shoes. Hurt and jealousy lanced April inside, a new sensation. Sure, she’d known sadness and disappointment, but not this searing stab in the gut as she’d witnessed Chulah’s proposal. Her eyes watered.
“Are you crying?” Chulah asked, surprise written on his face. “Ah, damn...don’t do that.”
She stiffened. “I am not crying,” she said with all the dignity she could muster. “If I were, there would be tears running down my face. Which they are not.” It didn’t count if they were contained behind eyelids; she was pretty sure on that score.
“What the hell,” he muttered. “Let’s have a drink.”
“Really?” She brightened. “You won’t regret it. It’ll be fun.”
“Whatever.” He strapped his helmet on the handlebars and motioned for her to hand her own over. She did, and he tossed it in the side bag and buckled it up.
April opened her purse, searching for the store key. In the back room was a staircase leading to her upstairs apartment.
The Pixie Land door swung open and a short man with a red beard beamed at them. “Hey, boss, I’ve ’bout got all the inventory unpacked and ready to open for business in the morn.”
Steven, a fellow fairy helping in the mission, had caught her by surprise. She’d thought he’d have returned to the Fae realm by now. “Th-that’s great,” she said. “We’re going upstairs—”
“No, we’re going to a bar,” Chulah interrupted. He walked over to Steven and extended a hand. “Chulah Rivers.”
“Steven Andrews,” he smoothly replied, shaking hands. “Pleasure to meet ya.”
Chulah nodded and gestured down the street. “The bar’s only a block from here. We can walk.”
“Sure.”
“Excuse us a moment, will ya?” Steven said to Chulah. “Just need to check with the boss on a small matter.”
“Take your time.”
Chulah was better mannered around strangers than he was with her, April noted.
Steven pulled her into the shop doorway. “You might be needing this.” He pressed a roll of bills into her palm. “A little mad money in case your fellow doesn’t pay or you get stranded.”
“Good idea.” She stuffed the money in her purse. “See you later.”
Steven gave a broad wink. “Watched you out there. Excellent job using your feminine wiles on the man. None of us like to see a woman cry.”
“I wasn’t using my wiles,” she sputtered, glancing back at Chulah, who was busy studying the fairy figurines in the shop window.
He gave a maddening little chuckle. “Sure you weren’t.”
“Oh, for the queen’s sake—I’ll be back in a bit.”
“Take your time. Wrap him around your little finger.” The smile left his face. “Don’t be like your mother. Your loyalty is to our world. Not theirs.”
April shut the door in his blathering face, afraid Chulah might overhear and angry at the slur to her mother. She took a deep breath to steady her emotions. “I’m ready.” She smiled. “What’s the name of this place?”
“Bayou Brandy & Spirits. A friend of mine owns it.”
They fell into step, April bubbling with excitement. This officially counted as a date in her book. She’d been courted a few times by her own kind, but they acted as if they were doing her a great favor since her mother was so reviled. Besides, the attentions of the notoriously fickle male of her species held no real charm. In that respect, she was just like her mother. She wanted a forever kind of man.
A man like Chulah.
All she had to do was win his trust, persuade him to help their mutual cause, work with him to defeat Hoklonote, restore her family’s name, convince the queen and Council to let her remain in Bayou La Siryna—plus, win his undying love. All while protecting her secret offense against him years ago.
April wasn’t daunted a bit.
Even in the early whisper of evening, stepping into the bar was stepping into night and mystery and a winding-down from the day’s work and worries. A dark, velvet smokiness settled on Chulah like a balm.
All heads, mostly male, turned their way. And stayed turned. April’s unusual hair color practically glowed like quicksilver in the dim lighting.
They slipped into a booth and Chulah signaled Karlee over. She approached, eyeing April with a jaded once-over stare.
“Hey, sweetie. That’s some kind of dye job ya got there.” She lifted a thick strand of April’s hair and leaned in, squinting. “Blond and silver and lavender. Who’d have guessed that combo worked?” She smiled, not unkindly. “I like it.”
“Thanks.”
Women and their hair. Chulah stifled a sigh. “I’ll have a whiskey double. Neat.”
Karlee whistled. “Tough day, huh?”
He recalled the pity in Tallulah’s eyes as she said he was like a brother. “You could say that.”
“What about you, sweetie?” Karlee asked, turning to April.
“Water?” she said, uncertainly.
Karlee frowned. “That’s it? Just plain ole water?”
“What flavors do you have? I prefer floral nectar, but I like orange water, too.”
Karlee exchanged a what’s-her-deal look with him. Chulah shrugged. “Maybe she means orange juice?”
“Yes, that’s it,” April said in a rush, pink flushing her cheeks. “Orange juice.”
“How about I spike it with brandy?”
April drummed her fingers on the worn tabletop. “I guess. Sure.”
Interesting. She wasn’t afraid of roaming the woods alone, yet ordering a drink appeared to make her nervous. He needed to know more about this unusual woman. “Where are you from?” he asked. “You’re new here or we’d have crossed paths before now.”
“I used to live in Tillman’s Corner, about thirty miles east of here.”
“I know where it is. I have a cousin who grew up there. You know Drew Lattimore?”
She tilted her head to the side and pursed her lips, thinking. “No. The name isn’t familiar.”
Chulah studied her, a niggling unease prickling his skin. Something about her seemed familiar, but surely he’d remember such
