Page 29 of Enticing the Elf
The calm wayEoin handled the list—I refuse to call it the Summit of Love, no matter how much Alistair begs—is still weighing on my mind when I get home. Leaving the door ajar for Eoin, who’s parking his car out front even though I suggested that he might want to be alone tonight to think about everything, I walk over to my couch and belly flop onto it.
Tonight was… surreal. I grew up in a community with a lot of dragons, and obviously I’ve spent a lot of time with them since I started working for the king, so I’m used to dealing with situations that are hard to explain, but I’ve never been at the center of one.
My nose is smashed against a throw pillow, but that doesn’t stop me from sucking in a deep, fabric-scented breath. Hm. I might need to wash the covers on my pillows.
Maybe Eoin will do it when he cleans my place.
Groaning, I bury my face deeper into the pillow. Some of the tasks on the list might seem nonsensical, but they’ve all been carefully picked for reasons I had to agree with. Even the two that were redacted—putting Eoin into a situation where he has to help me take care of a living entity, and leaving something important to me in his care—have logic and reason behind them.These aren’t pass/fail tasks; they’re designed to showcase Eoin’s commitment to me, or lack thereof. The scale for assessing them is broad, and having others weigh in will give me perspectives I might not have considered.
But was Eoin taking everything in stride because he’s confident, or because he doesn’t care? He barely even asked any questions. Was that a sign that he’s willing to take on anything for me, or that he’d be willing to walk away if the tests are too much?
Distant footsteps reach my ears, and a moment later, I hear the front door close and the sound of the lock engaging. Eoin’s here. That’s a sign, isn’t it? If he was ready to walk away, or thinking about it, he wouldn’t have insisted on coming over tonight. There wouldn’t have been those few moments around the king’s table where we connected, the awkwardness of this scenario falling away, replaced by the comfort ofus.
“Is this a new thing?” he asks now, amusement lacing his voice. “I can’t tell if you’re having a tantrum or trying to tempt me. If it’s the latter, it normally works better without pants.”
A reluctant snort of laughter escapes me, and I roll over to look up at him. There’s soft fondness on his face and humor in his eyes. “Are you saying I don’t tempt you with my pants on?”
Heat replaces humor. “Honey, you tempt me by breathing.”
Oh. I go from tired and insecure to feeling like a sex god in seconds. Eoin’s the only one who’s ever thought of me that way. I don’t doubt my own appeal—I’m too old and have done too much with too many people for that kind of insecurity—but somehow I’m special when I’m with Eoin.
I reach an arm up for him, and he takes my hand and kisses the palm, then nudges my hip with his knee. “Scoot over.”
Once we’re wrapped together on the too-small couch and I have the length of him pressed against me, his legs tangled with mine, it’s easier to relax. Maybe it’s foolish of me to get thisattached; maybe he will move on. Maybe that’s going to be soon, now that I’ve given him that stupid list. None of that matters right now.
Still… “Sorry tonight got so out of hand,” I mutter against his neck. His arms tighten around me.
“The out-of-hand part was my favorite part,” he says, kissing my hair. “Before that I was freaking out that you’d change your mind and just end things after all.”
Oh.
I’ve spent way too much of the past twenty-four hours feeling like a terrible person. I don’t like it.
“Eoin—”
“Stop. No guilt, please. This is what I want, remember?”
“But—”
“No. Dáithí, seriously, I want to do this. I’m going to win your trust along with your heart, and for the rest of our lives, every time we have an argument or you start to feel a little neglected because I’m busy with work, you’ll be able to remember this. Not that I’d ever let you feel neglected,” he adds, and I huff a reluctant little laugh.
“You know I think you’re amazing, right?” I check. He can read me like a book, but I’m not always so sure about what he’s feeling.
“I never doubted it,” he assures me. “Trust me, Dáithí. Trust me to prove how perfect we are for each other.”
My chest tightens, and I force myself to breathe deeply and evenly. I want to tell him I do, but my brain won’t let me speak those words. “I trust you to try,” I finally say instead, and he kisses my hair again.
“That’s enough for me—for now, anyway. We don’t have to talk about this, though. We’ll be spending enough time and effort on it over the next few months. Tell me about the rest of your day.”
Few months?I guess that’s a good sign for me, if he’s not planning to cram everything into the next week or so. But he’s right; we don’t need to spend all our time together talking about this.
“My day? Not that exciting. The usual dramas with people not being able to read the instructions for the printer. I’d rather hear what’s going on with this hockey thing.” I was so preoccupied yesterday that I never asked.
“The meeting with the marketing guy from the Warhammers?” Eoin asks.
“Yeah. Erik.”
“Do you know him?” Eoin’s surprise is clear. “You didn’t mention it.”
