as mine, and not Paloma’s, but I’m quick to push the thought from my head. “Xotichl and Auden are stopping by. And of course, Lita and Axel will be there.”
Dace gives me a swift kiss goodbye and revs up his truck, as I take a deep breath, adjust my cap, and break into a run.
FOUR
LITA
I pop the oven door open and frown. Despite following Paloma’s recipe to the letter, my blue-corn muffins don’t smell like Paloma’s, don’t look like Paloma’s, and how come they’re all sunken in the middle instead of fat and fluffy like hers always were?
“How long have you been awake?”
Axel pads into the kitchen, raking a hand through his platinum-blond, sleep-tousled curls as I slam the oven door closed, and hope that between now and the next five minutes when the timer goes off, some of Paloma’s kitchen magick will begin to kick in.
Though deep down inside I know the truth—Paloma is the missing ingredient. There’s just no replacing her. Most likely we’ll be having stale bagels for breakfast again.
I toss an oven mitt onto the counter and sigh. “Couldn’t sleep. And I didn’t want to wake you, so I thought I’d make us some breakfast. But, from the looks of things, that’s going to require a miracle, so don’t get your hopes up.” I allow my gaze to roam the expanse of his smooth, well-muscled chest, down the length of his finely chiseled abs, all the way to the elastic waistband of his new gray sweatpants.
“As a Mystic, I’ve worked plenty of miracles.” He crosses the kitchen until he’s standing before me, lowering his head to drop a kiss onto my lips. “How bad is it?” He glances toward the oven. “Should I perform a healing?” He wraps his arms around me, holds me tight at the waist, and centers his deep purple gaze on mine.
“I’m pretty sure it’s well beyond that. But, you could fix your sweatpants.” I jerk the tag at his waist. “They’re on backward.”
He casts a sheepish glance down the length of him and laughs. “Thought they felt a bit off. Loose in some places, snug in others. Guess I’m still not used to these things.”
“You mean, pants?” I stifle a giggle. Enjoying the spectacle of watching him drop them to the floor and getting ’em turned right around without a hint of embarrassment, as I sneak an anxious glance toward the door. The last thing I need is for Daire to walk in and catch Axel standing naked in her kitchen. “Guess it takes some getting used to.” I cock my head to the side, feigning a look of deep thought. “After all, the separate leg holes do require an entirely different skill set from wearing a dress.”
“Tunic.” Axel smiles, grasps me about the waist once again. “In the Upperworld, I wore a tunic. The females wore dresses.”
“An important distinction.” My gaze makes a greedy feast of his face, wondering if I’ll ever grow tired of looking at him.
“Glad to clear that up.” He grins. “But what I don’t understand is why I’m required to wear anything at all when, according to you anyway, you prefer to see me in my most natural state.”
“Axel!” I press a hand to my lips, swallow a self-conscious giggle. All too aware of my cheeks turning the full spectrum of red. Normally I wouldn’t be embarrassed by a statement like that. Normally I would volley right back with something equally flirtatious. But the way Axel delivers it with such sincerity, such guileless honesty, the best I can ever do is blush in response.
While he’s certainly manly in all the ways that count, sometimes he seems almost childlike in the way he’s so uncorrupted by the world. Unlike most people, he’s not driven by the usual things—vanity, pride, and ego hold no importance for him. He’s straightforward, always impeccable with his word. And his belief in me is so absolute, sometimes I find myself cowering under the weight of it, wondering if I even deserve it.
I guess because it’s so opposite of the way it was with Cade, where everything was a manipulation, a game. And while I don’t miss those days in the least, while I mostly wish I could banish them from my storehouse of memories, the truth is, I’m not always sure how to take Axel’s brand of earnest, wide-open love.
While it’s clear he’s nothing like Cade, I’m not always sure just what he is. No longer a Mystic—having broken one of his most sacred vows when he decided to spare Daire’s life last Christmas Eve—he’s since been denied admittance to the Upperworld—the place he called home.
Though he’s not entirely human either.
Which means our ways are still new to him.
And once, when he accidentally nicked his finger while trying to cut a tomato, I watched him bleed gold.
“How about Radiant Being?” He grins, proving, once again, his uncanny (and highly annoying) ability to read my mind. Catching my frown, he pulls back and says, “Sorry, was I eavesdropping?”
“Clearly.” I return to the oven, if only to confirm I’ve committed yet another case of muffin-murder. Stale bagels it is. I flip off the heat, set the pan on the stovetop to cool, and head for the fridge in search of cream cheese and jam.
“Lita, have I upset you?” He stands beside me, a scolded-puppy expression marring his beautiful face. Having failed at something he doesn’t quite understand—his intent is always to please. “I’m sorry,” he says. “I’m trying to learn your ways, truly I am. Being in love is all new to me. I thought the whole point was to share everything?”
He cocks his head, sending a tumble of white-blond curls to fall enticingly into those alluring lavender eyes.
“I’m new at love too.” I frown at the empty jam jar, place the container in the sink, and chuck the tub of cream cheese onto the counter. “And while people may claim that they want to share everything, they don’t really mean it.” I fold my arms across my chest and face him. “Thoughts are meant to be private, okay? It’s not okay to listen in.”
He nods intently, as though committing my words to memory, and I can’t help but grin in response. I don’t remember anyone ever taking me quite so seriously.
“It may please you to know that the ability is fading where all others are concerned. Though for some reason with you, it remains strong as ever.”