Chapter 4 #2
“Could it be Zilek?” Still smirking, Tezilly waved to the table in the back.
Zilek had risen from his chair and was gesturing expansively, telling some grandiose tale, probably one that highlighted dragon stamina.
Still leaning against the wall, Sylin wore the same cool masked expression as before, though Vilma had placed a large cup of steaming coffee in her grip.
If Sylin hadn’t taken an occasional sip, she would have looked like a statue chiseled from stone for all that she changed in the face of Zilek’s zeal.
“I don’t pine for him, no,” Rylana said.
“How odd.”
“I need to speak with Jildarin about something important.” Rylana placed a few coppers on the table and rose.
“Oh, I’m sure.”
“Not that. I mean, not right now. First, I need to make sure he doesn’t go see my father.
” Two hells, wouldn’t that go over well?
Jildarin striding into one of her father’s business meetings to ask his opinion on dragons as suitors?
Even worse, Jildarin might bring up Rylana’s nonexistent virginity.
By the gods, she had to hurry. “Will you keep an eye out for Sylin and make sure she survives the rest of her date?”
“She’s survived months of being hunted down by elves trying to end the threat to the Shaldona family’s succession plans for their kingdom,” Tezilly pointed out.
“How did you get all the details on that?” Rylana doubted Sylin had gone into an in-depth explanation.
“I own a coffee shop. I hear almost as much as the owner of the tavern on the other side of our back alley. Caffeine doesn’t make customers quite as open and loquacious as alcohol, but chattiness is still a frequent side effect.”
“Right. Well, Sylin can take care of herself. I’m just a little protective of her since we’ve watched each other’s backs for years.” Rylana lowered her voice to admit, “And I’m the one who set her up on that date.”
“Date?” Tezilly looked toward the table. “Is that what that is?”
“You couldn’t tell from the impassioned ardor on the faces of the participants?” Rylana acknowledged the ardor was one-sided, but Zilek looked enthusiastic enough for both of them.
“Is that what ardor looks like on an elf?” Tezilly pointed her pencil at Sylin’s stony face.
“Yeah, you can practically hear the vibrations of her heartstrings.”
Tezilly took her notepad and the coins and rose. “Go ahead. I’ll be happy to chaperone to make sure their ardor doesn’t overtake them. At least not on one of the tables in our shop.”
That wasn’t precisely the scenario that Rylana worried about, but with thoughts of Jildarin speaking about courting with her father in mind, she felt compelled to hurry away. “Just make sure to keep sharp objects away from Sylin’s hands,” she said in parting.
The delivery wagon was rolling away as Rylana hurried across the street.
With the diner between the lunch and dinner hours, the front room was empty, save for one of Gniknik’s newer inventions—a combination duster, sweeper, and mop—whirring about, leaving suds on the floor.
The kitchen had been cleaned, left as meticulous as always by her fastidious partner, and was empty.
In the storeroom, Rylana found Gniknik unloading sacks of oats, flour, sugar, and other staples from his versatile dish-collection device.
And, ah, there was Jildarin. He’d placed the crates in a corner, and he brightened when he saw Rylana.
“Come, my partner,” he said, “new items have arrived for you to inventory.”
“I saw them arrive, yes.” Reminded that she did have a job at the diner, one that involved more than talk of courting, Rylana held up a finger and grabbed her ledger and pencil from the office. She also tucked the horn into a drawer so she wouldn’t have to carry it around.
“I see you were eager to come over and tend to your duties,” Jildarin said as she returned. “You are an excellent business partner.”
“I try to be.” Rylana glanced around, wondering where Jildarin’s book had gone, as she approached him.
He handed her a receipt that the gnome must have given him.
It seemed he had business on his mind. Appropriately so.
It was the middle of the workday. That was what she should have in her thoughts as well.
“I’d like to talk to you about something private tonight after work, if you don’t mind. ”
Before you take off to visit my father, Rylana thought as she came to his side.
“I do not mind. Do you desire me to count these items as you tally them?”
“Sure.” Rylana was moderate to excellent at counting but liked having him around.
Maybe Gniknik would leave, and there would be a natural lead-in to the topic she wanted to discuss even more than inventory.
She looked at their gnome worker and also noticed Jildarin looking at Gniknik before his gaze returned to her.
“I have thus far verified there are six boxes of cornstarch,” Jildarin said.
Rylana laughed softly to herself and took the receipt, marking that line off as she laid it on her ledger.
“You smell of coffee,” Jildarin said. “Did you go inside the shop?”
Realizing he might have glimpsed her through the window but not known she was spying, she said, “For a latte and to make sure things go all right with Sylin. I’m sure Zilek told you that she’s meeting him for a date, the one I talked her into in order to gain access to his wine club.”
“I remember.” Jildarin gazed at her, his eyelids drooping.
She didn’t know what to make of the expression. Was he upset that she’d been spending time over there during the middle of the workday?
“Do you believe she will have coitus with him?” Jildarin asked.
Rylana blinked. “Er.”
Whatever was on his mind, believing her negligent about her duties wasn’t it.
“No,” she said.
“Zilek claims he is handsome, charismatic, and virile, and that females desire him greatly.”
“He’s okay. If he were that great, those dragon females would be after him rather than you, though, right?” Rylana smiled.
Jildarin’s expression darkened, and she berated herself for bringing them up. She’d only meant to make a joke, but, now he would think about the threat to her. After his discussion with his brother, what if he was rethinking the wisdom of courting her? Or having anything to do with her?
Jildarin stepped closer, lifted his arm, and gripped her shoulder. His touch was gentle, but his expression earnest. And… concerned?
“Three female dragons from the Sunclaw clan were sighted in the mountains nearby,” he said. “You will remain close to me.”
Usually, she would have bristled and maybe teased him about issuing orders, but she was distracted by noticing the heat of his hand through her shirt. She gazed at the strong line of his jaw, the aching beauty of his intent emerald eyes.
“Is that why we’re doing inventory together?” she asked lightly, glancing toward Gniknik. He was studiously ignoring them and had almost finished unloading his container. “Have you counted the boxes of baking soda yet?”
“There are four. And I believe that Loxvonla and Foxvonla, in particular, might change into two-legged forms to enter the city and look for you. They might even encroach upon my lair. That would be presumptuous.” His voice lowered, almost to a growl.
“And dangerous for one who I’ve not invited to enter.
” Hand still resting on her shoulder, he brushed his thumb along the side of her neck, sending a hot zing of pleasure through her.
“Like me,” she whispered.
His eyes narrowed. “You invited yourself in.”
“Yeah, but I think you don’t mind that so much now. You did buy me a bedroom set, after all.”
“I do not mind.” Despite the narrowed eyes, he didn’t look displeased. His intent gaze remained locked on her, and her entire body heated. Those tiny brushes from his thumb were electric, and she caught herself scooting closer. “You will remain in my lair,” he said.
“I will,” she whispered. Then, deciding that sounded far more subservient than she preferred, she added, “It’s a very comfortable bed.”
Jildarin looked toward it contemplatively, and her earlier thoughts—her earlier fantasy—sprang to mind. Then his gaze shifted toward their company in the storeroom.
“We will complete the unloading of your contraption, Gniknik,” Jildarin said. “You will leave now.”
“Sure thing, Chef.”
After glancing at them, Gniknik trotted into the hallway without looking back. Jildarin’s gaze returned to Rylana. Was he also contemplating what they might do in the bed?
“Perhaps, after spending time with him, she will change her mind,” Jildarin said.
Rylana almost blurted, “Who?” before remembering they’d been discussing Sylin and Zilek.
“I don’t think so,” Rylana said, surprised Jildarin cared.
“I want another female on my brother’s mind. He will not lust after you.”
“Oh,” she said in understanding and set the ledger and pencil on a crate.
“I think he’s more into elves,” she added before remembering that Zilek had remarked on her curves before.
When she’d worn a dress to his wine-club meeting, his gaze had lingered a few times.
“Well, maybe he’s into most females. He went into the wine cellar with the orc bouncer, after all. ”
“His tastes are varied, but he will not lust after you.”
“I’d rather he not.”
“You are—”
Mine. That was what she thought he would say, what she wanted him to say, but a delicate throat clearing came from the hallway.
“Sorry to disturb you, Chef,” Gniknik said, “but there are two dwarves here to see—”
“I am not interested in seeing any dwarves,” Jildarin interrupted, frowning toward the hallway. His grip tightened on Rylana’s shoulder, and he drew her closer.
Rylana rested a hand on his chest, feeling his hard pectoral muscles through his chef’s jacket. She wasn’t interested in seeing any dwarves either. She wanted to go wherever Jildarin wanted to take this.
“Uhm, yes, Chef, but they’re actually here for Bookkeeper Rylana. Something about an antique horn that belongs to their king.”