Chapter 58
RAINE
Irun my fingers through my hair again. This time, the tension of the ponytail holder stops me. I’ve created a rat’s nest on top of my head—something my college roommate called my exam hair.
There’s a warm chuckle from next to my desk.
I pull the tie out and glance up at Kieren, who’s scrunched up in an old chair he plopped down a few days ago.
He’s been bringing his laptop in and quietly sitting with me while I work on the collection.
When I need to move a large painting or open a crate, he bounds up and helps.
I’m not sure if he doesn’t want any of the other staff around me or really enjoys being here.
“What?” I know exactly how I look. My roommate has posted enough pictures of me with my crazy hair that I don’t need a mirror. It takes a few good tugs to get my hair partially smooth. “It helps me think.”
“Pulling your hair helps you think? I’ll make sure to keep that secret from Roark.”
“Thank you.” A quick swirl and I have my hair back on the top of my head. “You’re sure you’re comfortable in that chair?”
“I’m always comfortable around you.” He winks.
If one of my old boyfriends had said that to me, I’d have wondered what he was looking for. But with Kieren, so far, he’s been direct.
“Okay, well, if you’re sure.”
Roark’s curled up against me. Turns out he’s the snuggliest of the snugglers.
It’s night, but my stomach rumbles loudly enough to remind me that I skipped dinner to finish up another crate.
I could lie here and force myself to go back to sleep.
It never works, but maybe this time. I pry Roark’s arm from my hip, slowly.
Trying not to wake him. The chance of actually not waking him?
Less than zero, but a girl’s gotta try. A tiny roll, and I’ve slid off the mattress.
A T-shirt and yoga pants later, I’ve slipped into the hall.
The kitchen’s empty, and moonlight from the garden shines on the stainless-steel counters. I open one of the massive fridges.
“Can I help you?”
I jump. “Oh, Leo, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you. I missed supper, and my stomach is mad enough at me to keep me from sleeping.”
“No need to apologize,” he says and opens the fridge across from the one I was in. “Would you like your dinner, a cheese platter, or”—he smiles at me, his blue eyes twinkling—“a toastie? Grilled cheese, as you call them.”
“Um––”
“Pick what you want, not what you think is the least amount of work,” he says, pulling out two different cheeses from the fridge. Then he retrieves a loaf of homemade sourdough bread from the bread box.
“Toastie, please, since you have the supplies out.” I laugh. Leo knows my affinity for grilled cheese. “Can I help?”
“No, but you can keep me company.”
“My pleasure.” I pull a stool from the other side of the room. “I’ve never seen anyone sit on these before.”
“Neither have I.” Leo’s making quick work of slicing the bread. When the large cast iron griddle is up to temperature, he places four sandwiches on it.
“I’m not sure I could eat two.”
“I know,” Leo says with a smile.
“Your sandwiches are always perfect.”
“It’s the temperature and patience. Start with a warm griddle and turn it down low.”
“True. When I’m making them, I just want food ten minutes ago.”
Leo smiles at me and bustles around. Soon he’s plated my sandwich, cut on the diagonal, with a side of thinly sliced apples, warmed caramel dipping sauce, and a tall glass of lemonade.
He puts a platter of the other sandwiches on the counter next to mine.
“Are you going to join me?”
“No.” Leo washes his hands.
The swinging door creaks. “Duchess, how did you get out of the room?”
“I’m sneaky.”
Leo waves goodbye.
“Thank you, Leo.”
Roark crosses his arms over his chest. “Ohh, toasties,” he says, sounding like a young boy. Which is hard to believe.
I hold the platter up for him to take one. “Do you have grilled cheese in Crest Wing?”
“If we didn’t, do you think it would be worth living there?” He takes a triangle and eats half in one bite.
“Not in my opinion.” I finish off the first half of mine. “Do you miss Crest Wing when you’re here?”
“No. It’s not the same for me as Kieren and Evander.” He points to the bowl of caramel sauce on my plate. “Are you done?”
I hand it to him. “How so?”
“Kieren has his family. Aisling. His parents.” Roark pushes the rest of the sandwich, now dipped in sauce, into his mouth.
Even so, there’s a visceral reaction from him when Kieren’s parents are mentioned.
“And Evander, when we go to Elderglen, it’s .
. . lively. Pleasant even, but don’t tell him I said that.
His mom makes a good beef stew that’s worth the trip alone.
He’s got a huge extended family. There’s music and laughter, so much laughter.
” Roark’s eyes drop to mine from where he was staring at the imaginary scene across the room.
I want to ask about his family. I know his parents are dead. Instead, I pop the last apple slice in my mouth.
He grunts. “I don’t need pity, but I don’t have anyone back there. Not anymore.”
“It’s not pity—but I am sorry about your parents. You must miss your brother.”
“Yes.” He turns from me, and when he turns around again, there’s a tear on his cheek. “He’s not dead.”
“Oh . . . Evander said––”
“Evander doesn’t know. Kieren either. Varek’s alive.
Though he wishes he wasn’t. He’s living on the outskirts of a valley near Elderglen.
I scented him the last time I was visiting with Evander’s family.
He made me promise to never tell anyone he’s still alive.
To think of him as dead. He’s . . . he’s not okay. And I’ve just left him there.”
“He asked you to.”
“If your sister had asked you to leave her in an earthen hut in a land where she had no friends, would you have let her stay? Told no one?”
I bite my lip.
“Exactly, Duchess.”
“Can I give you a hug?”
“Always.”
I squeeze him as tightly as possible and lean back. “You’re respecting his wishes. That doesn’t mean he won’t change his mind.”
“Indeed.” Roark pulls me back to his chest.