stacy kept her voice low as she asked, “Spending some alone time with your fae friend, Rowan?”
“Oh, shut up,” he hissed. “We were hiding from Miles.”
“I can see why. His shouting woke me up.” She didn’t seem irritated. Stacy was grinning. She wore a blouse in a pleasant shade of green, enhancing that color in her eyes. “I smell pastries downstairs. Please tell me there are some left.”
Rowan offered his arm to lead her downstairs. “I hid some before they arrived. Otherwise, our new groundskeeper would have eaten them all.”
Stacy barely saw anyone all day. She holed up in her office to tend to quarterly taxes and other matters pertaining to the legal practice she soon hoped to begin. It wasn’t until her eyes were red from concentration and words were swimming before her that she noticed it was late in the afternoon. The golden hour had set her office aglow, and many of the sprites dozed in its warmth.
Her stomach growled a reminder that she hadn’t eaten since the pastries Rowan made that morning. She stood, stretching, then ambled through the gardens toward the back of the house. Though the grounds had not changed much since this morning, she sensed something had shifted. Perhaps Miles had already begun tending to it, although Rowan was not having them start until tomorrow.
Inside, she found Kiera had started work, too. She stood at the kitchen stove, concentrating on stirring whatever was in the pot in front of her. It smelled good enough to make Stacy’s mouth water.
“Here, I thought no one’s cooking was better than Rowan’s,” she commented. “I can already tell you have him beat.”
The sidhe fae turned, a light smile on her lips.
“Don’t say that too often,” Rowan grumbled from the pantry. “It’ll go to her head.”
Kiera lowered her voice. “Rowan’s only jealous, but he shouldn’t be. He’s the one who suggested I come here.”
Stacy apologized for not being around all day, but Kiera told her not to worry.
The back door opened, and Miles strolled in, covered in dirt. Rowan scowled at the muddy footprints he left on the kitchen floor. “Food ready? I’m starving!” the groundskeeper stated.
Kiera threw him a glare, and he slowly backed out of the room. He cast a wink at Stacy, who grinned, then he disappeared. “We’ll have to hope he cleans up before dinner,” Rowan muttered as he emerged from the pantry with an array of spices that Kiera immediately began adding to the pot.
“Are most sidhe fae good cooks?” Stacy asked, leaning against the counter.
“Of all the talents my kind have, cooking is not one of them,” Kiera replied without taking her eyes off the food. “I picked up these skills after.”
After what? Stacy wondered, but Rowan shot her a warning look.
Whatever had gone on in Kiera’s past, Rowan seemed to know enough about it to anticipate Kiera wouldn’t want to discuss the matter. The dryad changed the subject. “Can we expect Amy and her…friend home for dinner?”
“She said they would be.” Stacy turned to Kiera. “I think you and my friend Amy will get along. She’s human. That is, without magic, but she’s seen more than most humans do of our world.” Even as Stacy said this, she knew her version of the supernatural world was much smaller than what Kiera had experienced.
“I look forward to meeting her,” the fae woman replied.
Kiera soon served a lamb stew paired with freshly baked bread and garlic sauce. The group waited for Amy, but when she didn’t show up, they decided to start eating. “She must have gotten stuck in traffic or something,” Rowan murmured.
Stacy tried to ignore her apprehension.
When they finished dinner, the sun was near setting, and there was still no sign of Amy. Stacy tried calling both her and Spencer, but neither answered. That’s unusual, she thought as she stood in the kitchen. Rowan and Kiera were at the sink, with one washing dishes and the other drying. Stacy had cleared the table and counters while Miles stood by, babbling about the state of the grounds and how he’d seen much worse before.
However, Stacy was distracted by texting Amy.
STACY
If you and Spencer want more alone time, say so.
