Page 45 of Hand-Fasting and Other Hazards
At the sound of Becket’s voice, Ivy’s head popped up, her wide eyes blinking at the stranger.
“What are you doing here?” Nia crossed her arms tightly over her chest. Her suspicions had her skipping introductions.
She hadn’t seen Becket since the lawyer’s networking event—since that moment in the hallway. She could still feel the warmth of Lochlan’s arms, the soft rasp of his breath against her neck, and the hollow ache as they’d pulled apart when Becket appeared.
He stood before them, grinning, like he’d orchestrated this moment, too.
“I was grabbing a drink before heading to the autumn festival,” Becket said casually.
Nia’s gaze flicked to Lochlan, then back to Becket, her eyes narrowing. “Alone?”
Becket sighed dramatically, pressing a hand to his chest. “I can’t help it if a certain gorgeous redhead has monopolized all the time of my one and only friend.”
Nia raised an eyebrow, unimpressed.
“It’s fine,” Becket continued with a shrug, clearly undeterred. “I figured the autumn festival would be fun, even if I’m going solo—maybe it’ll distract me from my loneliness.”
“Oh no,” Ivy piped up, her breathy tone edged with concern. “You can’t go alone. That’s not how it’s done.”
Their eyes met and Becket extended his hand.
“I’m Lochlan’s best friend, Becket.” He took Ivy’s hand gently and brought her knuckles to his lips, brushing them lightly. “Though, sadly, he hasn’t named me after a flower yet.”
Ivy tilted her head, studying him with quiet but intent curiosity. Lochlan rolled his eyes. “Becket, this is Ivy,” he said, his tone long-suffering, “Nia’s best friend and business partner.”
Becket’s gaze remained locked on Ivy as his smile turned softer, more sincere. “Ivy suits you perfectly.”
Nia watched the prettiest pink spread across her cheeks.
“It looks like you three are all finished with dinner,” Becket continued, leaning back with an easy air. “Maybe you could join me?”
Ivy hesitated, her eyes flitting to the bathroom door.
Lochlan and Nia spoke at once.
“I’ll take care of the checks,” he said, rising.
“I’ll go take care of…” Nia’s voice trailed off as she glared at the bathrooms.
“Why don’t you three head out front?” Lochlan suggested, following her gaze. “I’ll handle things here.”
Nia hesitated, her instincts telling her to stay and see things through herself. But Lochlan was calm and exuded quiet confidence, and she did want to keep an eye on Ivy.
She exhaled softly and turned, allowing Becket to guide her and Ivy outside.
The autumn festival spilled onto the streets, its decorations extending beyond the square. Twinkling lanterns hung from the lamp posts, their golden glow casting warm pools of light on the cobblestones. Bundles of dried wheat and pumpkins lined the storefronts and the crisp night air carried the scents of cinnamon and cider.
Still, despite the festive atmosphere, the unpleasant tension from dinner clung stubbornly to Nia. Becket filled the silence with easy small talk, his tone light and teasing, but she didn’t hear a word. Her thoughts were back in the restaurant. She was the one who always handled things—cleaned up the messes, dealt with the bad guys.
Why was it so hard to let someone else take responsibility?
Arms crossed tightly over her chest, she muttered something vague to Becket, ignored a questioning glance from Ivy, and turned back to the restaurant. The dining room was nearly empty now, and their table abandoned. Nia’s eyes scanned the space until they landed on the hallway where the bathrooms were. With quick steps she headed toward it, but slowed as she realized the air felt odd, different: heavy with a kind of magic that had nothing to do with the glow of romantic warmth.
She rounded the corner and froze.
Daniel stood against the wall, all smugness gone and replaced by an unease that bordered on panic. An angry rash spread across his skin in vivid streaks as ropes of ivy and shadows curled around his arms and chest. The tendrils pulsed faintly, alive with magic, their movements glamoured so he wouldn’t notice.
Lochlan stood before him.
