Heart's Price (MxM)

Chapter 32

With cliché sweetness, Ambrose makes me breakfast.

Or he tries, anyway

He wakes me up with a kiss and presents me with a mug of watery coffee and a plate of burnt toast.

"How did you survive for—how old did you say you were, again?"

"Ninety-eight."

"Ninety-eight years without learning how to cook toast?" I ask. "Also, I really hope your age doesn't catch up with you all at once—like how some guys go to sleep on the eve of their thirtieth birthday with a full head of hair and wake up bald."

"Does that really happen?"

I sigh and frown, and take a bite of blackened toast. "Only to guys with a bunch of obnoxious brothers who like to play pranks," I concede, trying not to choke on the dry bread.

"How many is a bunch?" he asks, lying beside me again propped on one elbow, his long hair falling in a tangled cascade over his shoulder.

I tell him about my brothers—about gentle Monty, and the other two-thirds of my own triplet set, Travis and Martin—and about my sisters, Freya, Sasha, and Ingrid.

"I'd like to meet them," he says, reaching over to brush a crumb from the corner of my mouth. "They sound a far sight better than my own lot, that's for certain."

I shrug. "They're alright."

Setting the plate aside I take a sip of coffee and narrowly manage to avoid spitting it back out.

"Are you trying to pamper me, or poison me?" I complain, eyeing the almost flavorless liquid with suspicion.

He laughs. "I'm usually more capable, I swear. I was...distracted."

"What by?" I ask, though I can guess well enough.

"Thoughts of you," he answers, leaning over to kiss me again. It tastes a bit like burnt toast and bad coffee, which aren't the most aphrodisiacal of flavors, but I don't really mind. He uses a bit of his strange seductive heat, while at the same time keeping it soft, and my eyes sting a little at the sweetness of it. 

It's a kiss given in love, not taken in desire.

He pulls back a little and frowns at my nascent tears, but only brushes the pads of his thumbs over the corners of my eyes and then rests his palm on my bare chest above my heart.

"Come on," he says, after a moment. "Let's get some real breakfast and enjoy the peace and quiet before the rabble arrive."

I sigh at that thought and sit up. 

I'd like nothing more than to spend a week alone with Ambrose, just getting to know him and giving him the time and space to get to know me, but it's not to be. This morning, Dane and Julian are due to visit, to check the house for weaknesses—potential points of entry and so on—and after that the first of Ambrose's family will arrive, provided Dane manages to convince them to go along with our plan.

"What do you want?" I ask, meaning for breakfast.

"A week alone with you," he replies, smiling.

I blink in surprise. "Please don't tell me dragons can read minds."

He smirks. "No, little wolf. But it's good to know we're thinking the same thing. As for breakfast, why don't you show me how to make a proper slice of toast."

I do my best, but I guess we really are thinking the same thing, and the second batch burns as well.

~ ☾ ~