Pleased Miss Potts agreed to the lemonade, Quin finished up squeezing everything, summoning the sugar from the far counter and the pitcher. With practiced movements he thawed the pitcher, tossed everything into the cold water, stirring it all together with a satisfied smile.

"I very rarely forget a favorite sweet, Miss Dahlia." He assured her, as he poured two glasses of lemonade and made his way to the island. "It's also rare for me to get such candid feedback on new sweets like yours has been. Which I appreciate." Quin slid one glass toward Miss Potts as he added a little lavender-honey syrup to his own glass and settled one hip against the wood of the counter.

His tush still hurt from the goose bite which is why he hasn't sat down and he sort of worried there was a hole in his pants, not to mention an actual wound, but he was doing with pretending otherwise, until Miss Potts was feeling more herself.