Page 28 of Twilight of Embers
By the time I returned with their beverages, those two familiar faces were sitting at my reserved table. I approached warily. “Are you allowed to be sitting here?”
Knox’s gaze jerked up at the sound of my voice, and a huge grin spread across his face. “Hayden, what are you doing here?”
Easton scoffed and simply glared in my direction.
Oh, joy.
I pointed at my apron. “I’ll give you three guesses, but the first two don’t count.”
Knox frowned. “Aren’t you taking a full course load? Are you sure you have time for a job?”
I pulled my menu pad out of my apron pocket. “I’ve managed work and school for a long time.”
Apparently, that was the wrong thing to say, because Knox’s frown only deepened.
“You shouldn’t be working here,” Easton gritted out.
My gaze flicked to him. “And why’s that?”
His jaw worked back and forth. “It’s not the place for you. Try on campus. The bookstore or something. Or just stick to your classes.”
My eyes narrowed. “Not everyone gets to roll around in G-Wagons for fun. Some of us have to provide for ourselves.”
Easton’s green eyes flashed gold as he gnashed his teeth together.
Knox choked on a laugh. “Told you the Mercedes was too much.” His focus moved to me, expression sobering. “Just don’t push it too hard, okay? Don’t want you getting sick or anything.”
“I won’t,” I assured him. “Now, would you like something to drink?”
“Yeah. I’ll have a—shit,” Knox muttered. His gaze moved from somewhere on the street back to me. “I’m really sorry for what’s about to happen.”
15
HAYDEN
My brow furrowed at Knox’s words, but the sound of the bell had me turning toward the door. As I took in the man in the entryway, I froze. I’d never seen anything like him. He looked like he was born in a different time. The Viking era, maybe?
He was massive, even taller than the twins, with broad shoulders and a muscled chest. His white-blond hair was long but shaved on the sides. The strands themselves were woven into intricate braids or dreads, and tattoos decorated the sides of his skull.
The moment his light blue eyes locked on me, they flashed silver.
He moved quickly then, his scuffed-up motorcycle boots eating up the space as he strode toward me.
My lips parted in part shock, part awe.
“Cáel,” Knox warned.
But it was too late. The Viking came right into my space and hauled me into his arms, crushing me to his chest.
I let out an oomph at the impact. My first instinct was to shove him off or knee him in the balls. But the second his scent wrapped around me, I froze. It was a mix of freshly falling snow and campfire. Something about it held me captive, but more than that, it hit me with a longing that nearly took me out at the knees.
The man’s hand slipped under my fall of hair, and the moment his fingers touched my neck, that now-familiar zap of electricity coursed through me. He shuddered against me, seeming to feel the exact same sensation I was.
“Ceann Beag,” he whispered.
“Cáel,” Easton growled. “Let her go.”
“No,” he gritted out.
