“Yes, you’re right. I just worried…” He sighed in relief. “It would’ve been fine, of course. This is your house and your yard and, by default, your flowers. I just champion for the grounds. And I did put in that row near the wood to hopefully slow him down so I could try to reserve my future prizewinners, but I wanted to nip the situation in the bud…” He lifted his eyebrows and chuckled. “Get it? Because we’re talking about flowers?” Austin turned to look at him with a blank stare. “Anyway, I was hoping to put some parameters on the feeding frenzy. If it had been him, of course. I wasn’t accusing him, just wondering, that’s all.”
I stopped myself from laughing. “If I trade for flowers again, Edgar, you’ll be in on the negotiations this time.”
“Oh, good. Yes, that’s comforting.” He put his hand out. “I remain your humble servant, of course, merely in charge of growing your flowers, not ruling them.”
Austin continued to stare, no expression. It was the look he favored when dealing with Edgar. Laughter slipped out of me.
“If you do strike another bargain, I’ll put together a nice little buffet for him,” Edgar went on. “I have some real delectable treats. I’d love to plan his courses, even.” He steepled his hands against his lips and bowed his head. “If I might be allowed.”
Austin shook himself out of the moment. “I’ll wait for you out front,” he said to me.
I laughed harder and put my hand against his popping bicep. “No, it’s fine. We’re done. Right, Edgar? There was nothing else?”
“That was it. I just wanted to get my ducks in a row. I’ll go ahead and make up a concoction to kill those deer—”
“Wait, what?” I pulled my hand away from Austin. “No, Edgar, you can’t kill the deer! Use a spray or something to keep them away.”
“Oh no, Jessie, if a rogue deer has developed a taste for my flowers, that’s the end of it. They’re a real pest. It’s like a drug to them. That’s why I was a little concerned about that basajaun. I don’t want to be immodest, but I am the lawn and gardens county winner at the home and garden festival every year. Killing it is the only way.”
My mouth dropped open. “No. You cannot… I thought you said deer don’t even typically like magical flowers?”
“They usually don’t, no, but every once in a while… You’ve heard of man-eating lions, haven’t you?” He tilted his head at me as if to denote there was a very real, very detrimental connection between the two phenomena. Austin was back to staring. “Once they get a taste for human flesh, that’s all they want. Same with those deer and my flowers. It’s safer to just put them down.”
“Don’t kill the deer,” Austin said, and a whip crack of power infused his words, the alpha in him demanding obedience.
Edgar’s jaw snapped shut. He bowed under Austin’s hard stare. “Yes, alpha. But please realize that I cannot be held responsible for the creatures constantly loitering around like groupies. I wash my hands of this.”
A silent beat followed, in which Austin and I stood staring at each other in the lovely March sunlight. Winter had been cold and sometimes harsh, compared to what I was used to in L.A., but it had rolled away pretty quickly, giving way to sunshine and the sea of flowers around us.
“Okay then.” I nodded, turned, and strode for the front of the house. There really wasn’t much more to say and do in this situation. Gotta stay away from those brain bubbles.
“I think he has gotten weirder,” Austin murmured as he caught up. “Man-eating lions and deer hanging around like groupies? What is he talking about?”
“Best not to question for too long. And it might not even be deer.”
Austin shook his head as we made our way to the front yard. Niamh sat on her porch across the way, rocking in her chair next to the pile of rocks she kept on hand in case a tourist happened to wander down the street to look at Ivy House. That poor tourist would quickly learn what an amazing shot Niamh was with those rocks.
“He really has gone overboard with the flower production.” Austin glanced at the flowers lining the little walkway that cut close to the house in the front before joining up with the main walkway to the front porch. “The smell is overwhelming.”
“Yeah. I need to have Mr. Tom talk Edgar back a bit.”
“Why didn’t you just mention something back there?”
“Every time he messes up, he asks me to kill him. I don’t want to send him into another existential crisis.”
“Jesus,” Austin murmured, and his tone made giggles dance up through me.
“Anyway, what do you need?”
He stopped on the porch and looked out over the street, the late afternoon sun trickling down through the maple trees and speckling the sidewalk. “Do you have a couple of hours?”