When Austin came in with the second cooler, I grabbed his arm in desperation. “Can I borrow your cabin for a couple weeks? Please?”
He laughed softly. “This is going to be a lot more fun for me than it will be for you.”FourI awoke, as I always did, to Mr. Tom’s face looming over me, his hands up to ward off an attack should I startle and react. I hadn’t in months, but he still hadn’t forgotten those early magical days when I’d accidentally flung him across the room. Using his hands as a shield hadn’t helped then, either, but you couldn’t fault the guy for trying.
“What are you going to do if I ever bring someone home?” I asked, the smell of bacon wafting through the air. My stomach growled.
“One can only hope I will eventually be faced with that conundrum, miss.” He straightened up to give me more space now that I was awake. A steaming cup of coffee waited on my nightstand.
I picked it up and took a sip. “What are the parents doing?”
I struggled to sitting and glanced at the clock. Nine in the morning, early for him to be in here. Magical people tended to move around more at night and sleep in late. It was a schedule I’d grown used to, although my parents adhered to a very different norm. Case in point—after their travels, a few beers, and a large snack that Mr. Tom had made before my mother could get into the kitchen, my dad had fallen asleep in his new chair, seemingly oblivious to all the other people in the room. My mom had insisted on ushering him to bed in embarrassment. I’d helped get them situated in their room, and that had been the end of it. They hadn’t come back down, opting instead for an early bedtime.
“The parents are currently filling downstairs with either smell or noise, that is what the parents are doing.” He sniffed. “Your mother commandeered the kitchen. She had the gall to try to rip my wings off so she could give them a fresh wash!”
I couldn’t help chuckling. “She doesn’t know they’re wings, Mr. Tom. She probably thinks you never wash your cape.”
“I took a shower this morning, I’ll have you know.”
“Right but…” I let it go. “She’s making breakfast?”
“Yes. We’ll need to let the others wander freely today. You’ll have to make those introductions.” He moved toward the door. “And your father needs a hearing aid. The TV volume is up so loud I worry it’ll crack the windows. When one of his racecars go by the screen, it sounds like thunder. There are a lot of racecars!”
I sighed. “He’s hard of hearing. It’s only for a week or so. We can tolerate it for that length of time.”
“And your mother clangs and smashes the pots and pans off each other. I had to take over and set them out for her so she wouldn’t deafen me. I can only imagine all the chips and scrapes we’ll have on the dishes.”
“It’s only a week or so,” I repeated. “It’ll be fine.”
Rigid, he left the room, leaving me to get ready.
After a shower, I checked my phone and noticed a missed FaceTime from Austin. My hair was still wrapped in a towel, my body encased in a robe, but I shrugged and took the phone over to the window. Looking down at the beautiful gardens, more flowers popping up every day, I hit the button and waited for it to connect.
The picture clicked on, showing a bare chest ripped with muscle before the image swung dizzily, giving me a peep of Austin’s nude package, what had to be his bedroom, the ceiling, and then his ear. “Hey,” he answered.
I froze. I’d seen Austin naked a good few times—bouts of semi-public nakedness were inevitable for anyone who changed form—and it stopped me short every single time. His perfect body was hard to look away from, rendered even more pleasing by his confident grace, and the sudden heat dripping through parts of my body was equally as hard to ignore.
“It’s FaceTime,” I said to his ear, a little rougher than I’d intended. “You FaceTimed me. I FaceTimed you back.”
After a beat, the phone pulled away from his head and his confused face filled the screen. “Oh. Sorry, I must’ve hit that by accident. I didn’t notice.”
“Clearly, yes. You gave me a peep show.”
He glanced down, and a sly smile tweaked his lips. He shook his head and looked away.
“You’re trying not to make a dirty joke, aren’t you?” I asked.
“Busted.” He laughed, thick and deep and pleasing. “How are your parents settling in?”
I pulled the towel off my head and headed toward the bathroom, where I grabbed a brush. “They went to bed shortly after you left for the bar.”