Cresent Prophecy Axelle Chandler (beach read .txt) 📖

husks and stuff. Which brought me back to my first argument—Boone was mad for dismissing my need to confirm Lucy’s orientation. Fae, human, or otherwise influenced.

“So hot,” Lucy said, fanning herself. “Lucky you! Does he have a brother?”

“No, luckily for me, there’s only one of him.” One with many furry faces.

“Shame,” she said with a sigh. “I would’ve asked you to set me up.”

“No boyfriend, huh?”

She shook her head.

Thinking about last night’s lamb sandwich, I curled my lip. It wasn’t happily ever after once people got together, that was for sure. After the kiss and the declaration of feelings and all that soppy shite was when the real work began.

We were so engrossed in boy talk that when the bell above the door rang, we both jumped a mile. Turning, all the blood drained from my face when I saw who it was.

He was shorter than Boone by a head, his skin bronzed from years playing Aussie Rules football out in the Australian sun. His hair was lightened to a mousy blond, his muscles giving away his penchant for athletics…on the field and off. Alex Rosedale, my Australian ex-boyfriend, was standing in my shop in Ireland. Once, I would’ve said I loved him, but now I wanted to asphyxiate on my own vomit at the sight of him.

“What the…cac,” I swore using the Irish word for shit. Was this the Three of Swords manifesting? Had to be.

“Skye,” he said, his accent sounding strange to my ears after months of living among the thick Irish spoken in Derrydun.

“How…”

“An old lady over in that pink cafe told me I would find you here,” he said.

“Mary,” I said, narrowing my eyes. “Her name is Mary.”

He shrugged. “Uh, can we talk?”

I glanced at Lucy, who was watching our exchange with curiosity.

“Can you hold the fort for a sec?” I asked. “I won’t be long.”

When she nodded, I grabbed Alex’s arm and practically dragged him out onto the street.

“Ow,” he complained as I pulled him away from the shop and down the footpath. “Skye, you’re worse than a ruckman with that grip.”

“What are you doing here?” I demanded, letting him go.

“Good to see you, too.” He rubbed his arm and looked back at the shop. “Do you work there?”

“I own it,” I retorted. “How did you even know I was here?”

“You changed your hometown on your social media profile.”

I rolled my eyes. Moron.

“Skye, you just disappeared and never came back. Everyone was worried about you.”

“Yeah, right.” I couldn’t believe that. All my friends had been his first, and when people broke up, they usually stuck with what they knew. Which meant I was ejected from the circle.

“I’m sorry about your mum,” he went on, scratching his head nervously.

“Shit happens.”

“Can we go somewhere and have lunch or something? So we can talk.”

“I can’t leave the shop,” I replied. “It’s Lucy’s first day.”

He glanced over my shoulder at Irish Moon and didn’t mask his disappointment.

“You never really talked about your mum before,” he said. “And now you’re living in her house and running her business.”

“So?” It came out a little short, but I didn’t need to justify myself to him. He was the one who’d dumped me, magical conspiracy or not.

“So?” His eyebrows rose. “It’s a little left of center for you.”

“I needed a fresh start,” I replied with a sullen shrug. “After being handed a redundancy and dumped, the last thing I needed was to rot in Melbourne.”

“Ouch.”

“You’re hurt?” I raised my eyebrows. “Sheesh.”

Not able to look at him anymore, I turned my gaze to Molly McCreedy’s where I saw Maggie out the front. She waved when she saw me and began to walk toward us. Great.

I was usually glad to see the Irish bartender, we’d become great friends, but having Alex standing here being argumentative about our breakup—and why was he here, anyway?—wasn’t good for my psyche. I would have to explain who he was, and I didn’t want to do that, not with the way the Derrydun gossip mill operated.

“Hey,” she said, standing beside us. “I just wanted to know if you and Boone…” She trailed off and stared at Alex. “Who’s this?”

“This is Alex,” I said, glaring at my stupid ex-boyfriend. “He’s a…um…friend from home.”

“Friend?” His lip curled.

Like a beacon of hope, a giant gold coach appeared around the corner, passed us, and began navigating around the hawthorn. Forget saved by the bell, I was saved from further awkwardness by the bus.

“I’ve got to get back to work,” I said, pointing at the coach.

Alex scowled, clearly aware I was pushing him away. “Well, can we talk later?”

“Sure, whatever.”

Thankfully, he chose to walk away, and Maggie and I watched him move down the footpath and cross the street before he disappeared behind Mary’s Teahouse where the car park was.

Thoroughly annoyed, anxious, and on tenterhooks with my temper, I turned to storm back into Irish Moon, but Maggie caught my arm before I escaped inside.

“That’s your ex? What’s he doin’ here of all places?”

“Hell if I know,” I muttered, desperate to get away.

“Does Boone know?”

“No! Alex just showed up now. I didn’t know he was coming. I’d forgotten all about him, like an epic bitch.”

Maggie gave me a pointed look that said everything. Men didn’t usually show up in tiny villages in foreign countries on the other side of the world looking for their ex-girlfriends unless they wanted something. Like getting back together.

“No!” I exclaimed. “No way.”

“Just watch out, is all I’m sayin’.” Maggie shrugged and started to walk away as the bus began to offload its cargo of cashed-up tourists. “Who ended it?”

“He did!” I wanted to stamp my foot like a pouty toddler who wasn’t allowed any more chocolate.

Maggie let out a slow whistle.

Rolling my eyes, I bolted back into the shop where Lucy was readying herself for her first wave of tourists to hit the floorboards.

Alex, here in Derrydun? He couldn’t have shown up at a worse time. Things were awkward with Boone and me, I had a business to run, and