Page 12 of The Magical Tea Shop

That last was Jaxon’s deep voice, the one that rumbled inside her.

“Not enough. I could’ve eaten a lot more.”

That was Joel’s tenor. Ivy had a moment of panic. Joel ate a cookie, a magic cookie? Wait, he’d said cookies. Just how many of Jaxon’s cookies did Joel eat?

She was about to swing back to find out when Holly grabbed her arm. “Let’s go. It’s starting to sprinkle.” Ivy hesitated. “Unless you want to walk. Remember, you’re riding with me.”

With one long glance back at Joel and Jaxon, now disappearing from sight into the dugout, she took a deep breath and let her sister pull her away.

*

Back at thedugout, Roman swung up onto his crutches from where he’d been sitting out the game and handed Jaxon the black and gold tin.

“Thanks.” He frowned and weighed it in his hand. It was noticeably lighter than when Joel had snatched it off him. “Wait, did Joel leave any for anyone else? Don’t tell me he ate them all.”

“Nah, we all got at least one. Great treats, by the way. You should bring them to every game.”

Jaxon worked the tin open. He couldn’t believe it. It was empty and wiped clean, not a single crumb remained. “Seriously, you doofuses ate them all? Ivy gave them to me.”

“And you gave them to us. What did you think would happen?”

“But I didn’t get any.” He heard the whine in his voice. Feeling cheated, but knowing it was his own fault, he frowned. Disgruntled, he sighed and bailed on his losing team. He wasn’t up to rehashing their latest defeat to the Roadies over beer and pretzels at Toby and Mac’s. He had played better than ever before, but they’d still lost. At least no one could blame it on his dog this time.

He headed home to his quiet apartment. Montgomery, at least, was glad to see him. Surrounded by half-packed cardboard boxes in preparation for his move, Jaxon took his laptop to the sofa. With his dog curled beside him, he went to work on the new lease agreement for the Ivy Way Tea Shop.

Chapter Five

Ivy added atinkling silver bell to her glass door. Determined to compete with her sister, Ivy felt hers was cuter and sounded sweeter, swinging on a velvet green ribbon that matched the one on the cookie press. She’d already decided it would chime more often than her sister’s, especially around midday when the bakery business was dropping off. For the first time, she would win their bet. Savory lunch items would do the trick. She’d make sure of it. Staying up late, she’d gone through her recipes and settled on tomato basil soup with little panini sandwiches of Gouda and Gruyère.

After being up half the night, she’d woken early to write her new specials in script on her whiteboard. She’d spent an hour decorating it with flowers and scrollwork. She frowned at it. The flowers resembled oleanders.

She hated oleanders. Oleanders were deadly. Sure, they were the family flowers with a long history here in Hazard, but they didn’t belong in a tea shop. Tea made from oleanders would kill you. She could redraw the flowers, but who would know? The food was all prepped. Her pretty flowered teapots in all the colors of the rainbow were lined up and waiting. In addition, she had her own fresh blueberry scones today, along with Holly’s chocolate croissants.

What could go wrong?

Ivy hid a yawn behind her hand as she turned her window sign from Shut to Welcome. Quiche du jour would have to wait until tomorrow. This prepping before daylight was grueling. No sooner had Ivy turned her sign than the little bell was making its happy, tinkling welcome.

“Oh!” She headed back to hold the door for Roman, who struggled with his crutches. She waited until he was clear and led him over to a table, surprised to see him in her shop. Roman was a frequent visitor at Hollister’s Bakery next door. He looked incongruous seating himself at her pedestal table covered in flouncy white lace.

“What can I get you today?”

He gave her a great big grin. “I trust you. Just bring me something wonderful.” He leaned in and drew in a big sniff of air. At least she hoped it was the air and not her hair. Hehadleaned in rather close.

“It smells great in here.”

“I have some of the pastries from next door. Was the line too long over there for you to manage with your crutches?”

“Oh, I don’t need Holly’s pastries. Not today. I want somethingyoubaked. Do you have any cookies?” He gazed at her, eyes hopeful and adoring.

Weird.

“So, cookies for breakfast?” She stifled a shrug. “No problem. I’ll just bring out a selection, and you can choose.”

Ivy had just set about arranging a plate of madeleines, petits beurre, and her personal favorite, ginger crinkles, for Roman when the chime tinkled again.

And again.

And again.

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