Page 26 of Christmas Magic

“How do you know?” Molly picked up another hat knitted in green wool and with a small gold bell.

“After eight centuries of Galahad being my squire, I’m pretty sure I know what he will and won’t tolerate.”

“You and I might have to place bets.”

Lucian leaned in and kissed her hair over her ear. “You’d lose, milady.”

Her stomach fluttered. “Would I?”

“Mmm-hmm.”

Lucian sounded one-hundred-percent certain. But, he clearly hadn’t considered all of the options. “Galahad might wear it if it got him lots of attention.”

“Molly—”

“What if we used a photo of him in Black Cat Antiquities’ holiday publicity? The store could become famous for its adorable kitty who rocks a Santa hat.”

“Ah.” She heard interest in Lucian’s voice now. “He’d become a local celebrity.”

“Exactly. Customers would come from far and wide to have their pictures taken with him. Then they’d browse the shop.”

Lucian smiled then shook his head. “I’m kind of glad we didn’t make a bet.”

She playfully nudged him. “So, you admit I would have won?”

His eyes narrowed. “I’m not going to admit that.”

“Of course not. Badass reincarnated knights don’t like to lose.”

His smile turned smug. “I didn’t lose. Right now, you just have an idea. Galahad would have to agree to take part—not just for a day or two, but for the holiday season. It would be a challenge for him to fulfill his duties to me, be a star, and also get his naps. I already foresee problems.”

“You know, these hats are so adorable, I’m going to buy them for all of the cats.”

Lucian groaned. “No.”

“Yep. Why don’t you pick out some manly potholders for the nights when you cook dinner?”

“Manly potholders? That’s a contradiction in terms if I ever heard one.”

“At least I’m not buying you a Santa hat.”

At quarter to nine on Thursday morning, Lucian sipped the coffee he’d bought at Devon Rex Desserts and studied data from the magic detecting devices. Misgiving gnawed at him as he scrolled on his laptop, because according to yesterday’s readouts, an unusual amount of energy had registered at the craft fair, but at levels just low enough to avoid triggering his grandfather’s magical alarms. That couldn’t be coincidental.

When he’d delved deeper, he’d found traces of Molly’s magic—not just at the event but in much of the downtown area.

He could accept some of what he was seeing, for she’d been at the craft fair. However, since she’d spent most of the past few days at the shop, she couldn’t have traveled all of the streets that, according to the readouts, she’d frequented: Not unless there were two of her.

Galahad, beside Lucian’s laptop on the table, batted his hand. “Why the frown? There’s no crisis. Right?”

Lucian drank more of the strong java. If only his brain were fully awake. After leaving the craft fair, he and Molly had gone home, lit a fire, poured eggnog with a generous amount of brandy, and decorated their Christmas tree. Since this would be their first holiday as a couple, they’d sat talking afterward about Christmases when they’d been kids. They hadn’t gone to bed until close to 1 a.m.

Another swat of Galahad’s fluffy paw. “Hell-llloooooo?”

“Sorry. I’m just not sure what to make of what I’m seeing.”

“What are you see—?”

Tap, tap, tap.