Page 206 of Flirting with Darkness

The way his eyebrows peaked together, I believed him.

34

BREAKFAST

Iwoke in our bed to birdsong and… my hand slid across the sheets—the cold, empty sheets. I bolted upright. Other than the wrinkled bedding there was no sign of him. My heart thudded, a dull ache that drove my gaze around the room.

His trousers from last night lay crumpled on the floor, discarded with my shredded dress. So I hadn’t imagined all that. No, my body ached too sweetly for that to have been a dream or fantasy.

I followed the trail of my memories from last night, which were admittedly a little blurry after we’d made love in the courtyard. He’d carried me to bed as I drifted in and out of sleep. I’d been blanketed in a haze of bliss, and it had felt even better to be looked after. I could get used to that.

Back here, he’d peeled off the ruins of my gown, touch firm and lingering as he dried me off before carrying me to bed, where I fell asleep tucked against his chest.

That was another thing I could get used to.

Exhaling, I rubbed my face and forced out a short laugh at myself. All these years, I’d avoided complications with my lovers, all too often being the one who thanked them for a great night and slipped from bed. It had driven some of them to madness, waiting outside the house and other such nonsense.

But now I’d found someone I didn’t want to say goodbye to, and it had mademeirrational, albeit for a moment, thinking he’d left me.

I am yours.

No, he wasn’t the leaving type.

Sure enough, a moment later, House swung the door open and in strode Faolán, huge hands clamped around a massive tray of food. He also carried in the scent of a cooked breakfast, making my mouth water.

“You’re awake.” He beamed, white teeth showing through his beard, which he hadn’t shaven off yet.

I liked that he hadn’t rushed to strip it away. Clean-shaven Faolán wasn’t my favourite. This one, a little more relaxed, a lot more himself—this was my favourite version of him.

Tilting my head, I gave him a bashful smile. “For a moment I thought you’d left me.”

He snorted and brought the tray over. “Never.” He paused, sitting on the end of the bed, gaze on me.

It was a look that became heavier the longer I held it. He really meant never. Maybe what he felt for me wasn’t something that would fade or get distracted or become divided between too many. My heart twisted, a crumpling pain in my chest.

Not like Ma and Pa’s love and attention when my brothers and sisters had come along.

It was a stupid thing to be hurt by. An unfair fleck of resentment that clung to me, like flour in my hair. But there it was.

I loved all my family, dearly. I missed them. Much as House had given me space, it felt quiet without them. And although I wanted to stay with Faolán, I also wanted to at least visit home and introduce him to them all and laugh as Peony and Rory clambered all over him like he was a great tree for them to climb and conquer.

Of coursemy parents had split their time and attention between us all as our numbers had grown. I didn’t begrudge them that, not seriously, but it left me… a little hollow, a little wanting—hells, a lot wanting.

And when I’d seen Ari and Ly and that look they shared. I understood now—thatwas what I’d spent those years wanting.

It wasn’t a million miles away from the look Faolán was giving me now.

“What’s wrong?” His voice was a soft rumble in the quiet.

Cheeks warm, I shook my head, and grabbed a slice of buttered toast from the tray. “You know you could’ve just asked House to bring this up.”

He looked away, and I could’ve sworn I caught a pink flush above his beard. “I wanted to make it for you.”

“Youmadeall this?” I blinked and reevaluated the crispy bacon, the overflowing rack of toast, the herb-flecked mushrooms, the eggs scrambled and taken off the heat while they were still just a little gooey, and especially the sausages that were just the perfect shade of dark brown with crispy skin.

He shrugged, but I spotted the flicker of pleasure or pride that pulled on his lips. “On the road there isn’t usually a house to cook for you.”

I chuckled and finished my toast, but my gaze snagged on something else on the tray. Next to the round teapot and tall coffee pot sat a steaming mug, its herbal scent unmistakable. The preventative.

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