Mysteria Nights

set and then slid on the breezy, buttercup-colored skirt and the creamy, V-neck pullover that made her look and feel like a fresh spring wildflower, basking in the sunlight, just waiting to be plucked by a tall, dark—

“No!” she told herself, and marched into the kitchen. Summer was stirring the pot of sauce when the jaunty shave and a haircut, two bits knock sounded against her front door. She patted her hair and hurried through the living room.

“Hey, Sum! I couldn’t figure out what kind of wine to get, so I got, like, three colors. I figured the more the merrier.” Ken grinned boyishly and presented the bag that, sure enough, held a bottle of cheap Cabernet, cheap Chardonnay, and cheap white Zinfandel.

Summer returned his smile and motioned for him to come in, squelching her disappointment that there wasn’t a bottle of nice Chianti in the mix. It wasn’t like Ken could have known they were having spaghetti and that she preferred Italian wine with it. She’d just let him know next time. “How about we open the red? It’ll go great with the spaghetti,” she said.

“You made spaghetti?” He took off his jacket and dropped it over the back of the couch before she could ask him for it.

“Yeah, I hope you like it.”

“Spaghetti’s awesome! Hope it’s almost ready. I’m starving.”

She opened her mouth to tell him all she’d have to do is to boil the pasta, but he didn’t give her a chance to speak.

“Hey, want me to come to the kitchen with you and open the wine? A drink would be awesome.”

“Sure, come on back,” she said and then led him to the back of the cabin and her sister’s spacious kitchen.

“Wow, this is a great kitchen,” Ken said appreciatively.

“Yeah, Candice loves her gourmet cooking.” She sent Ken a shy look as she handed him the corkscrew. “Hope you’re not disappointed that she got most of the cooking genes in our family.”

“Nah, as long as it’s hot and full of meat, I’m cool with it.”

“Uh, Ken, didn’t you remember that I’m a vegetarian?”

He looked up from opening the wine. “Huh? A what?” Then he glanced at the simmering pot on the stove. “Oh, you’re worried I won’t like your spaghetti.” Grinning, he grabbed the big stirring spoon and ladled himself a generous taste test. “Yum! You don’t have anything to be nervous about. This sauce is awesome!” he said through a full mouth.

“Oh, uh, good.” Summer stirred the bubbling pasta. What he doesn’t know won’t kill him, she decided. Or at least she didn’t think fairies were allergic to tofu.

While Summer put the finishing touches on their meal, Ken sat on her sister’s pristine butcher block island, drank wine, and talked. And talked. And talked.

“Hey, Sum, so you actually made it through college.”

“Yeah. It’s funny—I didn’t think I’d like the academic part of it, but once I got into my lit major I—”

“Man, I don’t know how you stayed away from Mysteria for four whole years. No way would I want to do that. The mundane world is no place for fairies.”

“Well, I did miss Mysteria, and, well, lots of the people here.” She smiled and felt her cheeks get warm when she added, “Especially certain fairies. That’s one of the reasons I came back.”

“Of course you missed fairies. The world just isn’t the same without them!” He jumped off the counter and bowed to her with a big flourish before pouring himself more wine.

He looked so boyish and carefree that she had to smile at him. “Then I should feed you so we can be sure you don’t expire. I know how much fairies love food.”

“That we do!” He hurried into the dining room where she had two places already set with intimate candles and her sister’s beautiful china, leaving her to carry in the spaghetti and the sauce. He had thought to bring the bottle of wine with him, though.

So they ate, and Ken talked. And talked. And talked.

At first Summer just listened to him, commenting now and then (although his exuberant “conversation” really didn’t require much participation on her part), and thinking about how cute he looked in the candlelight. His blond hair was thick and a little shaggy, but it looked good on him, and it glistened with a sparkle of fairy magic when the candlelight caught it just right. His blue eyes were big and expressive, his face completely animated. He really was a cute guy. And the direct opposite of dark and broody and intense and sexy . . .

No! Ken was sexy. She’d always thought he was sexy. After all, she’d had a major crush on him since they were teenagers. And she also—

“Sum, did you hear me? I said that you’ve really grown all up. It’s kind of a surprise. Not that you don’t look awesome,” he hurried to add. “But it’s a grown-up awesome. You’ve changed.”

“Oh, uh, thanks. I think.” Summer took a sip of wine. “You haven’t changed at all,” she said.

“Thanks, Sum! You know how fairies are—young for years. Good thing, too, ’cause the party planning and supply business isn’t for the old and serious.”

“So you’re going into your family’s business?”

“Of course! I love parties, and I especially love fireworks.” He sat up straighter, clearly proud of himself. “You’ve been gone, so you probably don’t know this, but I’ve been put in charge of the pyrotechnics for Fairies 4 Fantastic Festivals, Inc.”

“That’s great, Ken. I’m really proud of you. Your dad must be—”

“Yeah, it’s awesome! Just wait till you see what we’re planning for Beltane this year. It’s gonna be super cool with . . .”

Summer smiled and nodded while Ken talked. And talked. And talked. She also studied him. She hadn’t been exaggerating. He really hadn’t changed in the four years she’d been gone. He was wearing a T-shirt that said this way to the gun show with arrows pointing to his biceps. Summer had to stifle a giggle. His biceps were like the rest of his body, young and cute and lean. They were definitely not “guns,” loaded or otherwise. And she definitely wasn’t comparing them to Colin’s muscular arms.

She mentally shook herself while Ken paused in his monologue to jog into the kitchen to snag the bottle of Chardonnay. He came back in the room, still talking about the plans for the “awesome” fireworks show that would be the climactic event of Mysteria’s Beltane festival. She saw that his faded, baggy jeans were fashionably shredded over both knees, and he was wearing bright blue Skechers.

Nope, he definitely hadn’t changed since high school.

It was about then that Summer began to wonder if dinner would ever end.

“Dang, Sum, sorry about your headache,” Ken said as she handed him his jacket and walked him to the door.

“I guess I’m just tired from teaching all day.”

He stopped at the door she’d opened and turned to face her. “It was great to see you again. I’m really glad you’re back, Sum.” Ken rested an arm over her shoulder nonchalantly as he slouched in the doorway. His blue eyes sparkled with another smile. “Dinner was totally—”

“Awesome?” She provided the word when he hesitated.

“Yeah, it really was. And you’re awesome, too.” Slowly, Ken bent to her. His kiss was sweet and questioning and very, very gentle. In other words, it was everything Summer believed she’d wanted in a kiss from the man she’d been fantasizing about for years.

She didn’t feel a thing in response.

Give him a chance, she chided herself. This is what you decided you want. He fits in the plan. Summer leaned into Ken and put her arms around his neck, returning his questioning kiss with an exclamation mark.

She felt the surprise in his body, and then he parted his lips and followed her lead, kissing her deeper, longer. Summer thought he tasted, weirdly, like wine and lemonade. She wondered vaguely why he always reminded her of lemons—not the tart kind, but the supersweet Country Time Lemonade lemons, with lots of sugar. Lots.

Ken was still kissing her, softly and sweetly, while Summer’s mind wandered. She was thinking about what she was supposed to teach her sophomores the next day as she absently looked over his shoulder at the dark edge