Chapter Eleven Lover #2
“They’re precious metals.” Gordon looks at me, hands twisting a bagel to crumbs. “Do you like them? I can return them if you don’t.”
“I love them. They’re so beautiful. But you... But this is jewelry.”
“Captain Sunderland told me precious metals come after flowers,” he chokes out. “Oh. Do you have a broom?” He looks down, suddenly aware of the pile of crumbs on his plate and spilling onto the floor.
“I do, but don’t worry about that! They’re too much.”
Gordon is too much. For a guy who thinks he’s got to move with quiet, hesitant strides, he’s breaching my heart with the force of a tank.
The way he took care of me. The way he fed Chopin.
The thoughtful things he does, and how he’s so determined to do his best...
“I love them. Thank you.” I rise, wincing at the burnt edges of my feet and toes as they grip and flex to stand, and lean over the table to kiss my boyfriend.
“My amazing boyfriend,” I whisper, caressing his face.
“My... Do I get to call you girlfriend? Out loud?” Gordon whispers back, our lips still inches apart.
Only by sheer force of will do I not laugh at the sweetest, most timid question. “Yep. It’s a two-way street. I really, really like it when you call me that.”
“I never thought I would have a girlfriend at all, let alone such an amazing one. Such a beautiful one.” Gordon kisses me, sighs, and strokes my hair, smile fading when he finds some remaining crispy spots near the front.
“I took off three days to take care of you. If your feet and hand feel better sooner, we can go to the lake. Fish. Go to my cabin. Cook on a campfire—or not. No, probably not. But we can catch fish and cook them on the stove.”
“It sounds amazing. And all these people in town are spoiling you with goodies? I don’t even know if we’ll need to catch fish, which is good, because I haven’t fished for anything except minnows with a kiddie pole when I was a kid,” I laugh.
“It wasn’t just for me. It was for you. They know I’m not hurt. They were worried about you.”
“Me? But... But I don’t have friends or family here, I—”
“You are part of the town. You teach the children. These people trust you with their children.” Gordon gently pushes me back into my seat and pokes around in the kitchen until he finds a broom in the corner by the fridge.
“You don’t know this—but you will, soon.
You will see it now, now that your eyes are opened to the paranormal world around you.
” Gordon speaks while sweeping up the crumbs and clearing the bagel destruction on the table.
“You’ll see some children that are not purely human.
Their families have the chance to send them to schools in Pine Ridge because they believe you will keep them safe, and that...
That is very precious. There are some people...
My people, whose numbers are dwindling every year.
You were busy all year, my Andrea. You didn’t see how many people would befriend you purely for the sake of their children—and then fall in love with you because of who you are.
” He clears his throat. “That’s how I began.
I thought of how fortunate the children were to have you.
To have a chance to learn with beauty and kindness.
” He smiles suddenly, and my heart melts.
“Then I spent just a few moments with you, and I was lost.”
I don’t know what to say. Praise wasn’t a frequent thing in my house.
Love, sure. Family and friends being in your business, and nagging and cooking as a form of caring?
Absolutely. It’s always a double-edged sword, though, like a bowl of arroz caldo along with a lecture on being careless and going outside without a sweater or wet hair.
Praise? Rare. Precious.
Praise from the normally silent Gordon? That’s right up there with a compliment from my mother. I have the feeling that he’d like to keep talking, but he’s not sure how to navigate that.
“Was that wrong?” Gordon asks.
I love that he asks, instead of guessing. “It was perfect. I’m just speechless. Wait, the earrings, though? They’re from you?”
“Yes, but the jeweler, Mr. Stilz, was very worried about you. He made those for you, on the spot. I told him about you, and he offered to make them into tiny pianos. I liked these better, and I told him I was in a hurry to get back.”
“Wait, he made these? In the shop in town?” I turn the earrings over. I expected them to be made in some factory somewhere.
“Oh, he’s a poppart. He can manipulate gold and silver, and other metals.”
“He’s a what?” All I can picture is a breakfast pastry with icing and sprinkles.
“A poppart. Type of goblin. He made them, just for you. I mean, for you, but because of me. Eat while the food is still warm,” Gordon concludes.
I put the earrings in my ears, watching Gordon look at me while I do so.
I’m not exactly sure what to call the look he’s giving me, but it’s empowering as heck. A blend of love, longing, and fascination. “I’ll have to stop in and thank him. But I’ll thank you, first,” I purr, and oops, there’s a sultry hint in my tone.
Gordon notices it, and his fork clatters onto the plate next to his quiche. “I don’t need to be thanked.”
“I might want to thank you.”
“Well, you just did. You’re welcome. Uh.
Yes! Yes, you should go into town and see Mr. Stilz and his store.
You’d be amazed at all the little shops that exist in just about six blocks.
The Pine Loft is just a little ways down from the jewelry store, and Madge’s Magic is just in the next street, and—”
“It’s a tiny town. I know. Hence the boredom.”
“No. Hence the chance to make this tiny town your town. You just have to try. This summer—you have time.”
“Hm. Maybe I do. But I’m still going to make time for dates with my boyfriend.”
“That’s absolutely necessary. How often do dates occur?”
“Oh... I don’t know. Once or twice a week at first.”
“Then more?” Gordon studies me like every word is being saved in an internal sacred scroll.
“No. Usually less.”
“What?” Gordon’s face is indignant. “Less! But I would want you more. Don’t dating people become married people at some point? Then they live together.”
“Yeah, sometimes. But dates, like going out, and making special time to be together, get rarer. Like, my parents went out three times a year. My mom’s birthday, my dad’s birthday, and their anniversary.
That was it.” I don’t dare ask about his parents, but I’m curious. “Troll dating? What’s that like?”
Gordon takes a bite of quiche, which means half the slice disappears into his wide mouth in one bite.
“A male brings kills to the female until she accepts them and goes back to his home with him to be his mate and the mother to their children. Another male can fight for her until she’s safely in the first suitor’s home. ”
“Ah. Not big on concerts and stuff?”
“No.”
“Dating is nice.” I sip my soup and then take a Tylenol.
Gordon notices and quickly unscrews the balm in the blue jar, taking my burnt hand in his and smearing the cream on.
It sinks in instantly, and the room smells like lavender heaven.
“But being together with the person you love is the best. Being at home together can be just as exciting as a date—if it’s the right person,” I say, trying to keep my voice steady.
I didn’t believe that until Gordon. I didn’t believe that at all.
Now? I think I would trade every concert ticket or vacation in the world to sit this close to him and feel his hand tending to mine, to hear the way his breath catches when I look at him.
To feel the way his body shifts when our knees touch.
“You like to go out and do things. I will make sure that we do that many times a week,” Gordon vows, voice tight.
“Thank you. Do you like staying in?”
He shrugs. “I like being with you.”
Simple. True.
Heart melting exponentially increasing. “I want to be where you are, Gordon. I like you. I like bowling, and going to the Night Market, and watching fireworks... But I wouldn’t have wanted to do those things without you. You made it fun. You make me happy.”
This time, Gordon is the one who leans in and kisses me, one cheek, my nose, the other, and then my lips. “We will go out and stay in together. Several times a week?”
I nod. I’d like to say, “No. All the days of the week. Every. Single. Day.
And double down on the nights.
I don’t say that. Guys would think that’s clingy, right?
“At what point does the dating go from several nights to every night? Is that... Is that before or after humans marry? I’m only asking because I don’t know.
I’ve watched movies and television shows, of course, but there’s no clear plan that the shows follow.
I know many married couples and a few dating couples, too, and they are all different, and many of them are made up of monsters marrying humans.
Like the gargoyles you met. One was married by accident to a human, and the other is living with a human whom he hopes to wed, but has not yet wed. ”
“Dude, humans are confusing,” I commiserate. “Accidentally married?”
“Oh, that is a long story. And I don’t know it. I don’t pay attention to many people.”
I laugh out loud at that. “I love you. You’re so honest.”
Gordon drops his spoon this time. His creamy tomato soup splatters, and Chopin races to lick the floor. “You love me?” Gordon gasps.
I open my mouth, panicking and backpedaling internally. I meant I loved that about him. I love so many things about him. I’m... I’m not sure what I’m supposed to do, but Gordon is honest, even when he’s unsure, and so I suck in a deep breath and follow his lead. One word. “Yes.”
“We... We would stay together, then. For all of our days and nights. Inside or out ‘dating.’”
“Yep.”