The campers, his fresh kills, not the cave, which appeared to be his pre-zombie digs.
“If that got his boxers in a twist, that zombigo has more self-awareness than I would like.”
“Zombigo?” He huffed out a soft laugh. “Wendigo zombie?”
Inordinately pleased with him for putting it together, I flashed him a smile. “Exactly.”
His gaze snagged on my lips, and I resisted the urge to wet them, as my romance novels suggested I do.
“I made a gift for Colby, but I wanted to show you first.” He eased back a step. “To get your approval.”
“Color me intrigued.” I ignored how my heart turned to mush at his thinking of her. “Whatcha got?”
At the SUV, he opened the rear hatch, hesitated, then pulled out a flat white box. “It’s not much.”
From his tone, I could tell he believed that. Otherwise, he would have brought it up sooner.
In gifting Colby her laptop early, I must have ruined his surprise, which made me want to kick myself.
“I’m sure she’ll love it.” I removed the lid while he held the box. “Oh, wow.”
A knitted blanket in shades of green sat neatly folded inside. Raised leaves gave a 3D effect to the design that blew my mind. I had no idea knitting could be this intricate, or that he was so gifted at his craft. It fit with her bedroom’s forest theme at home, and she would love the velvety soft yarn he used to create it.
“It’s gorgeous.” I was afraid to lift it from the box, but I could tell it was Colby-sized. “She’s going to flip.”
“It’s not tech, so I wasn’t sure she would like it.” He frowned into the box, as if he only saw flaws where I only saw beauty. “The thing is…” He put the lid on it. “The throw has a gift I wanted to discuss with you.”
“I thought the throw was the gift.”
One I would steal for myself in a heartbeat if she neglected it for one single minute.
“I mentioned while you were recovering that I practice Tinkkit.” He shrugged it off like mastering ancient fae crafts were no big. Maybe he was embarrassed? Knitting wasn’t mainstream for guys. For daemons? Unheard of. But it fit this dae well. “You were overwhelmed at the time, so you might not remember.”
“The sight of you knitting, in glasses, is etched onto my frontal lobe.”
That jerked his gaze straight to mine, and his bright eyes burned crimson.
“The yarn was green,” I recalled, willing him to forget my lobe. “You were working on this even then?”
Rather than admit it, he fiddled with the lid. “It repels bad dreams.”
“Are you serious?” I stood there, mouth hanging open. “How are you not a billionaire?”
If I could imbue that type of magic into a practical piece of art like this, I would be the Queen of Etsy and spend my days Scrooge McDucking through my vault of gold coins. Or maybe not. I always thought that would hurt when I watched the cartoon. I would go with dollar bills. Those I could wad into balls to make my own money vault/ball pit. I bet Colby would love it.
And…I had been fantasizing a beat too long if the concern tightening his expression was any indication.
“I don’t sell these.” He clutched the box against his chest. “The magic only works when freely given.”
“I meant no offense.” I rested a hand on his arm. “This is incredible. Truly. Thank you.”
“Would you mind?” Slowly, as if convincing himself it wouldn’t end up on Etsy, he held it out, his request clear. “I’m not sure how she would take it from me.”
“I do mind.” I hooked my arm through his. “She likes you, and she’ll love this.”
Dragging his feet, he entered the house behind me, earning us a curious glance from Clay.
“Asa made you a gift.” I hauled him over to her. “Want to see?”