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E.Z. grabbed for my waist, pulling me around to his front. Leaning down, he pretended to nibble on my neck. His mouth never made contact, but the heat of his breath sent goosebumps down my arms.
I laughed, wiggling in E.Z.’s arms, only half attempting to push him away. His arms were bars around my midsection, so my pathetic attempts were in vain. His arms tightened against my spine, eliminating all space between our bodies as he leaned me backward, chasing me with his mouth.
E.Z. chuckled and pulled us upright but kept me tucked close to his side. I found myself borrowing deeper and looking up at him with a broad smile on my face.
“Goddess, you are such a facetious turd.” I shoved him. I only smiled inside, but it was a big smile. I liked that about him. I liked that E.Z. was a facetious turd. “You’re so full of it.”
Every time I looked at E.Z., his eyes seemed to be a different color. They shifted with his moods or the lighting or something. At that moment, they were the bluest I had seen, with no trace of the green that often swirled within. And they showed what appeared to be genuine happiness. It made me happy, too.
* * *
E.Z. may have been a terrible tour guide, but he was helpful in other ways. As time passed, the crowds became thicker. His height made him a head taller than most underfed villagers, helping him see over the growing crowds while his broad shoulders paved a path. His hand gripped my waist securely, keeping me close as he guided us.
I pulled back slightly, trying to slow us down as E.Z. steered us right past our destination.
“Umm…” I trailed off, pointing behind us as we passed. “We just passed the inn.”
“We’ll get back to that. I need to eat, or I get cranky.” E.Z. flashed me a smile.
“I can’t ever see you being cranky,” I laughed. E.Z. always had such an infectious good mood.
“Oh, it happens, Kaia Shrimp. And watch out when it does. I bite!” E.Z.'s grin was sinful, making me want to test that out. He must have correctly read my face because he laughed, bent down, and placed a kiss on the top of my head.
“We can scope out the area while we eat. It needs to be done before we check in anyway,” E.Z. continued as we approached a cart with smoke billowing out. It smelled divine. The man clearly had a nose for food.
E.Z. paid, handing me a warm paper-wrapped bundle before reverently cradling his own. He inhaled and groaned before placing one hand on my lower back and leading us away.
We carefully stepped through a garden full of every flower imaginable, surrounding a cracked stone fountain in the middle of the town square. There were steppingstones, but flowers had grown with complete abandon, covering most. Mud, moss, and vines crawled over the long-dry fountain, making the whole scene seem lost and forgotten.
We joined other patrons who perched on the edge, settling our food on our laps. E.Z. tore into his package rigorously and started to inhale his meat.
Our location gave us the perfect view of the front door of the Whispering Oaks Inn, as well as a great vantage point to see almost the entire rest of the courtyard.
While E.Z. scanned our surroundings, I took the opportunity to study him. He was alert, his eyes roving between the crowd and the inn's front door, pausing at times to linger. His blond hair shone in the sun, the wind ruffling the curls so they caressed his tanned cheeks. I couldn’t help but be transfixed as his jaw worked his food, the tightening and ticks emphasizing his strong jawline. I watched that jaw flutter several times.
E.Z.'s eyes sparkled with humor when they caught my eyes on him. I couldn’t even find it in myself to be embarrassed because his eyes were shining brighter than I’d ever seen before.
“Eat,” he said around a mouthful, tapping my package of food before taking another bite, moaning. “It’s so good.”
I snapped my eyes to my food, opening the package to avoid E.Z.’s self-satisfied grin. Delectable steam escaped into the air, making my mouth water. The first bite of the roasted pheasant leg had juices running down my chin, eliciting my own moan. It was crisped and browned to perfection.
E.Z. smiled at the sound, his cheeks puffed out, full of meat. He chewed quickly and swallowed.
“Your juices are leaking, Kaia Chicken Legs.” He reached over, rubbing his thumb over my bottom lip, pulling it down slightly as he swept them up.
I stopped eating. Hell, I stopped breathing as E.Z. raised his thumb to his own mouth. My body heated up as that thumb slid between his soft-looking pink lips. White teeth glinted at me. My heart picked up speed as those plump lips wrapped around that thumb. He sucked, and my core clenched with need, squeezing and pulsing. Empty.
E.Z.’s grin was replaced with something darker as he looked at me with a hunger that had nothing to do with food.
“Chicken legs,” I managed to squeak out. “That’s definitely not any sort of compliment.”
“You’re right. You definitely don’t have chicken legs.” E.Z.’s sharp gaze slid down my legging-covered legs. His tongue peeked out, licking his lips. “To be fair, I’m more interested in your chicken breasts.”
I laughed, looking away, my face inflamed. I was unsure how to take E.Z.. He was always forward. Always joking and teasing. But sometimes, it didn’t seem like a tease. Sometimes, it seemed real. Sure, he was always amused, his grin showing how much he loved his games. But sometimes, his eyes were serious. He seemed to like the picture his mind was painting for him.
Was he flirting with me for real? Or teasing me? It’s hard to tell with E.Z.. Did he want a reaction? Was I supposed to flirt back?
Without an answer to those questions, and not wanting to embarrass myself by flirting back if I was reading this situation wrong, I concentrated on finishing my lunch and listening to the chatter of the other patrons.
