Page 17 of Misbehaving With Minotaurs
“Aww…” Iggy’s tone is tender. He glances over the island to Alo and Miriam. “Can we get one?”
Miriam shakes her head. “Kiddo, our house is full of hellhounds right now, and I can already tell they’re going to get into everything. Four doggos is probably enough, don’t you think?”
Iggy scowls and rolls his eyes, peppering Manorin with more questions about the pit hells.
Manorin answers each question carefully until the kitty cat timer dings to let me know the baked penne alla vodka is ready.
I shoo everyone out of the kitchen and toward my small personal dining room just off the kitchen hallway. They flood noisily out of the room as I release a sigh and turn to the oven, grabbing a kitchen mitt.
“How can I help, Cath?”
Manorin’s deep voice wraps tight around my body. I’d swear it was just yesterday he and I dated, because those memories feel so recent, even though there’s a lifetime of experiences and heartaches between then and now.
Opening the oven, I reach in and grab the pasta, setting it on the countertop.
Annabelle opens the fridge and slings a packet of parmesan cheese at Manorin, who easily catches it and unclips the chip clip holding it closed.
He jerks his head at the bubbling dish. “How much?”
“Just spread it all on there while I grab a couple bottles of wine.” I turn and duck down to the wine cooler built into the island, selecting a few reds—a tempranillo and a sangiovese—I think would go nicely with the dish.
When I rise, Manorin’s got the dish in one hand—no potholder to be seen—and he’s smiling pleasantly at me. “I’ll just take this to the table?”
“Yeah…” I trail off as I stare at my only potholder, still sitting on the countertop.
“What?”
I shrug. “I forgot you were so?—”
He takes a step closer. “Strong? Manly? Horribly charming and impossibly attractive?”
Easy laughter tumbles from my throat. “Iwasgoing to say impervious to things like heat, yes, but I suppose you’re most of those other characteristics as well.”
He laughs and turns, heading for the back hallway the dining room’s off of. “Let me give you a view of my back to make sure you’ve nailed down the attractive part.”
He stalks toward the dining room, and, truly, I do stare at his huge figure. He’s stacked with thick muscle, his shirt tight and pants tighter. In the hallway, he has to duck partially sidewaysto get his horns through the arched doorway into the dining room.
I glance up at the Annabelle. “We need to do something about that, darling girl. If he stays and comes for dinner on occasion, I don’t want him to feel uncomfortable.”
I imagine if Manorin chooses Ever, I’ll see him with regularity. He’d want to hang out with the only friend he already knows.
I assume.
Following with the bottles of wine, I join my neighbors and the Hectors at a dinner table already overflowing with charcuterie and snacks.
Morgan groans happily. “You love to overfeed us, Catherine, and I am honestly here for it.”
Thea snort-laughs. “You can work off the calories when you get home. What’s Abe up to tonight? Wouldn’t surprise me if you left him tied up somewhere.”
The triplets laugh together as Manorin watches them, a twinkle in his eye. “You wouldn’t be talking about Abemet Zeniphon, would you? Used to be a damn good skyball player?”
Morgan smiles. “That’s him! He was the Keeper here for a very long time, and he played on the skyball team. Now he’s my full-time stay-at-home mate. I forced him into retirement to serve me.”
Manorin barks out a laugh as Morgan waggles both auburn brows at him. “Somehow I can’t imagine Abemet retired.”
Wren grabs a grape and pops it into her mouth, chewing slowly as Thea pinches Morgan’s side playfully. “That’s ‘cause he’s a full-time daddy.”
Morgan blushes, and I can’t resist the urge to see what Manorin thinks of the triplets’ incredibly straightforward manner.
