12. Chapter 12 Thalmeir #2
"I know your body, Lucien. I’ve been over every inch." She tossed him the trunks. "Go."
He changed behind the curtain and came back out. Liora had installed herself against the rack with her arms crossed under her breasts pushing them up magnificently. She looked him over from waist to hem and back up.
"Turn around," she said.
He turned around.
"Good." She said it to his back. "Those make your ass look great. You're welcome."
"I didn’t ask for swim trunks that make my ass look great. I’m not sure I have ever contemplated the greatness of my ass."
"You should." She was already walking toward the counter with the bikini over her arm. "I'm paying by the way."
"You're not paying."
"Lucien." She stopped and looked back at him over her shoulder.
Her tail swept once behind her. "I picked both items. I have more money than you.
Both of those are facts and you should accept them with grace.
" She adjusted the cuff of her left sleeve, the small habitual gesture.
"Consider it an investment. I'm the one who has to look at you in those trunks all afternoon.
I should at least get to fund the experience. "
The shopkeeper rang them up without comment and folded the items into brown paper. Liora thanked her, tucked the package under one arm, reclaimed Lucien with the other, and walked out. The bell rang behind them as the door shut.
"I'm hungry again," Liora said. They had been walking for thirty seconds.
"You ate a pastry twenty minutes ago."
"That was a snack. Snacks don't count. There's a difference and the difference is portion size." She scanned the street and pointed. "There."
The tavern on the corner had tables under a canvas awning on the street, and a woman in a food-stained apron was wiping down the nearest one. The chalkboard listed fish stew, grilled bread with cheese, roasted vegetables, and something called "the special" without further description.
Liora pulled out a chair before the serving woman finished wiping the table.
"We're sitting outside," she said, as a statement of fact directed at nobody in particular.
She ordered the fish stew and the grilled bread. Lucien ordered the vegetables and the special, which turned out to be a meat pie with a crust thick enough to serve as fortification.
"That pie looks like it was built to withstand a siege," Liora said, leaning forward to inspect his plate.
"It's substantial."
"Substantial is what people say when they're being polite about something ugly.
" She dipped bread into her stew and took a bite.
Her eyes closed for a fraction of a second.
That was the most praise food ever got from her.
"This stew is better than anything the dining hall has ever produced. I'm eating here every Saturday."
"Can I try it?"
She pushed the bowl half an inch toward him. "You may try it. You may not have it. There is a difference."
He tried it. She was right. It was rich and clean and tasted like somebody had cared about its preparation.
"That's good. Fish stew doesn’t sound the most appetizing but I stand corrected," he mumbled around the mouthful.
"Good is insufficient. The word you want is outstanding."
"Outstanding, then."
"There we go. Let me try the ugly pie." She reached across and cut a piece with her fork, chewed it with the concentrated focus she brought to everything she competed in.
"The filling is good. The crust is terrible.
You found a pie with a split personality.
" She took another piece. "I'm taking approximately thirty percent of the filling as a date tax. "
"You're taxing my pie?"
"I'm taxing your pie, your afternoon, and your attention. All three are mine today." She leaned back in her chair and her boot found his ankle under the table. "Be grateful. Most men would kill for a woman who feeds them, dresses them, and only takes thirty percent."
“I won’t disagree. I’m getting used to the idea. However, your flawless beauty makes this so much easier. You must account for that.”
“Flawless? How nice. Are you trying to get in my panties already? The date only just began.”
Lucien choked on a bite of his food then chuckled. “You don’t have a filter today, do you?”
“When do I ever have a filter?”
“That’s true, I suppose.”
“You didn’t answer my question!”
“What question?”
“Are you trying to get into my panties?”
“Oh, that question. Of course. However, I don’t usually have to try very hard.”
Liora’s eyes grew wide and her mouth opened. “You conceited bastard!” Then she tossed her napkin into his face and laughed. “Don’t make me sound like some kind of whore.”
“Will my last statement keep me out of your panties?”
“It just might. The inside of my panties will be determined by the remainder of this date and how you behave.”
They ate. The street drifted past at a Saturday pace. Students moved in pairs toward the market square. Somebody opened the bookshop door and propped it with a crate. The serving woman brought more water without being asked and cleared their bread plates.
Liora finished her stew, ate the last of her bread, took a final piece of his pie filling, and settled back in her chair with the easy satisfaction of a woman who'd gotten everything she ordered and several things she hadn't.
"I like this," she said.
"The stew?"
"The day." She looked at him, gold eyes easy and open. "I like days where the only agenda is mine."
"Every day's agenda is yours."
"True. But today you're not pretending otherwise and I appreciate the honesty." She stretched, arms above her head, and the motion pressed the green fabric against her body. She caught him looking. "See something you like?"
"The awning is very well constructed."
"The awning." Her boot nudged his ankle under the table. "You know, for a man hiding as much power as you are, you are spectacularly bad at pretending not to stare at my chest."
"I wasn't pretending."
"Good answer." She stood and picked up the brown paper package from the empty chair beside her. "Come on. Let's go find the waterfall before the afternoon gets away from us. I want to wear my new bikini and see you in your new trunks."
They left Thalmeir heading south on a trail past a forge built too close to the road.
The heat from its open door washed over them for three steps and was gone.
The last buildings thinned out and the ground began to rise into rolling green, scattered with trees that thickened as the elevation climbed.
"The produce woman said twenty minutes on the south trail," Liora said.
She carried the package under one arm and walked with her free hand resting on his forearm, fingers loose, her thumb tracing absent circles against his sleeve.
"She also said the path gets steep near the end and to watch the footing.
I don't think she was accounting for a demon with enhanced capabilities and whatever you actually are, but I thanked her. "
"Enhanced capabilities? What are these other than… good looks?"
"I held your arm down for four seconds when we arm-wrestled." Her tail brushed his hip as they walked. "And you know what? I'm going to beat you to the water."
"You're not going to beat me to the water."
"I will if I cheat. And I always cheat."
The trail narrowed between the trees. The sound of moving water found them from somewhere uphill, steady and faint. The canopy closed overhead and the air went cooler and green.
Lucien walked beside her. The town and the academy were both behind them now.
Ahead, the trail climbed toward the sound of water, and the brown paper package rustled under Liora's arm when the path jogged left and she bumped against his shoulder, and neither of them corrected the distance. He let her move in front for the sole reason of watching her ass cheeks bounce. Liora knew it but didn’t say anything.