Page 76 of Mystic Justice
Then he put an arm around me and held me as I cried.
Chapter Thirty-Six
I woke to the smell of something delicious. I sat up feeling warm and rested – then winced as I recalled sobbing in the shower with Krieg. I didn’t remember getting out and into bed.
I looked down. I was dressed in one of Krieg’s T-shirts; it fell just above my knee, longer than some of my own nightdresses. There was something nice about wearing his shirt, but I felt like we’d skipped an important step in our relationship. We’d kissed and we were both undoubtedly emotionally invested, but we hadn’t been truly intimate yet.
Gathering my courage, I opened the door and walked out.
Krieg stood shirtless at the hob, flipping French toast, joggers slung low on his hips. My brain short-circuited somewhere between cinnamon and smoulder and I paused to admire the scene. The radio was on low, and Loki was warbling along. The ogre looked as far from deadly as you could get, yet the top of his shoulder still bore a red line from Harbinger’s talons.
‘Hey,’ I said, smiling.
‘Good morning,kaerasta. I hope I didn’t wake you.’
‘No, you didn’t. The food smells delicious, though.’
‘How do you like your French toast? You want icing sugar and berries? Or maybe Nutella and sliced banana?’
‘Both sounds great.’ I sat at my small dining table and watched him. He saw me and sent me a wink then started to dance, hips swaying to the music as he went on cooking for me. The scene was as far from my nightmares as you could get and I was grateful for that. He was trying to make me smile and it was working.
‘Tea?’ he asked.
‘Decaf, Earl Grey please. With milk.’
‘Coming up.’ He flicked on the kettle – and it promptly flicked off. He turned it on again; it turned off. He put his hands on his hips. ‘I’mtryingto take care of her,’ he said to my ghost. This time, it let him put the kettle on. ‘Thank you,’ Krieg groused. Robbie, I realised. He was definitely Robbie, here like this dancing in my kitchen, arguing with my ghost.
Oh man, I was so screwed. I was falling head over heels for this guy. The attraction between us was white hot, but there was something more, something deeper. Something dangerous. A small part of me whispered that it could break me more than anything else that had come before; Sam’s rejection had stung but Robbie’s might well kill me.
‘Hey.’ He slid the food onto the table and passed me my tea. ‘Where did you go?’
I mustered up a smile. ‘Nowhere. It’s fine.’ I tugged at the neck of his T-shirt. ‘I’m wearing your spare duffel-bag T-shirt, aren’t I?’
‘You are.’ He grinned at me. ‘I’m enjoying it immensely.’
‘I’ll give it back, but you’ll smell like a girl for the day.’
He shrugged. ‘I’ll smell likeyouall day, there’s a difference. I’ll just head butt anyone that dares to comment on it.’
I’d seen one of his head butts before and they were bloody. ‘I thought you didn’t like entrails in your hair?’ I teased.
‘I can make exceptions.’
I dug into the French toast and moaned. ‘Oh my god.’ Fat blueberries and juicy raspberries tumbled over golden bread, all covered with the finest dusting of icing sugar. The edges were crisp, the inside soft and custardy, and the sweet-tart burst of fruit made my toes curl. ‘This isn’t breakfast,’ I said, licking icing sugar off my lip. ‘This is a religious experience.’
Robbie grinned. ‘I’m looking forward to pulling lots of “oh my gods” from you.’
‘With food?’
‘That, too.’
He dug into his own pile of food and I closed my eyes to better enjoy mine. When I opened them, his French toast mountain was gone and I gaped at his empty plate. ‘How? How could you possibly eat it that fast?’
‘It’s a skill.’ His soft smile dropped. ‘When you fell asleep in the shower, I dried and dressed you before I put you to bed.’
I gulped a mouthful of tea. I knew what was coming. ‘Yes.’
‘Those scars, Stacy… ’
