Six

Chapter Six

Lachlan’s breath stilled as he watched Emma, waiting for her reaction, hoping he hadn’t overstepped. Her beautiful lips pulled into a soft frown, but then almost immediately curled back up into a smile. She turned toward the house, but kept one of her hands in his, pulling him along behind her.

“Let’s go,” she said.

He followed willingly, almost happily. The emotion surprised him as much as her gardens had. She might say she wasn’t interested in being his partner, but the more time they spent together, the more certain he grew that she was exactly the woman he needed—that he wanted—at his side. Her yard was like her own sacred grove, and she had to spend quite a bit of time on it for it to be so well-kept. More than that, the energy that he could sense in the soil, the warmth and care, convinced him that she would be the perfect Springtime Queen.

The Fates were at work here. Lachlan knew better than to go against them. All he had to do was convince Emma that they belonged together.

She led him up a short set of steps to her porch. A white swing hung from the ceiling, suspended by lengths of chain. The breeze flowed past them, carrying a slight tinge of iron. He fought the urge to sneeze. She opened the door, looking back to address him over her shoulder.

“I somehow doubted that Finn and Hayden remembered to lock up when they took me to our date,” she said. “Which is a good thing, because I totally forgot to bring along my purse.”

He followed her into a cozy living room. Bright sunlight streamed in from half a dozen windows. Gauzy curtains hung over them to provide privacy while letting in the light, with a sturdier fabric in deep magenta on their sides. The floors were hardwood, worn with age, but well-kept. A small navy blue couch and two goldenrod cushioned chairs sat at the edges of a rug in matching colors, surrounding a small coffee table covered in cookbooks. She pushed the door shut behind them, then kept moving through a small hallway that led to a kitchen. Lachlan had to duck to keep from hitting his head on the lintel.

If the living room had appeared cozy, the kitchen was a welcoming harbor. A rich mahogany island stood in the center of the space. Above it, a rack hung from the ceiling, supporting a dozen pots and pans in copper, blue, and shining steel. Half of the wall to their left was taken up with an enormous refrigerator. The rest held a dishwasher, a microwave set above a double oven, and a large stove with a huge hood leading to an impressive vent that fed into the wall and presumably vented outside. The center of the wall contained a picture window above a large sink.

An archway to his right led into a dining room. The rest of the right wall was covered in cabinets in the same dark mahogany as the kitchen island, along with shelves filled with spices and more cookbooks. Lachlan’s gaze was drawn to the windows opposite them, though. They flanked a door that led to the back yard. The windows were huge, their curtains drawn back to reveal a view of more raised beds and fruit trees covered in blossoms.

“No wonder my favorite grove didn’t impress you,” Lachlan said. “You live in a paradise of your own.”

“I never said it didn’t impress me.” She released her grip on him and hurried to the sink. Once she was there, she started vigorously washing her hands. “I just didn’t want to be there.”

He could tell there was a story behind her words, behind her fear. Something that involved the Fae. He also sensed that pushing her on the topic would only drive her further away. She was as skittish as a deer who had narrowly escaped a hunter. Lachlan’s hands curled into fists at the thought. Who had frightened her so badly?

How can I make them pay?

The thought surprised him. He had never felt vengeful before on another’s behalf. The emotion rose up in him, flooding him with an unfamiliar energy. He shook it off, trying to keep his attention on Emma and the present moment.

“Wash up,” she said, moving to the fridge.

He did as instructed, mimicking what he’d seen her do. Iron didn’t bother Fae of the Wheel of the Year as much as the other courts, but his skin was still itching when he finished. It was strange that Emma didn’t seem bothered at all. Perhaps becoming Fae herself hadn’t changed her as much as he might have thought.

“If you don’t know your way around a kitchen, you’re about to learn,” she said.

“I don’t have experience, but I studied cooking and kitchens over the past two weeks.”

She glanced over at him, her surprise obvious. “Why would you do that?”

“Why do you think?”

He let the question hang between them. Instead of answering, her lips tightened into a line. She turned back to the fridge and started pulling out ingredients and handing them to him.

“Put this all on the island,” she said.

“Mind telling me what we’re doing?”

“We’re stress baking. Specifically, we’re making a chocolate cake.”

Given what he knew of her, it made sense. He carried the items she handed him to the kitchen island, then watched as she gathered bowls, two circular pans, and an assortment of measuring cups and spoons. She settled into a focused routine, bringing the ingredients together while instructing him as they went along. There was a cool detachment in her interactions, as if she’d done this a thousand times and he was like every other person she’d taught. The thought conjured a dull ache in his chest.

If this was what she needed to normalize, he’d go along with it. He just hoped at some point she would actually look at him, talk to him, let him know what was going on in her head. He’d never been so intrigued by anyone before. She didn’t seem to share his interest, though. The moment the cakes were in the oven, she started on the icing. This time, she worked in reverse, pointing out ingredients and tools she was done with and telling him where to put them away.

She was finishing with loading the dishwasher when the oven beeped to let them know the cakes were done. Lachlan was standing nearby and he opened the door to remove the pans. Heat warmed his face as the hot air contained inside blasted outwards. The most amazing scent came with it, rich and chocolaty.

As he reached inside, Emma began to yell, “Hot mitts! Hot mitts!”

He paused, then straightened, turning to face her. It was the first sign of emotion he’d seen from her since they started ‘stress baking.’

“If that’s a nickname for me, I’m not sure I like it,” he said.

She let out a brief laugh, then forced a scowl. “I was trying to keep you from burning yourself.”

She pulled on a pair of oversized oven mitts that had been hanging next to the oven, then reached in and pulled out the pans one after another. A set of cooling racks were waiting nearby, so she set them there, then closed the oven door, turned it off, and hung the ‘mitts’ back up again.

“I appreciate the sentiment,” Lachlan said. “But it wouldn’t have hurt me.”

“Really?” She shook her head. “Guess it’s good to be a fairy king.”

“And a queen.”

Her scowl deepened. “How is it that we have time to do all this? Don’t you have obligations?”

“Of course. But spending this time together is more important.”

“More important than your kingly duties?”

He laughed. “I would count this among them. Besides, I have Finn to handle the minutia.”

“It’s not right to use people so you can do what you want.”

“I’m not using him.” An unpleasant tightness rose in Lachlan’s chest. “I’m matching his skills and interests with the tasks that need to be completed. Finn loves that stuff. Have you seen how meticulously he dresses? I don’t make him do that.”

“I guess you have a point there.”

“Don’t you ever ask Hayden for help with things she’s better at than you?”

Emma pulled a face half-way between a smirk and a frown. After a moment, she nodded.

“I guess so,” she said. “Hayden sometimes gives me color palettes for my baking. She’s better at that kind of stuff than I am. Her ideas and plans are amazing, but her implementation isn’t always that great. She’s straight-up terrible in the kitchen. I have a stool for her where she can keep me company and observe, and still be out of harm’s way.” She nodded toward a mahogany stool resting near one of the big windows. “I guess I’ll have to get another one so Finn can join her.”

“Or maybe a bench seat. Those two really seem to enjoy their proximity.”

Emma’s cheeks darkened. “You seemed to enjoy our proximity earlier.”

“That was actually advice from Finn.”

She turned to him, one eyebrow arched.

“Finn told me that when he and Hayden are… close… it seems as if the world falls away around them,” Lachlan said. “You were distressed by the world we were in, so I thought it might help.”

Her scowl returned, sharper than ever. “So you kissed me to manipulate me.”

“No, I did it to help you. Your powers were out of control.”

“I’m not really seeing a difference.”

Was she absolutely determined to only see the worst in him? His heart ached at the thought.

“It worked, didn’t it?” He said. When she kept scowling at him, he shrugged and went on, hoping that by opening up to her she might find a way to start to trust him, to know that he was different than all the stories she’d read. “It sure worked for me. I’ve never felt anything like it.”

“You’ve never kissed anyone before?”

He shook his head. “Not like that. The Springtime Kingdom was in danger. My job—my entire purpose in existing—is to protect it. But in that moment, the only thing I could think about was you. I was invigorated. My heart was racing, my skin prickling with energy.”

“Lust,” she said. “Your body was flooded with desire. It happens.”

“But at the same time, I felt a sense of balance and peace, of rightness, that I’d never experienced before. How can someone be flooded with desire and absolutely content at the same time?”

Her lips pulled into a thin line. She seemed to be struggling with the urge to speak. Finally, she said, “Humans don’t have an eternity to accumulate experiences. We sometimes feel everything all at once.”

That made sense with their brief lifespans. The idea of Emma going back to that, of her existence becoming so finite, intensified the ache in his chest. He couldn’t stand the thought of losing the chance to kiss her, to explore more of these feelings.

“For the Fae, our emotions are singular and enduring,” he said. “That’s probably why we don’t feel most things as deeply as humans. When we do, we can have rages that last for decades, sorrow that cripples us for centuries.”

“That sounds awful,” she said.

“It’s how we are. At least, it’s how I thought we were. Before today. It reminded me of something Hayden said.”

“Hayden?”

“She and Finn have both lent their insight to our unique situation.”

“I bet they have,” Emma said, with a wry grin.

“Hayden said that the emotion of love can sometimes be created by acts of love. That if I want to experience the feeling of love within myself, the best way to do so is through acts of love toward others. I’m assuming that includes both caring actions and things like our kiss.”

Emma’s smile gentled. “That sounds like Hayden. But you should know that’s not a guarantee that the person will ever love you in return.”

“I’d still like to feel it again,” Lachlan said.

“What exactly?”

“All of it.”