Chapter 2
Beck
The aroma of freshly baked bread fills my kitchen as I open the oven to take my focaccia out. Carefully placing the bread on a wire rack to cool, I sneak a quick peek out my cottage’s window before grabbing some supplies from the fridge to start on the charcuterie board for our boys’ game night.
My old stone mill cottage is strategically located on the northern edge of the island, giving me a clear view of anyone approaching from the mainland.
It would take me less than two seconds to dive into the ocean and shift into my dragon form to protect Starry Hill from any threats, though that has never been needed in the fourteen years I’ve called this island home.
Hands filled with all the snacks I got from The Winged Apple—per Pierre’s suggestion as well as numerous hours of research—I pause in front of the window for the umpteenth time, my eyes raking over the dark blue water in the distance, my ears straining for any familiar sounds of Viggo’s boat.
“Why do you keep looking out the window?” Ren asks, taking up position next to me as he also rakes his gaze over the same patch of ocean.
It’s been three months since I saw Nori—Eleanor—in Cape Easton harbor, but I’ve thought about her every single day since.
Eleanor has always been pretty, but the woman who stood in front of me that day was breathtakingly beautiful.
She has a body sculpted by the gods, voluptuous feminine curves hiding underneath formal office wear.
At night when I’m alone in bed, I like to imagine what she really looks like underneath it all, wondering if her skin would feel as soft as it looks under my exploring fingers and worshipful mouth.
But I’m still angry at myself for how poorly I handled our meeting, my dragon sharing the sentiment by remaining quiet, withdrawn, except for when we swim in my shifted form.
That day, my brain filled with a million things I wanted to tell her, but the more thoughts entered my mind, the less I was able to verbalize them, the words getting jumbled in my throat, each thought competing for dominance, until all I could offer her was my fraught silence.
Placing the supplies on the counter, I organize them by importance while I search for an explanation to give Ren, wanting to stay as close to the truth as possible without being completely transparent.
“I’m looking out for Viggo. He should be arriving anytime soon.
He’s bringing Audrey and Eleanor with him and Juniper,” I state factually, feeling a little proud of myself at the smooth cover.
Ren leans against my counter, propping one hand behind him as he watches me with a curious gaze, his long red tail resting against his leg. “Maisie mentioned Eleanor is coming. She’s been incredibly helpful with getting all the paperwork for the cakery aboveboard.”
My entire body stills as I glance at Ren. “Are Maisie and Eleanor friends?”
Ren’s brows draw together and he quirks his head to the side. “I think so. Why?”
“Would Eleanor come visit Maisie after she doesn’t need her help anymore?” I ask flatly, not wanting them to take advantage of her and discard her when she’s no longer useful to them.
“I hope so, yes,” Ren answers carefully, studying my face keenly as he straightens up.
“I mean, the ladies invited her tonight and that has nothing to do with work.” Before I can throw out another question, Ren’s mouth tilts into a tender grin that’s reserved for anything to do with Maisie.
“And you know my Maisie. She’s already compiled a list of everything she wants to make for Eleanor.
Besides, the treats she made for The Singing Seahorse tonight were inspired by Eleanor’s favorite flavors. ”
Relief seeps through my bones on a tangible wave, my dragon sending scales flickering in their wake down my spine, as a small smile perches on my lips. “Yeah, what cake does she like?”
Ren pops his hands into his hoodie’s pockets and arches a brow. “Why do you want to know?”
“I—”
“You?” Ren prods gently.
“I just want you guys to be nice to her,” I explain lamely, focusing my attention back on the charcuterie board in the hopes that the inquisition ends there.
Ren straightens up, his eyes widening as he stares at me. “Wait. How do you know Eleanor?”
“Bodin is here,” I sputter, turning on my heel and heading to the door to welcome my second guest to arrive.
I’m not quite sure how much I want to tell anyone about Eleanor, I hardly speak about my time before Starry Hill, but I grab the excuse to pivot away from the conversation like it’s a lifeline thrown by fate herself.
Nearly a head taller than me, my orc friend fills the door, his smile warm as he clasps my shoulder in a friendly greeting. “Beck, so kind of you to host our first game night. I brought some Berserker Brown Ale for us to enjoy,” Bodin says, gesturing to the oak keg under his arm.
“It is my pleasure,” I say as I usher him inside, one eye still trained on the window on the opposite wall.
“And thank you for bringing the beer. I’ve prepared some bread and light snacks.
Ren brought tangerines and some kind of cake that Maisie made.
” Guilt claws at me for condensing Maisie’s incredible baking skills to such a poor explanation, but my mind is still preoccupied by Eleanor’s imminent arrival.
Bodin clasps Ren’s hand and pulls him into a hug before placing the keg in the kitchen. “I spoke to Arran earlier. He said he’ll be here after sundown. He’s running low on vampire sunscreen and wants to save what he has for a ‘special occasion,’ even though Tilly told him that she’s ordered more.”
Feeling that the focaccia has cooled enough, I place it on my wooden cutting board as I say over my shoulder, “Arran’s always been mindful with how he spends money, so it makes sense for him to time his excursions when it’s least burdensome to him or others.”
There’s a small pause before Bodin remarks, “That’s very observant of you, Beck.”
“Here comes Viggo,” Ren says, pointing out the window facing the ocean.
I force my feet to stay put, casually lifting my head to peer over Ren’s shoulder. Bodin flanks Ren, effectively blocking my view, before I reluctantly join them so I can also watch Viggo steer his boat toward the dock, instantly spotting Eleanor’s bright hair among the others.
My heart pounds a rapid staccato in my chest and I force long, slow breaths through my nose in an effort to disguise the nerves coursing through my body, feeling woefully underprepared to see Eleanor again after she’s occupied most of my thoughts for months.
“Is that Eleanor with Juniper and Audrey?” Bodin asks.
“Yes.” My voice is even. Controlled. Unaffected.
“She’s pretty,” Bodin says, stating the obvious.
“You’re married,” I remind him, my dragon now fully awake and narrowing his eyes at Bodin.
Ren shifts his focus away from the window and turns toward me.
“Do you know Eleanor, or did she just make that much of an impression on you? It seems like there’s something more there than a simple ride to the island.
” There’s a depth of compassion in his tone as he tries to coax a real answer from me, effectively lowering my walls.
Feeling safe between my friends, I stare longingly at Eleanor as she disembarks, her long vibrant hair dancing with little flames from the rays of the setting sun behind her.
“Growing up, she was my best friend, my absolute favorite person. But we were children then, and I’ve not seen her until that day I brought her here for Maisie. ”
“Go talk to her!” Ren encourages, excitement trickling into his voice.
“I’m scared,” I admit softly, admiring how beautiful she looks in a soft blue shirt that highlights her best features. She’s even more stunning than the images I conjured in my head late at night.
“Of what?” Bodin asks, laying a hand on my shoulder. “You’ll never know anything unless you try.”
“I’m scared we’ve changed too much since then and maybe she wouldn’t like who I am now.” Or maybe she won’t forgive me for how I left, I add silently.
“Bullshit,” Bodin says with a laugh. “Never assume anything. Pull on your big boy pants and go have a conversation with her. But first, let her go enjoy her time with the girls while we get some liquid courage in you.”
“Okay. I can do that.” I don’t know if I’m convincing them or myself, but my dragon echoes the sentiment, both of us adamant to at least try this time.