Page 33 of Romancing the Throne
Sparrow let out a long sigh. “I suppose we should move.”
“Must we?” I asked, still luxuriating in the warmth of his magic.
“Yes!” He laughed. “You know that Rowan and Aran and Finhad are coming for dinner tonight, and so are Teon and Aldian. They will all be expecting a table full of fresh summer vegetables, and that won’t happen unless I pick them.”
“Is that why you’re baking bread? I smelled it from the front door.”
Sparrow turned his wide gaze toward me. “You didn’t eat it, did you?”
“No.” It was my turn to laugh. “I was tempted, though.”
“If you help me pick the beans and pull up the beets, I’ll let you have the end piece of the loaf,” he said.
“Hmmm. I’m not sure if that’s enough to make me move,” I said, running a thumb over his left nipple piercing. He shivered despite the warmth of the garden, and I smiled to myself.
“But wehaveto,” he said, his eyes wide, even though he now sounded as unwilling as I did.
“Well, if you must be such a social butterfly,” I told him with a sigh, and his face grew pink as he laughed.
When Sparrow had first moved to Emberleigh, he’d been afraid he would have no friends. Now he knew more elves than I did. Of course my friends and family were his as well, but he’d made plenty more friends for himself in his explorations of the city and by selling his garden produce at the markets. His natural curiosity about others combined with his open and earnest nature meant that he made friends easily, and kept them too. He had spent a lot of years in Hillstowe with only the birds for company, and he was making up for it now. Not that he didn’t still love birds. And they, of course, loved him. Especially in winter, when his garden was warm and full of life.
We rose to our feet, and I fetched the basket from beside the kitchen door. Barefoot, we wandered up and down therows of garden beds, picking whatever we needed for dinner. Before long the basket was overflowing with green beans and ripe red tomatoes and plump purple beets, along with a handful of fresh herbs.
Sparrow wiped his hands on his pants. “I must change before our guests arrive.”
“That’s a pity,” I said and meant it.
It was always a shame to cover his tattoos with a tunic, but it wasn’t like I wouldn’t get to explore them later tonight—and I was almost certain I’d spotted a new bird hidden near his left hip. Sparrow took great delight in adding to his collection and waiting for me to discover his new artwork.
So did I.
He laughed. “No, I really must.”
I set the basket down and caught him by the wrist as he made to move toward the cottage.
“What?” he asked, wrinkling his nose as he looked up at me.
I stood behind him and put my arms around him, resting my chin on his shoulder. “Nothing. Just that I love you, and I’d like to stand here a little longer in the warmth with you.”
“I love you too,” Sparrow said and held his hands over mine where they were clasped around his waist.
And so we stood there in the garden, Sparrow and I, basking in the warmth of his sunlight.
