Page 13 of Made

“Phone.”

“Oh.”

Kagan frowned. “Why do you say that?”

“What?”

Kagan gritted his teeth. “Oh.”

Keir hadn’t intended to aggravate Kagan more. “So, she called you and said she doesn’t want to seeyou anymore. And you didn’t say anything?” Kagan nodded. “How did the conversation end then? You went mute, so she just hung up?”

Again, Kagan’s chin jerked upward.

“Hmmm,” Keir said without looking up as he concentrated on untying a knot in his line.

After some time had passed, Kagan broke the silence, hating that he was again forced to ask, “What does that mean?”

Keir was so caught up in the busywork of pulling at knots that he’d forgotten he’d left a provocative “hmmm” hanging in the air. “What?”

“Hmmm! You said hmmm!” Kagan sounded as irritated as he felt. He’d already answered a month’s worth of questions in a half-hour’s time and spoken his entire ration of words for the week.

“Oh. It’s nothing if you were ready to end the relationship.”

Kagan’s brow wrinkled as his cast arced in a perfect loop once again. Keir knew his brother well enough to know the best plan was to remain silent while Kagan thought through the implications and ramifications. When Kagan broke the silence, it was to ask, “What if I was no’?”

Keir turned his body away to hide his smile. When he turned back, features sober as a judge, he said, “If ending things wasn’t what you wanted, you might ask her why?”

“What good would that do? If she does no’ want me, she does no’ want me.”

“Well…”

Again, Keir let that hang in the air until Kagan’s curiosity got the better of him. With clear frustration, he said, “What do you mean ‘well’? ‘Well’ does no’ mean anythin’. You’re tryin’ to annoy me.”

“Well…”

Kagan threw his rod down in disgust. “Great gryphon! Youarethe most annoyin’ of us.”

Keir had to exercise some discipline to keep a muzzle on his laughter. “In fairness, brother, you are easily annoyed.” Kagan grunted in disgust. “I just mean to say that interactions with the opposite sex aren’t always what they seem. Females are complex creatures, often tricky.”

“Tricky?” Kagan sounded like he was taking exception to that. He shook his head. “Esme’s no’ tricky.”

Keir suppressed the splutter that tried to erupt. In his estimation, tricky defined Esme. For gods’ sakes, she was trickier than Loki. He could only surmise that either she didn’t show that side of herself to Kagan, or that Kagan was too much in love to see it. He decided a little diplomacy was the order of the day.

“Perhaps not. But you deserve to know why. Don’t you?”

Kagan looked down at his rod lying in the clear running water. “Aye.”

“So, be the male I know you to be and ask her outright. Face to face.”

What red-blooded lion would shrink from a challenge like that?

Kagan bent and pulled his rod from the bubbling water. The line was a mass of tangles. He didn’t bother trying to sort it out. He simply dropped it on the ground and began stomping uphill, presumably toward wherever he’d left his seldom-used phone.

Keir sat down on the riverbank and took time to simply relish the gorgeous day. It was cool, but he wasn’t bothered by that. He took time to listen to birds, running water, and the rhythmic heartbeat of the earth beneath his body. It was a rare gem of a moment. There was nowhere he needed to be other than where he was, and life felt good.

In a third of an hour, Kagan ambled down the steep hill and sat on the grass next to Keir.

“Well?” Keir asked.

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