Page 122 of The Lost Art of Finding Where You Belong

It was summer, and they were keeping themselves plenty warm in bed as it was.

Perian shook his head.

“So… why did we get a blanket?” Brannal asked.

Perian was trying—and failing—not to grin like an idiot.

“Guess why,” he instructed. “Come on, you know this.”

“So… we can have sex on the floor?”

Perian laughed. “Nope. Well, not entirely. Come on, why do I have blankets?”

“Why do you—” Brannal’s eyes suddenly lit up, and he looked at Perian with surprise. “A picnic?”

“Surprise!” he exclaimed. “I don’t get to have a lot of lunches with you. I love my picnics with Renny, but I’d really like to have a picnic with you. Would you like that?”

Brannal came over to press a kiss to his lips that got a bit heated, trapping the blanket between them.

“I would love to,” Brannal told him.

Perian knew this didn’t actually count as a big gift. He was borrowing a blanket, and the food was already being paid for by Brannal. But he hoped the gesture showed his gratitude and appreciation.

They dressed fully and then headed down to the kitchen, where they were presented with a heaping basket, which Brannal insisted on carrying.

“You have the blanket.”

Since it was so nice to watch Brannal with his muscles bulging as he carried what really did look like an overflowing basket, Perian decided that he wouldn’t argue and would just ogle to his heart’s content.

They stopped by the stables to check on the horses. One of the stable hands came by to assure them the horses were being well cared for, though Perian could see that already, and then one of the servers rushed out of the inn with a container of jam, blushing and handing it to Perian and saying she’d forgotten to pack it earlier, and they couldn’t have the fresh bread without jam, now could they?

Perian noted the way her eyes strayed to the stable hand and how the stable hand’s eyes strayed back while they both tried to pretend they weren’t looking at one another.

Perian took the jam and thanked the server and watched her hurry back inside with a last lingering look. He looked at the bashful stable hand who was staring at the jam like it was the answer to the most important question in the world.

“Honey,” Perian said.

Brannal and the stable hand looked at him with confusion.

“I prefer honey on my bread rather than jam, although this looks lovely.” He addressed the stable hand. “I don’t suppose you could run inside and get me some honey? I would enjoy the bread so much more. But if you could just be sure to tell the server that Brannal is very excited by the jam—I wouldn’t want her to think we aren’t going to enjoy it when she was so thoughtful to bring it out.”

The stable hand was already nodding, eyes wide.

“Yes,” they assured him. “I’ll do that. I’ll be right back!”

“Take your time,” Perian assured them. “We should really spend a few minutes with the horses.”

The stable hand rushed into the inn, and Brannal shot him a bemused expression. “You can’t help yourself, can you?”

Perian made a face. “Not really? They’re just so sweet, but if left to their own devices, they might never act on it. Maybe a little nudge is all they need.”

Brannal still looked amused. “We haven’t seen them for more than two minutes.”

Perian shrugged. “Some things are really obvious.”

Brannal laughed a little. “Not to all of us.”

Perian stared at him. “Really? You couldn’t tell?”

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