4. Chapter 4 #2
Gods, even now, Rowan noted the pained, forced smile on Milo’s face, which said how much he wished he wasn’t the last of his family.
It made Rowan want to yank Stan to a stop and hug the little mage close.
Rowan, as much as his family aggravated him, would never choose to live a solitary life.
He liked being around his family. Hopefully Milo would, too.
Rowan didn’t know how to express this deep ache inside him, his hurt on Milo’s behalf, but Milo had already pushed them to new topics, asking many questions about Gravegarde and Rowan’s family.
Their conversing passed the time, breaking only for a quick lunch of cold cuts and to let the horses drink.
Perhaps because he’d been so entertained, the miles had flown by, and they’d reached Northgate far faster than he’d anticipated.
It certainly didn’t feel as if they’d traveled all day, but the sun setting in the sky said otherwise.
Northgate was one of the trading towns along the main highway.
They did a fair bit of business and saw many types of people, so just coming into the town meant being hit with a wall of noise.
They had to slow their pace, too, to accommodate the line forming at the gate.
Gate guards efficiently let people pass, and when they got to Rowan, no one needed an introduction.
He was memorable, for one, but he’d also come through this town countless times.
“Hey, Rowan,” one of the guards said with a wave.
He had a prominent stain on his tunic and dust all over his boots, and the crow’s feet around his eyes were pronounced, so this poor man was likely at the end of his shift.
He checked something off on his list, then paused when he realized Milo was with Rowan. “Who’s this?”
“Mage,” Rowan answered succinctly. “Milo Tobitt.”
“Ohh, another one, eh?” The guard looked Milo over dubiously.
Milo stared back in pure challenge. “I’ll have you know I’m not like those other bastards and I actually will do the job.”
The guard’s head reared back for a second in surprise before a grin grew over his craggy face. “Glad to hear it. All right, go on through.”
Rowan led the way.
Being such a heavily traveled place, of course the main road into Northgate had nothing but inns and restaurants along the strip. Stood to reason, really.
“So, honey, is there an inn you like? As in, a place you normally stop?”
“There is,” he confirmed, glancing at Milo. “On the far side of town. A little cheaper. Food’s better.”
“Sounds like the place, then. Are they expecting you?”
“Yes. I told them I’d be back in town around this time.”
“Splendid. Hopefully they have a room for us, then.” Milo’s expression was, well, not innocent, not by any stretch, but his eyes were wide and ingenuous. “Are we going to stop for a certain something before we arrive?”
Oil, he meant. So incorrigible, this one.
Rowan felt a tendril of heat curl in the pit of his groin at the idea of pounding into Milo’s tight ass.
Even last night, he’d been very vocal about his pleasure, which had been such a turn-on.
Rowan had loved driving the little blond straight over the edge.
Looked forward to doing it again. He had three years of abstinence to work out, and he was quite sure Milo would be happy to help.
Milo plotting out the fastest way to get them into a bed secretly delighted Rowan. He’d figure out a way to sneak dinner into their schedule, somehow.
Rowan spotted a mercantile store he’d frequented many a time, riding up to the post and then climbing out of the saddle. “I’ll grab it. Anything else you want?”
“Snacks!”
Rowan raised a brow. “You can’t have eaten all your snacks already.”
“Well, no, but I won’t have enough to last me until tomorrow.”
Did everything he eat go straight to fueling his mouth? It would make a lot of sense, really. “Salty or sweet?”
Milo’s eyes went large and round with wonder. “You’re really going to buy me snacks?”
“Obviously. Salty or sweet?”
For some reason, Milo couldn’t quite seem to meet his eyes. His voice turned softer, almost shyer? “Both. If you don’t mind.”
Rowan really should have expected his answer, but why had Milo turned suddenly shy on him? He didn’t like this hesitant reaction to something so small. It spoke of trouble, but he wasn’t quite sure what to do about it. “All right.”
Going into the slightly dimmer store, lit by a handful of oil lamps, Rowan moved along the shelves, pulling things into his arms. Potato crisps, candies, beef jerky.
Milo hadn’t hinted at being picky about food, and with the way he ate, it was more a question of if the food could run before being consumed.
Hell, food would have to fight back just to have a chance of survival with that bottomless stomach around.
On second thought, Rowan got two of everything.
He, of course, grabbed the oil as well—two bottles, mostly because he had zero restraint around Milo and didn’t expect that to change—and was all set to go to the counter and check out when his eyes landed on a few things.
Namely, cloaks, hats, scarves, and a small selection of gloves tucked into a display in the corner.