Page 6 of A Winter Romance
“I’ll take that as a yes.” Sero went towards his rucksack, reached inside, and pulled out something. He walked back and tore off a part of the loaf. “Here, it’s a Solstice loaf. It’s spiced, contains a mixture of dried berries, plus fresh Solstice berries. It’s better the day it’s baked, but…” He shrugged.
Reluctantly, Aryn loosened his grip on the furs. He took the chunk, bit into the soft loaf, and moaned. “It’s delicious!”
To be honest, he hadn’t expected much. The dried bread rolls he’d gotten from the inn had been uninspiring. He had prepared himself for poor food until he returned to Bordertown. But this was incredible!
He took another bite, letting the unusual spices and tastes roll around in his mouth as he tried to identify the ingredients. He’d never eaten anything like it before, sweet but with some tartness. Lots of unusual spices. Nutmeg? Cinnamon? But what else? Lots of different berries. And what had Sero said? Solstice berries? He’d never heard of them.
Sero’s dark-grey lips smiled at the compliment. Matching dimples appeared on his cheeks. It caused Aryn to pause chewing. Sero had been handsome when he’d been annoyed and frowning at Aryn, but when he smiled, it took Aryn’s breath away. He had the urge to lean forward and lick one of the dimples. To taste his skin. Aryn swallowed and continued chewing.
“I’m glad you like it. I made it myself.”
“Really?”
Sero’s smile widened. Apparently, the way to make him smile was to compliment the food. Aryn continued to chew. He wanted to lick those dimples, press his tongue into them. He wondered if Sero tasted like the loaf he’d baked. “I’ve never had anything like this before. If this was in Bordertown, everyone would be talking about it. There would be lines outside the bakery.”
“Well, you wouldn’t get that in Bordertown. I doubt you’d be able to get some of the spices. Or the Solstice berries. I collect them myself.”
“What else do you make?”
“Cakes, cookies, and bread. And some sweets. I’ll be making Solstice cakes soon. My father taught me to bake, but he makes simple bread and cakes. My mother taught me to forage. I put the two together.”
Aryn took another bite. He’d never known a baker before. Bakers tended to run in different social circles. But of course, Aryn knew the best bakeries in Bordertown. He might be a poor perfume alchemist, but he knew where to find good food.
“I like to experiment with flavours. I can spend hours just baking and trying new things. Nothing makes me happier than being in my kitchen. The loaf you’re eating is one of my creations,” Sero said, a hint of pride in his voice.
Aryn felt a little envious; he’d never felt like that when making perfumes. Not that it mattered. He was a Greweth. He was born to make perfumes. It was in his blood. It didn’t matter if he liked it or not.
“But”—Aryn glanced around the cave—“where do you bake?” Aryn knew bakeries. Stores, with windows filled with shelves of bread, cakes, loaves, rolls, cookies, and other baked goods. If Sero lived here, where did he bake and who did he bake for?
“I’m a baker in Ores, the village where I live. My family lives there. It’s not Bordertown or Castle Evermore, but there are a few of us who live there.”
“Ores?” He’d never heard of it. “So you don’t live here?” He placed the last of the loaf in his mouth, disappointed it was gone.
“No.” Sero reached into his pack, pulled out a roll, and handed it to Aryn.
Aryn bit into the soft bread and held back a groan at the buttery taste.
“I come here to get away for a few days, now and then.”
“In the middle of winter?” Aryn struggled to comprehend why someone would stay in a cave willingly when he could be inside an actual building. Any building would be better than this.
“Well, being half-oread means that the cold doesn’t bother me so much. I’m fine walking through the snow practically naked. As you can tell.” He gestured to his body.
Aryn tried and failed to not run his eyes down the lines and contours of Sero’s body. He turned his eyes back to the roll in his hand.
He wasn’t sure if Sero was interested in men, but if he offended Sero, he might end up on his arse out in the snow. Aryn took another bite, looking at the ridges of the cave wall, trying not to lust after the half-nymph who’d saved him.
ChapterSix
“If you don’t mind the cold, why do you have a fire and this bed, with all these?” Aryn asked, indicating the furs.
“It’s cosy.” Sero smiled sheepishly. “I like to come in from the snow, light a fire, wrap myself in furs on the bed, and surround myself in heat and softness.”
That did sound nice. His eyes drifted to Sero’s body, along the trim torso and firm stomach. It would be nice to be surrounded by Sero. All heat and softness. Some hardness too.
“When the snow stops, I’ll take you to Ores.”
“What? No! Why would I want to go to Ores? I just want to go back to Bordertown.” Aryn wanted to be back in civilisation, not some random village in the mountains.
