Page 131 of Heartsong
“Leave it. Everyone will know you’ve staked your claim.”
She still didn’t quite understand why, but his need to show how he was hers never ceased to please her. Whether it was holding hands or carrying her purse or wearing coordinating colors, he always went out of his way to identify that they were together.
Finally letting her go, he tucked her hand into the crook of his arm and led her out into the attached garage.
Inside were the nondescript but luxury sedan Gavren drove, the hybrid compact SUV Carys drove, and Frey’s biggest purchase: a behemoth of an SUV.
It turned out that the collection, as it should have been, was insured. Carys and Gavren were compensated for the “stolen” statues, but they’d been unsure what to do with the money, feeling it wasn’t theirs to keep or spend. Anna suggested they put it aside for the guardians; so half had been invested for Dragan, for when they would hopefully free him, and the other was given to Frey.
He used the money to purchase his big blue behemoth. It was honestly one of the few vehicles that had fit him comfortably in the lot, and they’d managed to find an electric model that didn’t guzzle gas. Because he didn’t have legal paperwork, Frey had learned to drive with a combination of online classes and lessons from Gavren.
When Anna made a joke about driving with grandpa, Gavren had sniffed and said,“Young lady, I’ve been driving since cars were invented.”Which only really proved her point.
Now, with a fancy fake ID and his own car, Frey drove them around a lot. He quite enjoyed it, and they spent many of their weekends cruising around California. Anna loved being a passenger princess. The SUV was spacious and comfortable, and she had the front passenger side all configured to her. She navigated and sight-saw with glee as Frey drove them around Tiburon or down the coast or into SF.
And she admitted, watching him drive, his wrist resting on the wheel, sunglasses shading his eyes, and his free hand wrapped around her thigh, always got her blood pumping.
Frey opened the door and helped her climb inside. He even held out the seatbelt and buckled her in, making sure to cop a feel the entire way.
Anna giggled and ran her fingers along the sharp edge of his jaw. “Dinner first,” she reminded him.
Frey made a show of grumbling. “This better be good steak.”
It was, in fact, good steak. Overpriced, but still good.
Anna was always happy to have date night at a local diner or family place, and they’d had plenty exploring exhibits or seeing films. Once in a while, though, it was nice to get dolled up and try a place she’d never in her wildest dreams thought about going to before.
And, okay, it was an excuse to see Frey dressed up, too.
The bistro was all warm colors, with deep booths of buttoned dark red suede, tables stained a rich mahogany, drapes of a sumptuous red velvet trimmed in yellow fringe, and vintage chandeliers dripping with crystals and golden light. It gave old art deco speakeasy, which Anna loved.
The booths and chairs were sturdy, a must for any dining gargoyle. Anna had reserved a corner booth, allowing them to sit next to each other rather than across. Frey wasn’t a fan of sitting a table away, especially not while out and about where other people (men) could see them. Even sitting close together, he was always touching her somehow, holding her hand or putting his arm around her or leaning in for a kiss.
If he hadn’t been so handsy himself, she might’ve been a little embarrassed over how much she reached for him, too. From her past relationships, Anna didn’t consider herself a touchy-feely person, but she couldn’t help but reach for him. The way he smiled to see it was its own reward, and his warmth beneath her fingers was always a comfort.
When he reached for her hand on the booth as they sat enjoying the final bites of their meal, she was ready, her fingers sliding into place between his.
“Most excellent,” Frey sighed, leaning back against the booth with a contented pat to his stomach.
Anna hid a grin. She was going to get that catchphrase printed on a mug, T-shirt, everything for his birthday in summer.
He tugged on her hand, coaxing her to join him reclining in the booth, but Anna resisted. He looked at her curiously, but she only arched a brow.
It’s now or never,she told herself, butterflies swirling in her stomach.
“Just going to run to the bathroom,” she explained, slipping out of the booth with her purse.
“Fine,” he huffed, “but hurry back. I’m ordering the chocolate cake.”
She didn’t know how he had room for a heavy chocolate lava cake after the dinner they just ate, but then again, Anna never said no to chocolate—and neither did Frey. They were perfect together.
“Get two forks this time,” she told him.
A feline smirk was her only answer before she weaved through the bistro to the bathrooms at the back. He enjoyed getting only one fork and feeding her dessert. She enjoyed it, too—just not the sounds that came out of her in public when he did.
Inside the bathroom, Anna ducked into one of the stalls, pleased to find it was deep and dark and had an actual door. She wanted a little privacy for this part.
Blushing from her head to her toes, she hung her purse from the door hook and fished out the little toy she’d brought along. Anna had always been a fan of toys and had converted Frey, too. There were times when he just couldn’t wait for her to be as ready as she needed to be, so they used toys to get her there. She’d branched out from her trusty bullet, and now had a new toy to try.
