by Erin Johnson
Iggy looked at me. “Do I have to?”
I shrugged.
“Ugh.” He rolled his eyes and slunk into the oven. “I’m gonna burn it!”
“Burn it, and I’ll burn you,” Maple said in her high, sing-song voice.
Hank and I exchanged wide-eyed looks. “She’s scary when she’s like this.”
Maple snapped the lantern closed and set it on the butcher block counter. She addressed Iggy. “Get nice and hot, okay? First pan’s coming in soon!”
Iggy grunted.
“For real.” I strolled into the bright space. We’d knocked down several walls so that the kitchen took up about half of the ground floor. We were a house full of bakers, after all.
With the bright white cabinets and farmhouse sink, the kitchen shone. Sam and Jun had hand-painted the lovely tile backsplash, and Horace had gifted us hand-blown clear glass light fixtures that dangled above the counters in the shapes of jellyfish—a little reminder of Bijou Mer.
Their glass tentacles drifted gently and occasionally clinked together, a sound like chimes.
I dipped my finger in the bowl of batter and sucked on it. “Mmm.” I closed my eyes for a moment, savoring the flavor. My eyes popped open. “Poppy seed?”
Grinning, Maple snatched the bowl away from me. “Yes. But you’ll have to wait to eat it.”
I pouted. “But it’s my favorite.”
“I know.” She beamed, her cheeks flushed. “Which is why, when I remembered that in the middle of the night, I had to come right down here and toss out those boring old white cakes we’d baked and start all over.”
I frowned and peeked around her. Wiley sat at the long farmhouse table, his head buried in his arms. He groaned.
I lifted a brow at Maple. “Let me guess—you had some help in the middle of the night?”
She giggled at Wiley. “Oh, don’t be such a baby. It’s Imogen’s wedding—everything has to be perfect, and we need all hands on deck.”
Wiley groaned and lifted his red face, his eyes puffy and bloodshot. “Yes, boss.” He gave a weak salute.
I chuckled and gestured to Hank. “We can help.”
Annie scoffed. “The bride and groom? Help with their own wedding cake? Scoot, you two, out!” She chased us out of the kitchen with the baking sheet she’d been using to cool off a cake. “Shoo!”
“Eek!” Hank and I dashed out. “Wait.” I backtracked and stuck my head through the doorway. “Yann—do you think Sara will be able to make it?”
His cheeks turned bright pink. “Yah, I sure hope so.” He let out a wistful sigh. “I have not seen her beautiful face in too long.” He rolled a sheet of white fondant out. “We sent da messenger two days ago.”
Annie nodded. “She should have gotten the invite yesterday at the latest. Plenty of time to get here by this evening, if she’s able to get away.”
Yann sighed again, his eyes far away.
I waggled my brows at the older lady. “How about you, Annie? Bringing a date?”
Her cheeks flushed and she stared resolutely down at the cake she was cooling off.
61
Love
“A date?” Hank looked from me to Annie.
She waved a hand, brushing it off. “Me? A date? Psh. Who would I even bring?”
Hank chuckled. “I can think of someone.”
She snapped her head up, her brows pinched together. “You’re talking nonsense, dear.”
I grinned. Seemed we’d struck a nerve. “Oh come on. You and that police chief are clearly into each other.”
Her cheeks turned crimson and she stared down at the cake again, fanning it faster with the baking sheet. “No. He isn’t…. I’m not….” She sighed, and her shoulders slumped. “I’m too old for love. Weddings and googly eyes—it’s for you young folk.”
Maple stopped her stirring, and I cocked my head to the side.
Even Wiley, still slumped over the table, lifted his head.
Hank squared his shoulders. “That’s not true.”
Annie frowned at him. “What do you know about being old?”
“Nothing.” Hank glanced down at me and his face softened. “But I know how it feels to think you’ll never find love…, and then to be afraid you’ll lose it, once you do.” His eyes grew glassy and he cleared his throat, turning back to Annie. “But I’ve learned that love is strong and resilient—and certainly has no age limits.”
I nudged his shoulder, beaming. “Aw, look at you, getting all mushy.”
He lifted his brow. “It’s our wedding day. I’m allowed to be mushy.”
I chuckled. “You can be mushy anytime you want.”
“Ugh.” Iggy groaned from the oven in the wall. “If you keep this up, I’m going to vomit mushy all over this oven.”
Hank sighed. “What I’m trying to say is, it’s we who get afraid and put limits on ourselves—not love. You just have to open up to it—which is admittedly not easy.”
Annie said nothing, but continued to stare down at the cake.
Hank crossed his arms and leaned against the doorframe beside me. “What? Are you a jellyfish?”
Annie glowered at him. “A jellyfish? Young man, I broke into the highest security prison in the kingdoms and single-handedly talked the warden out of arresting us!” She puffed up her chest.
I grinned at Hank and played along. “Oh. So maybe that’s it. She’s just afraid of the police, because of her past run-ins with the law.”
Annie scoffed and planted a hand on her ample hip. “I’m not afraid of anyone, police or not.”
“So you’ll ask him?” Maple piped up. She grinned at me. “Imogen said he’s really nice… and cute.”
Annie gave a little smile. “He is handsome.” She lifted her chin. “Fine.” She reached behind her and untied her apron, then threw it on the counter. “I’ll do it.” She marched past Hank and me, and the front door swung shut behind her a moment later.
“Wow. Good pep talk.” I nudged Hank’s shoulder.
Maple rose on her tiptoes to see over Sam’s head to Wiley. “We’re a baker down, Wi. Up and at ’em.”
With a groan, Wiley shoved away from the table and dragged himself to his feet.
“Oh! One last thing—Sam. Kenta’s coming, right?”
The shifter looked up from the frosting flowers and smiled, his chin disappearing into his neck. “Yesss.”
“Good.”
All was right with the world. “We’ll leave you to it.”
Hand in hand, we headed back to the front stairs and then just past them. We’d taken the master suite on the ground floor—the only bedroom downstairs after we’d knocked down so many walls to expand the kitchen. “Well, we’ve got a few hours to kill, and nobody will let us help with anything.” I shrugged. “What do you want to do until then?”
Hank followed me into our room, then closed and locked the door behind us. It was a large space, and the tall ceiling only made it seem bigger.
Hank had refurbished a couple of wingback leather chairs we’d found in the basement and set them up in the corner beside a lamp, the side table already stacked with books. He always read a few at a time.
Our room included one of the two fireplaces—where Iggy could sleep at night, if he didn’t want to spend the night in the oven. The bathroom behind the fireplace was bigger than my old apartment back in Seattle, with a clawfoot tub and beautiful framed mirrors that hung on the wall above the deep sinks.
Across the room, a window seat looked out onto the expansive backyard and the cemetery behind it. The grass had grown in lush and green. Through the window, I spotted the arch Yann had built us for the wedding, covered in blooming roses and climbing jasmine. A path of stones led up to it, and mismatched chairs sat on the lawn, lining the aisle. We’d be saying our vows under that arch in just a few hours. We’d stuck mostly with human wedding traditions, since Hank and all my friends agreed that Bijou Mer’s were much more elaborate. I wanted our wedding to be easy and fun and full of lo
ve.
Hank walked across the lush rug and slid his arms around my waist. I smiled up at him, but grew serious at the intense look he gave me. “I can think of a few ways I’d like to pass some time with you.”
A happy shiver ran up my spine. “Oh yeah?” I bit my lip, then winced. “Is this going to be weird… with all of us living together… and thin walls?”
Hank dipped his head and spoke with his lips against my ear. “Sound muffling spell, remember?” He bit my ear gently and my knees nearly gave out. Thank the sands he had his arms around me.
I thought back to the first time he’d cast that spell, back at Lois’s inn on the mainland across the way from Bijou Mer. The first night we’d spent together.
I led him to the bed, golden magic already spiraling between us—the pull of two swallows. We’d learned to keep it under control in public, but when it was just the two of us, we let the magic flow. I stopped at the big four-poster with its gauzy white drapes and turned to face him, grinning. “Magic comes in handy sometimes.”
His voice grew husky. “Agreed.” Hank’s eyes focused on my lips as he took my face in his hands and dipped to kiss me.
62
Something Blue
I stood at the Dutch door that led from the kitchen to the back porch. The heady scent of orange blossoms and jasmine floated in through the open top half, mingling with the delicious smells of the kitchen where my friends had been baking our wedding cake all day.
Maple, tears in her eyes, reached up and tucked a stray strand of hair behind my ear. I’d stuck with my usual bun and bangs, though I’d gone a little grander with my winged eyeliner and makeup. Misaki squeezed my shoulder and grinned.
“I’m glad it fit.”
I looked down at the dress she’d lent me. “Thanks to your grandma. She did a great job.”
Jiji had managed to alter the simple silk gown so it now fit me like a glove. Misaki stood quite a few inches shorter than me, and was smaller around, too. Jiji had added a lace panel in the back and removed the sleeves.
She had planned to lengthen it, but I told her to leave it tea length—it suited me. I grinned and spun right, then left, the full A-line skirt swirling around me. “I love it. And thank goodness for magic, or I’d be getting married in a black dress.”
Jiji had also used magic to dye the dress white.
Iggy, who hung from his lantern in Maple’s hand (her bouquet in the other) smirked at me. “Sure you should be wearing white?”
I gave him a flat look.
Francis had dragged the old baby grand that had been left behind with the house out onto the lawn. It now began to magically play the wedding march. Nerves jolted through my chest.
Misaki winked. “Better take my seat.” She ducked out the door, leaving it open behind her, and plopped down in the kitchen chair next to Jun.
Sam and Kenta sat side by side across the aisle from them. I clutched my bouquet of heavenly smelling white blooms to my chest and peeked outside.
Hank stood under the flower-covered arch, looking handsome in a suit borrowed from Jun. Jiji had done her best to shorten the sleeves and take out the jacket to make room for Hank’s broad shoulders. Tears welled in my eyes as I gazed out at him. “I’m the luckiest girl in the world.”
Maple pressed her lips together in a tight smile and nodded, a tear trickling down her cheek. “I’m so happy for you.” Her words came out choked.
I sniffled and tried to blink back my tears. “Oh. Don’t get me going. We’ll ruin our makeup.”
Maple let out a little chuckle.
I pulled her into a hug, squeezing tight, then ducked down to blow a kiss at Iggy. “Thanks for being my maid and flame of honor.”
“Can’t believe you made us share the title.” Iggy crossed his arms, but I ignored him.
The baby grand outside continued playing the wedding march. It struck an off note, then another.
Maple winced. “I wish we’d thought to get it tuned ahead of time.”
I chuckled. “I kind of like it. Gives the whole shindig some personality.”
Iggy shook his head. “Oh, it’s got plenty of that.”
He was right. From the mismatched chairs to the off-key piano to the guests themselves—shifter, vampires, seers, monsters, and witches and wizards, we had personality to spare.
My throat bobbed as I gazed out at my friends, seated on the lawn. The sun was just dipping below the horizon, and fireflies drifted about in the trees that lined the property. I let out a shaky breath. “I think it’s time.”
Maple beamed at me. “Are you ready?”
I squared my shoulders and turned toward the door. “I’ve never been more ready for anything.” My face hurt from smiling so big.
I followed her and Iggy across the porch, then down the steps to the lawn. I’d nearly reached the stone path, sprinkled with orange blossom petals, when a loud “Caw!” startled me into looking up.
A black raven circled overhead, gradually gliding lower and lower. It landed on the roof behind me with its mangled tail feather.
“Oh.” Iggy sniffed. “Did he come to bring you a wedding gift? Maybe a toe this time?”
I grinned. “Hi, bird.”
My buddy held something in his beak. Ugh. I hoped Iggy was wrong. Better not be another body part.
He launched from the roof and dropped it before flying off. I squinted as the object drifted lower. I reached my free hand up and caught it, then turned it over in my palm.
Maple backtracked to get a look. “What is it?”
I grinned at the yarn in my hand. The blue yarn. “It’s my something blue.”
“Okay…, the wedding’s gotten to her brain.” Iggy and Maple exchanged glances.
I rolled my eyes. “It’s a human wedding tradition.” I quickly wrapped the yarn around the bouquet. I thought over the little rhyme in my head as I followed on behind Maple and Iggy.
I had my something borrowed—the dress—and the something blue. But old and new? We reached the aisle and I grinned at the little group of gathered friends. New friends and old—that counted.
Maple and Iggy led the way for me down the aisle, and I followed. My legs felt like jelly and nerves churned in my stomach. I felt a bizarre mix of extremely nervous and at the same time, more confident than I’d ever felt in my life. I froze when Hank looked up and his eyes met mine. It felt as though my heart stopped. He smiled, his eyes bright with tears.
63
Wedding Crashers
I continued on, my eyes glued to Hank. I passed Misaki, Ben, and Jun, then Kenta and Sam. Next came Jiji and Fumi, and Sara, Yann, and Annie. I gave Sara a wave, happy for Yann that she could join us, and winked at Annie when I spotted Chief Abe, looking smart in his uniform, beside her.
My brother sat alone in the front row on the left side, an empty chair beside him. Maybe I was just in a sentimental mood, but I decided that chair represented Amelia and K’ree and Shaday—and all the friends I’d have loved to have been here. And the family too… the mother and father I’d never know.
Horace held up a hand as I passed, and I took it and squeezed. “I’m so happy you made it,” I whispered.
He gave me a flat look with his hooded eyes. “Miss my little sister’s wedding to the golden prince?” He lifted a brow. “Never.”
I rolled my eyes. “Be nice.”
His throat bobbed. “You look beautiful, Imogen.”
I smiled, tears welling in my eyes. “You going soft on me?” I gave his hand another squeeze and moved on.
Rhonda stood under the trellis and I chuckled at her choice of attire. She’d also decided to wear white today—a pantsuit studded in rhinestones. Maple and Iggy moved to the left, while Hank beamed at me from the right, with his groomsmen, Wiley and Francis, standing beside him. Cat, in all his black leathery weirdness, perched atop Wiley’s shoulder wearing a bow tie. I leaned over to whisper to Maple, “Nice touch with the tie.”
She nodded, grinning. “He looks so handso
me. Oh. And all the men do, too.”
I turned to face Hank, my throat tight with emotion. He lifted trembling hands, and I placed mine in his. He squeezed, and I squeezed back.
“I love you,” he murmured.
I opened my mouth, but Rhonda cut me off, lifting both her arms overhead. “Living and dead, earth and animal, dearly beloved, and those we only feel ‘eh’ about—we are gathered here on this lawn to celebrate the love and marriage of Prince Harry of Bijou Mer and Imogen Banks.”
I bit my lip to stifle a grin. Hank looked amused as well. I turned to Rhonda. “You said you’ve done this before? Is this the speech you usually give?”
She sniffed and lifted her chin. “Of course I’ve officiated before, for the Duke and Duchess of Gildenthorpe”—She lowered her voice so that I had to strain to hear over the piano music—“’s dogs.”
I shot her a flat look. “You officiated a pet wedding?”
“Do you want me to go on or…?”
Hank pinched the brow of his nose, and I rolled my eyes. “Go on, then.”
Hank took my hand again and we stared into each other’s eyes. Hank’s twinkled with amusement… and tears.
“These are two of my favorite people in the world,” Rhonda said. “And they belong together.” She smiled. “And that is both my friendly and professional opinion.” She touched the spot on her forehead that glowed when she received a vision. “And I’d just like to take this moment to say, I told you so.” She pointed a glittery gold nail at Hank. “Remember? I said, you are not going to marry a princess, and Imogen is about as far from a princess as you can get.”
She chuckled, and I flashed my eyes at her. “Is this a roast or my wedding?”
She cleared her throat and grew sober. “Right. Sorry.” The seer continued. “Imogen and Hank are remarkable people, who’ve had a remarkable love story. When I first…”