Page 19 of The Tea Witch’s Secret

"Lotus seeds are full of health benefits," Lian replied, seeming to be staring at my arms.

I tensed my muscles a little extra when I reached for a bowl, wondering if she was admiring me or if she was simply looking. I couldn't tell, but it didn't hurt to flex a little. Just in case she was checking me out. I emptied the lotus paste into a bowl and got a new mortar, so I could do the same for the red beans.

Lian busied herself at the stove, finding two good-sized pans so she could put the lotus paste in one and the red beans in the other. She drizzled some local honey over the top of both pastes, along with a little bit of lard to thicken them up.

"We've got to stir constantly so they don't burn," she said.

"Got it." I grabbed a wooden spoon and held it out to her, grabbing one for myself so that I could do the same for the red beans.

"These feel nice," she said of the spoon.

"They are. There's a cherry dryad woodworker who has lived in Purple Oak since I was a girl. My dad took me to his workshop once when I needed a new set of spoons and I saw him at work. He claims that cherry wood is the best for carving this kind of thing."

"Is he right?" Lian asked.

I shrugged. "They're the best spoons I've ever used."

"Do people not think it's odd?"

"To make wooden spoons?" I checked while trying not to think too much about how close together we were standing. I could smell a floral aroma over the caramelising sugar that I was fairly sure came from Lian's hair. Or maybe it was her body soap.

"That a dryad cuts down the trees to make things." She stirred the lotus paste as she asked.

"Oh, no. It's not strange at all. It's the cycle of things. He would never damage the population of cherry trees, but that doesn't mean he can't make things from it. This is his way of honouring the trees."

"I see."

"And for fun, he carves a bee into each one."

"A bee?"

"Mmhmm." I lifted the spoon I was using and turned it over so she could see the tiny raised bee near the bowl of the spoon.

She turned over her own, frowning when she didn't find it.

"It's on the handle on that one," I said. "Here." I pointed it out to her.

"Why does he do that?"

I shrugged. "For fun. And because his husband is a keeper. I think it's his way of proclaiming how much he loves him."

"That's sweet."

"It is." I smiled at her.

"What would you carve on it?" she asked.

"I don't know, I don't have a wife," I responded.

We lapsed into silence until Lian announced that the pastes were ready, and left them to cool so they could be handled without us burning ourselves.

No matter what I did, I couldn't help but look at Lian as she started making the dough, and eventually showed me how to shape the mooncakes. First rolling the ball of filling, and then covering it in the dough and making it into a ball before pressing it down into the mould with confidence that told me just how many times she'd made these.

I tried my best to focus on her movements so I could do it myself, but I kept getting distracted by her fingers. Her long fingers. They moved with elegance, but there was power behind them.

Just thinking about how those fingers might press and move, it was doing funny things to my stomach. Not to mention somewhere else.

I wasn't just heading for trouble, I was already knee-deep in it.