Northwoods Magic (Northwoods Fairy Tales Book 1) by Lafawn Desiree

Author:Lafawn, Desiree [Lafawn, Desiree]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Published: 2017-07-24T04:00:00+00:00

Corbin could not believe his eyes as he brought out the dinner and laid the repast down the center of the large banquet table in the middle of the dining area. Two of the square tables had been pushed together to accommodate everyone plus the food comfortably. With one eyebrow raised, he laid the platter containing the slow cooked pork roast in front of where their “dinner guest” sat and maintained eye contact with the bushy-browed old man the entire time. Laid down the large salad bowl – slow blink. Roasted red potatoes – blink. All the way down the table as Corbin put dishes of food from the cart he had wheeled from the kitchen, he never took his eyes off the old man.

The Green Man was in his dining room, getting ready to share a meal. In all the years that Corbin had known the green man, he had never seen him inside the lodge. Did magical forest guardians even eat? If they did eat, was it even human food? The old man’s eyebrows lowered in consternation, and he gave Corbin a baleful look, as if he knew what the young man had been thinking.

He always did that. Sometimes the old man knew Corbin’s thoughts before he spoke them, and that pissed Corbin off. Come to think of it, Miss Benny seemed to have a knack for doing the same damn thing, but she was a little more tactful about it. Sometimes he wondered if Miss Benny was something other like Quinn or the old man or even himself, but so far she wasn’t talking, and he wasn’t going to ask.

Corbin didn’t say much while everyone was eating; he was too busy watching Quinn’s facial expressions while she ate the food he made for her. Food he put his soul into for her. She was breathtaking to look at, but she was very delicate and frail as well. If that was normal for her then fine, but if she was so wan because she wasn’t taking care of herself properly, then he would make damn sure to put some meat on her bones himself. He had learned the gift of cooking from Miss Benny, and she had been magic in the kitchen. Pun maybe intended, Corbin thought to himself. Miss Benny was a mystery.

The dinner passed with Miss Benny and Rose making small talk about the weather and how many guests had reservations for the summer, the old man not saying shit to anyone and just staring a hole at Quinn, and Quinn making noncommittal responses to small talk questions throw her way. Corbin stayed mainly silent until he finally couldn’t take it anymore and snapped.

“Are we really going to act like this isn’t the weirdest meal we have ever shared and that nothing is going on? Is that really a thing that is happening right now? I don’t know about you, but in the ten years I have lived here, I have never had the local forest deity over for supper.

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