Page 2 of The Incendiary

Her gaze lingered at the sight of the bed, and she fidgeted with the tie of her cloak around her neck. Her throat worked through a swallow.

“I’ve only got the one room,” I rushed out to distract her, hating how nervous this was making her. “It’s not much, but it’s my home.”

“I like it. It’s cozy.” Heat flooded my veins as she smiled again.

“I like it better with you here.” I couldn’t believe the charming things coming out of my own mouth, but they were true. “You’re very sweet.” She blushed.

Sweet. A word no woman had ever called me.

She wandered over to the shelf that held a couple of fishhooks, nails, and some simple iron twists, spirals, and knots. Some of the first pieces I’d ever made. “Is it just you that lives and works here?”

“This place used to belong to a blacksmith and his wife. Isaac and Eden. They raised me. Taught me everything I know… other than the fighting.” They had never approved of the fighting.

She gave her attention to one of my trinkets. Reluctantly, I turned my back to her. The steam from the stove and nerves in my body caused sweat to prickle on my forehead. I looked down at the meal and, fearing I’d make a poor impression in more ways than one, wished I could afford more than beef and potatoes from the market.

“Where are your guardians?” Ella asked.

I cleared my throat. “They both passed away five years ago.”

“Oh. I’m so sorry.” Her tone was sweet and rich with compassion.

“They knew my mother,” I continued, tossing a glance over my shoulder. “She died giving birth to me. Isaac and Eden didn’t have any children of their own, so they took me in.” I never spoke about this to anyone, yet here I was, revealing my life story. I wanted to be vulnerable with her. She felt so genuine. “I’m grateful to them.”

“I would have loved to meet them,” she answered sweetly.

I chuckled quietly to myself. They’d cared for me, but they would have adored her. Especially Eden, though she would’ve warned Ella to stay the hell away from me for her own sanity.

“They would have loved you,” I answered, so preoccupied with cooking that I didn’t hear her approach from behind. Her fingers were suddenly on my back, and in her touch there was light and love and fire and air. I felt renewed.

“Are you all alone?” she asked.

I turned and rested my hand over hers, needing her close. Her skin was warm and soft beneath mine.

“I’m not alone right now. And…” Shit, this was forward, but I wanted to be honest. “I don’t think I’ve gone a full ten seconds without thinking about you since you left my shop.”

She fought a smile. “Is that normal for you?”

How could I answer that without sounding crass? There had been a lot of women, but none had ever held my attention, and I could hardly remember their names. I hated admitting that to myself with her standing before me. She was infinitely beyond what I deserved, but I wasn’t going to let that stop me.

“Normal? Not particularly,” I muttered, gesturing to the table. “Please, sit.” I needed to put some distance between us before I lost my wits, grabbed her, kissed her, trapped her in my arms until morning.

As I served us both food, she asked me questions no one had ever bothered to ask before. How long had I been a blacksmith? Had I traveled much outside of Brinnea? What was my favorite color? (Green, after one look in her eyes.)

When she took her first bite, I found myself wishing I’d spent the last few years doing a lot less drinking, fucking, and fighting and much more cooking and praying to the gods. The tension in my body eased and my appetite returned enough to eat when she covered her mouth with the manners of a true lady and said, “This is delicious.”

We talked for hours. She was way smarter than me, despite being younger. Eden had educated me a little—reading, writing, arithmetic, history—but Ella spoke about texts both ancient and modern, tales of the gods, scientific theories I’d never heard of. Her passion was contagious. Her dimples popped every time she smiled. I suddenly wanted to read all these things so I would have more to discuss with her. I wanted her to smile more.

She opened up quickly, like she’d been longing to share her thoughts with someone for ages. It took me no time at all to realize I’d be content to hear her talk for the rest of my life.

After my last bite, I cleared my throat and asked the question I had been working up the courage to ask through the whole meal.

“Are you… spoken for?” I sent a desperate prayer to the gods that she wasn’t already in love with someone. Love. The word was new to me, but when I looked at her, it was all I could think about.

“No.” She looked down at her fidgeting fingers. “But I haven’t been completely honest with you. And I need to be, because being near me is… dangerous.”

“You’re in danger?” That was all I heard. Danger. “Who?” I stood, propelled by a protective instinct I didn’t understand. I should have pressed her yesterday when she said she needed a weapon. “Who wants to hurt you, Ella?”

“Slow down, Gavin. I haven’t even told you who I am.”