Page 15 of Chasing Stripes

“I’ll adjust the recipe,” she promised.

He studied her face for a moment longer as if memorizing her features, then turned to leave. At the door, he paused, glancing back over his shoulder. “The glow,” he said, nodding toward her waist. “It’ll fade, but not completely.”

Before she could ask what he meant, he slipped out the back door, leaving only the soft click of the latch behind him.

The moment he left, the overhead lights stabilized, returning to their normal brightness. The air in the kitchen seemed to lighten, though Artemis’s skin still tingled where he’d touched her.

“Sweet merciful moonbeams,” Tilly breathed, clutching the counter for support. “That was the most intense thing I’ve witnessed since your parents’ binding ceremony, and they set half the forest blooming in the middle of winter.”

THIRTEEN

Artemis swallowed hard, attempting to regain her composure. “It was nothing. Just residual magic from the baking mishap.”

“Honey,” Tilly fixed her with a knowing look, “I’ve been half-fae for over sixty years. I know magical residue when I see it, and I know something else entirely when I see it. That man left a magical imprint on you.” She pointed to Artemis’s waist where the golden handprints still glowed faintly. “And you liked it.”

Heat crawled up Artemis’s neck. “I didn’t?—”

“Your pupils dilated, your breathing quickened, and the temperature in this room rose about ten degrees when he touched you,” Tilly continued mercilessly. “Plus, you’re still staring at the door he left through.”

Artemis snapped her gaze away from the back door, mortified to realize her aunt was right. “Okay, fine. He’s attractive. In an intimidating, alpha-tiger way. That doesn’t mean anything.”

“Mm-hmm.” Tilly’s expression radiated skepticism. “And I suppose the lights flickering and the magical handprints don’t mean anything either?” She began picking up scattered utensils, a mischievous smile playing at her lips. “You know, your mother’s cousin once dated a wolf shifter. Shocking the family seems to be a Blu tradition.”

“Can we please focus on cleaning up this mess?” Artemis begged, gesturing to the flour-coated kitchen. “We open in an hour, and I still need to make something to sell.”

“Fine, fine,” Tilly conceded. “But this conversation isn’t over. Not by a long shot.”

By mid-morning,Honeycrisp Bakery hummed with activity. Artemis had managed to salvage enough of her experimental batter to produce a small batch of joy-infused muffins, though she’d reduced the fae pollen to a mere dusting. The kitchen still bore evidence of the magical mishap—a fine coating of flour in hard-to-reach corners—but customers seemed not to notice.

Or perhaps they were too distracted by Meredith Oakhart’s sudden singing ability.

“Anothercupppppofcoffeeeeee,pleeeease,” Meredith trilled, her ordinary request transformed into an operatic aria. The elderly fox shifter looked as surprised as anyone by her melodious voice.

“So sorry about that, Mrs. Oakhart.” Artemis handed over a steaming mug. “Side effect of the new muffins. Should wear off in an hour or so.”

“Don’tapologiiiize,” Meredith sang back, beaming. “My husband always said I should have been asingerrrrr! He’ll bethriiiiilledwhen I gethooooome!”

She floated away to a corner table, humming contentedly. The other customers watched with undisguised amusement, several eyeing the remaining muffins with newfound interest.

The bell above the door chimed. Artemis looked up, her heart performing a ridiculous little skip before she could control it. But instead of Bartek’s imposing frame, Kalyna sauntered in, her fox-red hair gleaming in the sunlight. She wore a vintage-inspired emerald dress that emphasized her petite figure, looking every inch the dignified librarian, shop owner, and mayor’s mate.

Until she opened her mouth.

“Holy fox fire, what happened in here?” Kalyna exclaimed, sniffing the air dramatically. “It smells like magic had a fistfight with a flour sack!” Her eyes flashed amber with excitement.

“Volume, Kalyna,” Artemis hissed, glancing at the curious customers.

“Sorry,” Kalyna stage-whispered, sidling up to the counter. Her gaze darted around, taking in every detail with fox-like acuity. “Magical mishap? Or did you decide to redecorate with the fashionable ‘explosion chic’ look I’ve heard so much about?”

Artemis stifled a laugh despite herself. She’d missed Kalyna’s particular brand of snark during her years away. “Small accident with some experimental muffins. Nothing major.”

Kalyna leaned forward, inhaling deeply. Her eyes widened, then narrowed suspiciously. “You’re not telling me everything, Artemis Blu.” She lowered her voice to a genuine whisper. “Why do you smell like tiger? And not just any tiger—that’s definitely eau de Bartek Arbor clinging to you.”

Heat bloomed across Artemis’s cheeks. She busied herself making Kalyna’s usual tea—Earl Grey with honey. “No idea what you mean.”

“Please,” Kalyna scoffed. “My nose might not match a tiger’s, but I recognize cedar and alpha musk anywhere. Perks of being mated to the mayor—I meet all the important newcomers.” She leaned closer, voice dropping further. “Spill. Now. Or I’ll start asking very loud, very embarrassing questions in front of your entire customer base.”

Artemis sighed, knowing resistance was futile. Kalyna could out-stubborn a mountain when it came to gossip. “Fine. There was a... minor explosion with my experimental batter. He heard it somehow and came rushing in like the kitchen was on fire.”

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