16. Chapter 16
Arlo
“Why hadn’t I noticed your scars before?” Gunnar asks as we walk the streets of the little village we’re doing our shopping in. “If you don’t mind my asking.”
I was surprised to find I didn’t mind. “I spelled them with a glamour, much like I did my scent when we first met. If I expend too much magic, like I did in the barn, then I have none left to power even simple spells.”
His eyebrows knit together. “Doesn’t that require concentration? Or however magic works for your people?”
My lips lift in a smile. “Oh, hardly. If I were an amateur witch, I might get a slight headache. For a witch of my skill and talent, it takes about as much mental strength as holding a feather.”
“Very modest,” he says with a chuckle, giving my hand a squeeze. He hasn’t let go since we left the car, and I don’t want him to.
“Modesty,” I say with a sniff, “is for the weak.”
A pleasant silence settles over us as we walk streets of old red-brick buildings and cobblestone roads.
Something has shifted between us. Gunnar was a witness to the weakest parts of myself.
I’ve never wanted anyone to see me as anything less than the confident, flamboyant image I project, but he saw all my shame and trauma—and he stayed and held me through it all.
A lump rises in my throat, and I squeeze his hand.
“Can you let your shields down?” Gunnar asks.
I tense, frowning. “I have them up?” For years I’ve kept my scent locked down so shifters couldn’t use it against me. That way, I’d know if they tried to trick me with some nonsense about my scent. It’s become such a habit, I’ve maintained it without even realizing.
“Aye. You don’t have to. Just… I miss your scent.”
My throat tightens. Scent gives so much away. A shifter can sniff out every emotion through scent alone. Letting someone know so much about me is something I’ve struggled with for years. It terrified me. Still does, a little.
But I trust Gunnar. Taking a breath, I exhale and lower my shields. Beside me, Gunnar breathes deeply and sighs softly. “There it is.”
A smile curls my mouth. “Smell good?”
A low, pleased rumble rolls around in his chest. “Like the sea.”
I wrinkle my nose. “So salty and a bit fishy?”
Gunnar rolls his eyes so far back in his head, it’s a wonder they don’t go tumbling down the road behind us.
“No! Well, mayhap, aye. But in the best way. If I close my eyes…” He does so, smile widening as his nostrils flare.
“It’s like I’m on my ship. Listening to the gulls cry. The horizon stretched out before me.”
He could be lying, whispers that little frightened voice.
But I know he isn’t. I’ve seen what the ocean means to him. How happy he is when he’s out at sea. “You really mean that,” I say, softer than I intend to. I’d known from the start we were fated to be together when my magic had reached for him. Still, it’s another thing to hear it from his own lips.
This is no lie, not this time.
We really are…
Giving my hand a slight tug, Gunnar takes me aside and presses my back against the brick wall of a shop beside us.
A coffee shop, by the scent wafting out the door.
His big calloused palm rasps over my cheek.
A shiver runs down my spine and I lean into his touch before I can stop myself.
I feel like a touch-starved little kitten.
“Do I need to show you just how sincere I really am? Here, now?” His breath warms my lips, making my eyes close and my breath catch.
I make myself smirk, trying to project confidence, when really, I want to beg him for more. “I don’t know. Maybe.”
“Later, little witch,” he murmurs, “I’ll show you just how sincere I truly am when I worship every perfect inch of your body.
For now, though…” Warm lips seal over mine and I can’t help but whimper at how good it feels.
Goddess, but this man can kiss. It’s toe-curling, all-consuming, yet so tender.
I could kiss him for hours and still yearn for more.
“Keep this up,” I warn him, giving his bottom lip a nibble, “and everyone around us will see just how much I want you.”
He chuckles, eyes glinting with mischief. “And that would be a bad thing?”
Snorting, I shove his chest and lead the way back up the road. Once we reach the bakery, I knock on the door, and a woman with a sleek blonde ponytail welcomes us inside. “Come in, come in! Welcome.”
Cakes and cookies fill the displays, and although we ate not long ago, my stomach gurgles. Gunnar hums, eyes closed as he sniffs the air. “Can we get all of these?”
I elbow him. “No. Goddess! Think of the cavities—the damage the sugar will do to our teeth,” I add when he looks confused.
“I never said we’d eat all of it.”
“I would!”
Laughing, Gunnar puts his arm around my shoulders, and we follow our host, Terra, to a table by the windows.
“Congratulations on your upcoming wedding, gentlemen,” she says with a big smile.
She sets a tray down on the table, displaying six plates of different varieties of cake and several dishes of frostings and fillings.
We eat our way through a few flavors while Terra gives her opinion on cake and frosting combinations. My favorite right at the start is the coconut cake, but Gunnar makes a face. “The cake itself is good, but I don’t like these little shavings.”
“Why not?”
He grimaces. “Too much chewing involved. Could we remove those? We could have these instead.” He points to a bowl of rainbow sprinkles.
“I don’t think those go with the coconut cake.”
“So? They taste better.”
“But it will look silly!”
He frowns. “Who cares? Silly doesn’t have a taste.”
Terra adds, “We have different colors available. I could do white sprinkles so they blend with the frosting.”
“I don’t know… sprinkles on a wedding cake feels so tacky,” I admit. “And, oh damn. I just remembered my aunt is allergic to coconut.”
Terra makes a note of that.
“Convenient,” Gunnar says with a huff.
“It’s true,” I insist. Now I’m worried that I’m forgetting someone’s allergies. “Let’s go with chocolate then. You liked that one, didn’t you?”
“Too chocolaty.”
Oh goddess, we’re going to be here a while.
“How about the vanilla?” It’s hard to go wrong with plain old vanilla.
“It was good, aye.”
“Then we can alternate. One layer vanilla, the other chocolate.”
Gunnar purses his lips. Oh goddess, just decide. “What kind of frosting?”
“Vanilla for vanilla, chocolate for chocolate, or we can alternate per layer.” There, simple.
Gunnar runs a hand through his beard, and a muscle ticks in my jaw. “No chocolate.”
I stifle a groan. “Do couples break up during these tastings?”
Terra smiles. “That’s never been my experience, no.”
“Well, allow us to be your first.”
Gunnar glares at me. “Just vanilla.”
I’m going to scream. “But that’s so boring!”
Terra checks her phone. “We’re out of time, unfortunately, but you’re welcome to stay. Once you’ve made up your minds, please fill out the form.”
“See,” I grumble as she walks away. “Even she got sick of our nonsense. How about… er… vanilla cake with the lemon zest and curd?” Actually, lemon cake sounds divine.
“Which one was that?”
I point to the dishes on the far left.
Gunnar grabs a spoonful, sniffs it, and gags. “Ugh! It stings my nose.”
“What are you talking about?” I give the dish of lemon curd a sniff. It smells delicious to me, but Gunnar’s eyes are watering. “Oh. Wait, don’t cats and dogs hate citrus?” I swear I’d read something like that. A grin spreads over my face. “Aww, poor puppy doesn’t like the smell of citrus.”
Gunnar growls at me. Then he grabs a handful of the lemon cake slice and smashes it into my face. I’m too stunned to even speak. Gunnar leans back in his chair, grinning. “Still like the smell of it now?”
This utter arsehole!
“You… you cunt!” I grab a napkin and rub it through the mess on my face. “The zest could have gone in my bloody eye, you prick!”
Gunnar doubles over, howling, and damn it, I am not going to laugh! This isn’t funny. It’s not funny at all!
I snatch up a plate of chocolate and mash the cake into his face. Gunnar grunts in disgust.
Wait. Oh shit. “Wait, don’t eat any of it! It’s chocolate. It’s toxic!” Sure, he’d tried some before, but that had just been a nibble. I’d practically shoved poison down my fiancé’s throat!
Gunnar suddenly grabs his neck and starts choking.
Oh goddess, no!
“Gunnar! Hold on!”
He topples from his chair and starts twitching. Oh, no, no, no!
I drop to my knees, phone in hand, as I dial 999. “Gunnar, I’m so sorry!”
Damn it, why is it taking so long for the call to connect?
Gunnar makes a horrible wheezing sound, and I realize the fucker is laughing.
I end the call, throw down my phone, and slump, exhaling in relief. “You are such an arsehole.”
Laughing, Gunnar grabs the collar of my sweater and tugs me down into a kiss that tastes like chocolate and lemons. It’s a combination that’s unconventional, and yet… I break the kiss and eat a clump of cake off Gunnar’s cheek. “Taste that? The way the lemon cuts through the dark chocolate?”
Gunnar licks my cheek, smacking his lips. “Aye. The citrus doesn’t taste nearly as bad. Nor does the chocolate.”
I run my tongue along the corner of his mouth, humming at the taste. “We could go a little sweeter. White chocolate with lemon.”
Gunnar frowns thoughtfully. “I think I preferred the white chocolate.” He kisses along my jaw, licking and sucking at the frosting on my skin. I bite my lip, closing my eyes to savor how sweet his lips feel against my skin.
“I think we’ve found our cake.” I swipe some frosting off the tip of his nose and lick my finger clean.
Gunnar beams up at me. “I think so, too.” He pulls me down into a chocolaty, zesty kiss, rumbling approvingly when he sucks on my tongue. “The chocolate tastes good on you.”
“Lemon suits you,” I remark, rolling my hips against the erection tightening his pants. “You’re just sweet enough to temper all your sour.”