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Max

I woke before Ash.

For several minutes, I stayed exactly where I was, partly because moving would mean admitting the day had started and partly because Ash had somehow managed to take possession of most of the bed during the night.

He'd migrated toward me sometime after we'd fallen asleep, although migrated suggested considerably more subtlety than Ash had actually employed. One of his legs was tangled with mine, his head rested against my shoulder, and he'd stolen enough of the comforter that most of my left side was exposed to the cold air.

I could've fixed that, but instead, I lay there listening to him breathe.

Yesterday had been dangerously easy.

I'd spent years making sure nobody became part of this place. People visited occasionally, teammates had come for weekends, and once I'd hosted almost half a roster for three days that resulted in Luc banning professional hockey players from operating farm equipment without supervision.

None of them had mattered like Ash, because nobody had ever stood beside my horse pasture and made me wonder what it might be like if they were still there next year, or five years from now. Nobody had sat at my kitchen table laughing with Claire and Luc while some stupid, impossible part of me looked at the scene and thought yes.

My dragon shifted beneath my skin, unusually settled since we'd arrived and apparently entirely content with Ash inside the boundaries of the place we considered home. He was also completely unconcerned by the possibility that Ash might see him and run, which was easy for him when he wasn't the one who'd have to watch Ash's face.

Ash moved beside me, his forehead brushing my shoulder before his eyes opened. For a few seconds, he looked confused, then his gaze found mine and awareness returned gradually.

“Morning.”

“Bonjour.”

His eyes narrowed. “You sound suspiciously cheerful for someone who stole all the blankets.”

I stared at him until Ash glanced down at the comforter wrapped almost completely around his body, then back at me.

“Huh.”

“Exactly.”

“You could've taken some back.”

“I considered it, but I was concerned you might become violent.”

“I have bruised ribs.”

“You're still dangerous.”

His smile came slowly, sleepy and warm, and the sight tightened something in my chest because yesterday had been easy, while today was going to be anything but.

Maybe Ash saw something change in my expression because his smile faded slightly, although he didn't immediately ask what was wrong. Instead, he loosened his grip on the comforter and pushed half toward me.

It was such an ordinary gesture that I nearly laughed. I was about to show him I could become a creature large enough to destroy the bedroom we were lying in, and Ash was sharing the blanket.

“Coffee?” I asked.

“Definitely.”

I kissed his forehead before getting out of bed, telling myself I wasn't postponing anything.

Cowardice could apparently be measured in cups.

Claire had left breakfast in the kitchen.

She hadn't stayed inside, for which I was grateful, but there was a note beside the coffee informing me there were eggs and bacon in the warming drawer, bread on the counter, and that if Ash wanted anything else, I knew perfectly well where the kitchen was.

Underneath she'd added: