I roll my eyes at her, but Tristan leans forward, cocking his head with interest. Wow.
“Just… an adventure that lasts a single night,” I mutter, watching Viola slide an omelette onto a plate.
“Well, ours will last much longer,” Tristan says with unshakable confidence. “Viola told me you love these with your breakfast?” He picks up an avocado from a basket of vegetables and to my horror, bites into it as if it’s an apple.
Viola gasps, covering her mouth.
“Hm. N-not great,” he mumbles with his mouth full. “Like Fool’s Apple.”
“Because that’s not how you eat it,” I yelp and take the fruit out of his hand. At least this way I don’t have to address what he said about our hookup lastingmuch longer. Because he must be fucking with me.
If love at first sight is a thing at all, it does not happen to guys like me.
I grab a paper towel and put it under his mouth like he’s a puppy that ate what he shouldn’t. “Go on, spit it out, it’s okay.”
Tristan hesitates for a moment but then takes the paper towel from me and turns around to dispose of the half-chewed avocado. “Thanks, I… it’s not intuitive.”
Viola bites back a laugh as she halves the big omelette and shoves one part onto a separate plate. I grab a small chopping board and cut the avocado into slices while Tristan watches the process over my shoulder. Next, in goes a tomato, and a small chunk of red pepper, and by the time I put the plate in front of him, I’m quite proud of myself.
“Now, try it with the vegetables and egg.”
He slides his hand to my waist and strokes me with a pleased expression that sends shivers up my thighs. “You’re spoiling me,” he says as he packs the omelette into his mouth. He approaches the avocado with understandable mistrust but eventually eats it too. The satisfied murmur he lets out is all the prize I need. “Very creamy,” Tristan adds once he swallows.
Viola glances at me and I only realize what she’s doing when there’s a jar in Tristan’s hands.
And not just any jar, it’sthejar. Pickles she got from her mom when she first moved in. It’s sealed so tightly no one’s been able to open it so far. We could have just used a tool, but that would have been too easy. Instead, we’ve agreed to hand it to any man who comes through our doors for a secret test only we understand. The one who manages to unscrew the lid is superior marriage material.
“Hey, Tristan, do you think you can open this for me?” she asks innocently as my heart stops beating altogether.
He smiles while still chewing his food, then twists off the lid as easily as if it hadn’t been sealed in the first place. The loudclickof metal makes me stiffen in mild arousal.
Surely, that is not a normal reaction, but what can I do?
I’m only human.
“Wow, you are so strong,” Viola says, grinning at me from behind Tristan. “Maybe you could move our washing machine too? We’ve had some problems with it, and I need to reach to the pipe in the back…”
Tristan sits ever taller in the bar stool by the counter. “I most definitely can. Especially after such a hearty breakfast.”
If he really is who he says he is, he has no idea what a washing machine is, so I have to admire his confidence. Viola grabs a pickle from the jar and extends it to me with a knowing smile. Ridiculous. I’m not putting my life on the line because of a jar prophecy.
A sudden flurry of whimpers grabs our attention, and it takes me a second to remember I’m now fostering a puppy. Lady waddles toward me so fast she falls over on the tiles.
“Well, hello,” I chirp, sinking to my haunches as the little rottie approaches me, swung left and right by her own tail. “Looking good today. Did you have fun with Auntie Viola?” I ask, picking up her pudgy form. The puppy’s warm tongue rolls over my chin, and I laugh, turning to face Tristan. “What about her? Do you remember?”
“Oh yes! The pup!” Tristan says excitedly, reaching for Lady with his hand. “Just look at it. No spikes, no horns, baby teeth, and I will go out on a limb and assume no venom either?”
Viola laughs. “The only flaw is how she’s still not trained to pee in the right place.”
“You can teach them that?” Tristan asks in amazement. “My friend has a bat, and he’s not yet been successful in these matters.”
I frown. “Bats aren’t domesticated…”
Tristan shrugs. “Well, he’s the husband of the Lord of the Nocturne Court, so the fiend is flying around in a diaper.”
I scowl, unsure what to think of that, but when Lady pushes her soft muzzle against my neck, I pat her side and approach Tristan so he can pet her with more ease. “Dogs are extremely intelligent. You can also train them to help with hunts, fetch things, and alert people of anything from narcotics to low blood sugar.”
Tristan is so mesmerized with my every word I feel my cheeks heat up, but it’s Viola who speaks.
