Chapter Twenty-Seven #2
I throw a fry at him expecting it to smack him in the face. Instead he lurches forward and snatches it with his mouth out of the air. Damn wolf reflexes. Something I’m going to have to remember if I ever plan to pull a prank like that on him.
He’s mid-munch of the fry, smirking at me, when he says, “I could definitely get used to this.”
I might be rolling my eyes and not responding, but really, I could too.
After lunch, I do everything I can to ignore the elephant in the room.
But it’s a little hard when he’s still writing notes in his notebook, still reading the Witch 101 book, and the afternoon sun is warming the spot he’s sitting in.
The glitter in his hair, that I still don’t understand why he loves, is refracting off my shelves as it shimmers in the light.
Deciding I clearly won’t get any more work done today, I clean up my workspace as I feel his eyes on me. Watching me as much as I have been him. We are dancing around the truth, something we haven’t really talked about.
“We done for today?” he asks as he closes his book and stacks his notebook on top of it with his pen.
He’s already establishing a routine. I smile as I watch him move with ease in my space after such a short time.
“When did this become a we?” I arch my eyebrow at him.
He smirks. “The minute you didn't hex me and you let me feed you today without a snarky comment.”
I’m speechless. Not because of what he said but more so that he’s right. We’ve already fallen into an ease with each other that I wasn’t wielding my sarcasm to keep him away today. More to have fun with him.
He walks over and wraps his arm around my shoulder before reaching behind his back to pull my arm around his waist.
“Now, as for dinner. Do I even want to know what ingredients you have at your house or should we just go ahead and do our first domestic task together?”
“Domestic…what?”
He pulls me towards the door. Giving me a dose of my own medicine when he says, “Yeah I figured as much. Off to the grocery store we go!” he shouts as I groan.
The glistening red apples in the wooden crates outside Apple a smile spreads across his face.
“Why don’t you take a bath? Is that something you enjoy doing?”
“Uh…I enjoy baths. You sure you don’t want me to help?”
His head shakes gently from side to side. “Nope, I want you to relax while I make dinner. Take a bath, read a book, light some candles. Do whatever will help you relax.”
“Okay, but you’re sure you don’t need my help? I don’t mind cutting the vegetables or stirring the sauce.”
“Shoo, go on. I’ll be fine!”
I just stare at him until he turns around and gets to work. He’s opening cabinets, searching for something. My mouth opens, ready to ask, but he holds up a finger. Not even turning around, he says, “I’ll be fine, Bellamy. Go on.”
Nyx sits in his normal spot on the counter, glancing between the two of us.
Almost as if he’s waiting for me to hex Miles for shooing me out of my kitchen.
When I don’t, he tilts his head, narrowing his eyes at me, before he shakes his head, and lays down.
Apparently, even my familiar is done with me.
The bath is warm, filled with dried roses and lavender sprigs, and just the right level of comfort as I lay there.
I can feel the muscles along my back relaxing.
With my eyes closed, the warm water surrounding me and the floral scent in the air, I should be relaxing.
But all I can think about is the wolf in my kitchen making dinner.
I can’t relax. I’ve tried for ten minutes now, but I want to know what he’s doing. The air is chilly against my heated skin as I stand up and grab my towel. I’m drying off when there’s a knock at the door.
Miles’s voice comes through. “Dinner’s ready.”
Since I’ve owned the house, I have never used my dining room.
I like to think that someone used to host lavish dinner parties in it, but not me.
The table is clean of any dust, the candles are lit, and there are piles of food lining it: from a massive bowl of spaghetti with meatballs to the overflowing basket of garlic knots.
You would think he was hosting said dinner party, not making dinner for just the two of us.
He even has wine poured into crystal glasses. I don’t even know where he found those.
But as my eyes scan the table, taking in every single thing he’s done in the time I was in the bath, I can’t recall a time anyone has ever done something even remotely close to this for me.
Not a single birthday party ever had this much food or care put into it.
He’s put more time and attention into a simple dinner than anyone has ever put into big moments in my life.
Miles pushes the door open with his back, gliding into the room as if this has been part of his life all along. When he whirls around, his face lights up when he spots me standing there. He carries in a freshly-baked apple pie using my oven mitts, which I’ve never used. Who is this guy?
“You’re just in time! I just pulled this beauty out of the oven and was about to come searching for you.” He sets the pie down on the table and walks over to hold out my chair.
Hesitantly, I walk over and sit down as he pushes it forward before taking his own seat right next to me.
My eyebrow hooks up as I watch him unfold one of those cloth napkins and place it on his lap. He chuckles before handing me one of my own.
“Don’t look at me like that. Just because I’m a dog, as you claim, doesn’t mean I don’t have table manners.”
I laugh. “I never said you were a dog.”
Now it’s his turn to laugh. “Trouble, you’ve taken every opportunity to call me a dog or make a dog-related jab. Don’t pretend otherwise now that you like me.”
“Who said I like you now?”
“Well, for one,” he holds up a finger between us, “I’ve made it almost 24 hours without a dog jab.”
Another finger flicks up. “Two, you haven’t hexed me in at least a few days now. Although that one actually worries me more than reassures me.”
I chuckle. “Does it now?”
He nods his head. “Yeah, I’ve pretty much determined that hexing me is your love language at this point.”
“Fair, you might be onto something there.”
He smirks as if he didn’t need that confirmation but will take it all the same. “Third, you actually let me make you dinner. So at this point we are practically married.”
I spit out my wine as my mouth hangs open. Whoa, married?
Miles grabs another napkin, dabbing at the wine I just spewed everywhere. He laughs, but me? I’m still sitting here, choking on the word.
“Bellamy, breathe. I didn’t say we are married; it was a joke.”
“I’m sorry. It’s just a lot. I’ve gone from a solitary life with Nyx to two new pets and a fated mate that I didn’t even know anything about until he showed up in my town.
I’m still adjusting to the idea of something I don’t even understand.
We haven’t exactly talked about what being fated mates even means.
Does it mean that you are moving in with me? ”
He sets the napkin down, twisting to face me. “Is that an option on the table?”
I point my fork at him, glaring at him.
He laughs as he takes a sip of his own wine.
“I thought we would make it through dinner and dessert before this conversation, but we can do it now.”
“Yeah, well, there isn’t exactly a handbook I can go to for answers. Which is my normal go-to. All I know is you just showed up one day and suddenly my life feels…different. You are consuming my thoughts.”
He rubs the back of his neck. “I’m going to be honest here.
I don’t know how this will go for you since you are a witch.
But for a wolf, it’s instinct. Wolves don’t question it because they feel it in every part of us.
Down to our atoms. It’s in every aspect of us.
For me, it’s simple: You are my one and only.
The person I would die to protect, annoy with all my sunshine, and make spaghetti for… ”
“Fantastic, so it’s a magical collar and you’re holding the leash.”
He grins, dimples flashing, and I’m trying not to melt. I’ve never liked the idea of fate telling me everything I will do. It’s one thing that Elora and I’ve fought over our entire lives.
He leans closer, his fingers running through my hair, sending chills over my scalp.
“Not a leash, Trouble. More like a tether. Even when you push me away, I’m drawn towards you. It is beyond fate and beyond force. There’s a trust. You are my home.”
My chest aches as the word “home” echoes around us.
I’ve never felt at home anywhere other than my shop, where my magic protects me.
I swirl spaghetti around my fork, shoving it into my mouth, avoiding the overwhelming feelings circling inside me.
The sauce flicks across the edge of my mouth as I suck in the noodles.
But before I can wipe my mouth with my napkin, Miles leans across the table.
His thumb brushes against my cheek, slow, and deliberate. His hazel eyes round as they hold mine.
He’s so close, close enough that I can see the amber flecks in the sea of blues and greens. Our breaths mingle; our combined heart rates are making their own music.
“And sometimes…it’s knowing when to stop talking and just show you what it will be like.”
I don’t give him a chance I don’t hesitate. Leaning forward, I capture his lips with mine. He doesn’t move at first. Just frozen as if he never believed this moment would actually happen.