Page 43 of One Winter Knight
Dusty stared at her, intently.
“Stop looking at me like that.” She pushed herself up, using his chest.
“Your voice is incredible,” he breathed. “And that song. I don’t even know what language that is. It’s like riding a horse through an old oak forest while being chased by elves with crossbows.”
“I think I’ve seen that movie.” Carlos put two mugs on the table–mine and Saoirse’s.
“Irish. It’s just an old song.” She shrugged and grabbed the bottle of tequila and held it up.
“I’ll open it.” Dusty popped up off the floor.
“Saoirse does have a nice voice. She plays instruments, too,” I added.
“Fiddle?” Dusty opened the bottle and handed it to Saoirse.
She took it with a glare. “I’m perfectly capable of opening it. I was asking permission.”
“I know.” He winked.
“Bodhrán,” I replied. “It’s a round traditional drum.” Traditional instruments, songs, and dancing were part of my curriculum at the academy, but I wasn’t really good at any of them.
Saoirse added a generous glug of tequila to both our cups. Carlos returned with two more mugs.
Dusty added some to his. “Hale-i-o-burrito, you should try it first without booze.”
Hale came over. “Which one is mine?”
“It has your name on it,” Carlos said from the kitchen.
Grabbing his mug, he took a sip. “I like it. Thanks.”
Carlos had a mug in his hand. Putting it down, he picked up the bottle of tequila and added some to his mug,
“I’ll try some of that.” Hale added some to his.
Dusty looked deep in thought as he drank his.
“I’m going to make us a snack.” Hale took his mug and moved into the kitchen.
More people cooking for me? My inner omega preened–and kept doing so as Saoirse and Carlos sat back down on both sides of me. Carlos carefully tucked the blankets around me.
I restarted the movie. But my attention was on Hale. When he saidsnackI was thinking of a bowl of chips, maybe even popcorn.
No. He was cutting cheese and bread. Wait, was he blending something? I wasn’t sure what was more impressive–the fact the villa had an immersion blender or that he could use one.
But maybe he’d attended one of those fancy alpha summer camps where they taught them to make their omegas gourmet meals and how to massage them.
Hale came back in with two plates. Each one had a grilled cheese sandwich and some tomato soup. He handed them to me and Saoirse.
“Thank you.” I took mine from him.
“Thanks,” Saoirse replied.
“You’re welcome. They were closing up a market by one of the snowboard parks and they had fresh bread and cheese and stuff, and it sounded perfect. Especially since according to my sisters, European butter is better.” Hale looked so proud of himself.
“It is,” Saoirse agreed.
Carlos looked at my plate then to Hale. “You can cook?”
