Dinner would’ve been a quiet affair without the animated conversation of GiGi, Ryker, and Bridget to spice things up. They maintained an upbeat conversation without any acknowledgement of Piper’s continued silence.
Cian had chosen to cover his sister’s shift as he’d indicated earlier, to allow Bridget to catch up with her coven sister. And Piper found it a challenge to remain at the table when the main subject of her interest was likely next door, slinging drinks to lively pub patrons.
She could use the chaotic distraction of a bar, but if she went there, she’d probably moon over him all night. Self-torture wasn’t her gig, and she refused to fawn over a man who was only available for a one-night stand.
The main thing that played on her mind was the problem of Granny O’Malley’s elixir—or lack thereof. Bridget hadn’t brought it up to GiGi, and Piper suspected she wouldn’t for the sake of pride. The woman seemed steeped in it. In all honesty, Piper had been surprised Cian had confessed their issue earlier. However, they’d both been kind and she felt the need to help.
“Bridget, may I ask about Granny O’Malley’s special potion? Cian mentioned you’d used the last of it without any way to recreate it.”
Bridget’s lips compressed into a tight line, and from the fire in her eyes, she intended to bodily harm her brother for discussing their family business with a total stranger.
Compassion filled GiGi’s lovely face, and she touched Bridget’s hand. “What’s this about?”
“It’s true enough. Carrick’s wife used to conjure what we needed in the past. Since Roisin’s been gone, we’ve not had a way to create more. We used our last batch yesterday.”
“There’s no recipe to go by?” Piper asked. She had the fleeting thought that Spring might be able to provide any herbs for the recipe. With her working knowledge of plants, the woman was a miracle worker.
With a grimace, Bridget got to her feet and crossed to an old wooden built-in bookcase. There, she withdrew a leather-bound tome. A distinct thwack echoed in the dining room when she dropped it on the table.
“It’s located somewhere within these pages. Damned if I know where, because this bloody book is temperamental and refuses to give up its secrets.”
GiGi turned thoughtful. “How did Roisin recreate it before?”
“By doubling our existing supply.”
“May I?” Piper rose and skirted the table, stopping in front of the ancient grimoire. “Wow! This might be older than the Thorne’s.”
“After the first book was gifted by the gods and goddesses to the first witches, this was the next created.” Bridget ran a hand lovingly across the embossed Celtic design on the front cover. The tree of life was encircled by smaller, round Celtic knots. In the corners of the book were more Celtic designs, in the shape of triangles. All in all, a beautiful family legacy.
With reverence, Piper traced the design. Her fingers tingled when she came to the tree roots, and they all gasped when the tree lit up. The glow brightened the entire room before fading out.
“What in the world?” GiGi jumped up and repeated Piper’s actions, but without the same effect. “Has that ever happened before, Bridget?”
Wide-eyed, her friend shook her head. “Never.”
“Touch it again, child,” GiGi instructed Piper.
Following the same pattern as she did the first time; Piper outlined the design. The tree lit again, flaring brighter for longer. The grimoire’s magical light show held them all enthralled.
“What do you think it means?” Piper asked.
As she drew back, the cover flipped open and the pages fluttered back and forth as if a great wind rustled them. It stopped abruptly, about three quarters of the way toward the end of the book. She eased forward to read the page.
“Think this is your Granny O’Malley’s recipe?” she croaked out. She looked at Bridget, who had covered her mouth with her hands and stared at Piper through tear-bright eyes. “We can recreate it, Bridget. It’s all right here.”
With a squeal of pure joy, Bridget launched herself at Piper and hugged her tight. “You’ve no idea what this means to my family. No idea at all.”
“I’m glad to help. We’ll see what we need and gather the ingredients to get started in the morning. We’ll have a new batch for you to try in no time.”
“Thank you, girl. Your stay is free for as long as you care to remain.”
“Nonsense. This is your business, and my money spends as well as the next person’s.” Piper’s tone was firm. “But I won’t object to another of your wonderful dinners while I’m here. There’s nothing I can conjure that’s this tasty.”
Bridget hugged her again. “I’ll make anything your heart desires.”
Can you make Cian love me?
Uncomfortable with the unasked question, Piper glanced down at the recipe in the book. “Let us confer with Spring. There are a few ingredients I’m not familiar with, but it’s usually a simple matter to whip up.”
“I’ll dish up the apple cake while you consult with them.”
Ryker spoke for the first time since dinner. “With the vanilla custard sauce?” He sounded hopeful, and Piper was looking forward to another culinary delight.
Bridget’s grin was mysterious with a hint of naughty, as was the wink she gave him.
“That’s it, GiGi. I’m leaving you for Bridget,” he declared.
His wife sashayed to where he sat at the table, dropped into his lap, and pulled his head to hers for a kiss that would set fire to a lesser man’s britches. When they pulled apart, the raging desire in Ryker’s eyes was enough to scorch all those present. “Bridget who?” he asked in a low, husky voice.
“I’ve never been able to keep a man with her around,” Bridget said with a mock sigh.
Piper laughed as their hostess sailed from the room. “I adore her.”
“I think the feeling is mutual, child.”
She met GiGi’s kind, smiling eyes. “I wish all the O’Malleys felt the same.” When she realized what had slipped out, she clamped a hand over her mouth. “I… uh… that is… oh, hell!”
Their compassion made Piper itchy.
“Give him time, child. It’s my understanding he was ill used by a woman in the past. Men are a little thicker in the head than women are about these things.”
“Hey! Man right here,” Ryker protested.
“I know,” GiGi retorted with a sassy smile in his direction.
Piper laughed, as she was meant to.
“I suppose I should pop back to Leiper’s Fork and see what Spring might have by way of ingredients.” GiGi kissed her husband fully on the mouth. “Keep Piper out of trouble until I return, and save a piece of the apple cake for me. For later.” With a wink and a twinkling of lights, she was gone.
“That woman keeps me on my toes. She’s the moon to my stars.”
Ryker’s happiness made Piper envious. She wanted someone as devoted as he was to GiGi. At thirty-three, Piper felt maybe she’d missed the boat. Her Prince Charming was floating off into the sunset on someone else’s yacht.
“There is plenty to adore,” Piper agreed with a forced laugh.
“Want to talk about it?”
Mortification scorched her cheeks, and she felt exposed to a ginormous degree. “Am I that obvious?”
“No, Piper. I just know how charming Cian is and how susceptible women are to his brand of charm.”
“That’s what I was afraid of,” she said morosely. She plopped down across from him and rested her chin on her palms. “He’s freaking adorable and he knows it. How’s a woman to resist all that yumminess?”
Ryker chuckled, but otherwise remained silent. That silence seemed like encouragement to confide in him.
“I like him. Probably more than I should after such a short time. But I don’t want to fall to the Thorne curse of loving only one man, especially one determined to remain unattached.”
“You’re talking to a guy who waited over a decade for his wife to forgive him for past mistakes and take him back. I understand unrequited love.”
All the moisture in her mouth dried up. “I never said I loved him. That’s impossible after only a day.”
“I loved GiGi from the moment we met. No one else would do.”
“Oh, Ryker. I wish there were more men like you in the world. Romantic souls willing to wait a lifetime for the one they adore.” She toyed with the fork in front of her, debating whether she should ask about Cian or not. Giving into the urge, she met Ryker’s kind, patient eyes. “Obviously, you know each other well. Why is he closed off? What happened to make him that way?”
“In our line of work, we saw the worst of people. But Cian still had an open, optimistic view of the world—until he met Moira.”
Piper immediately hated the woman without ever knowing anything about her. Jealousy she had no right to feel twisted her guts. “What happened?” The question came out as barely a whisper, but Ryker heard.
“We believe she was sent by Zhu Lin of the Désorcelers Society. We surmised she was meant to turn Cian. Later, her motive was confirmed, but she refused to divulge her employer.”
“How was she supposed to turn him?”
“Seduce him. Get in his head and make him feel bitter about the loss of magic. Use it to make him a double agent.”
Piper’s stomach felt queasy. The idea of converting a powerless warlock was ingenious. Had Zhu Lin succeeded, he’d have had access to quite a bit of information to use against those he despised the most: the witch community.
“When did Cian discover the truth?”
“Not until after he was head over heels in love.” The words were solemn, indicating Moira had done a number on Cian with her betrayal.
“And he’s vowed to never become involved again, I’m assuming?”
“Something like that. Of course, he can be a stubborn bastard at times, but I don’t think it’s hopeless.”
But Piper would beg to differ, because Cian had already told her it was. She didn’t bother to say as much to the ever-optimistic Ryker. Let him believe his friend would find love one day.
“I think I’ll head up and write tomorrow’s must-see schedule. There are a lot of places I’d like to visit before I leave the area.” Also, she needed to find another B&B as soon as she could. Obviously, she wouldn’t stay here with temptation just a stone’s throw away.