“Report,” Killian barks, and she flinches, stopping but not turning around.
“No signs in the forest. The only tracks are deer and places we’ve been assured allies have stepped. Everyone has been called back inside the domain to search for the spring. Rose is preparing the meat, but time is limited. All of our seals have worn off.” When she says that last bit, she holds her hand up to demonstrate the unmarked skin.
“Dismissed,” Killian orders.
She doesn’t hesitate.
I wait until she’s outside before saying, “Would it kill you to use some manners?”
He makes a ‘herrm’ noise, which I translate to him thinking about it. I’m not going to hold my breath though.
Roarke thumps back down the stairs to join us, a really big piece of rolled-up parchment in his hand. He pauses by the fireplace to load in more wood, then walks up behind me, dropping the parchment onto the clean section of the narrow bench and settling into place at my back. Meanwhile, Seth picks up two pieces of fruit from the basket, rinses them under the tap, then tosses one to me.
I catch it but don’t stick it straight into my mouth because I’m not fond of eating strange fruit. There was that one time I ate berries I shouldn’t have and couldn’t walk more than two seconds from the bathroom without having to run back in. My ass hurt for weeks.
He bites into his small orange fruit, eating it skin and all, and smiling at me with his mouthful. Not convincing enough. I roll mine between my fingers, waiting for a joke to follow.
Roarke leans in next to my ear and almost whispers, “It’s a kumquat; you eat it.”
Oh, come on.
This is an elaborate joke even for Seth. Having Aria pick the fruit and deliver it and having Roarke tell me the damn thing sounds like cum-squat said quickly. Because maybe I’ll believe Roarke and fall for it.
I sniff it, but don’t bite because I still don’t believe them!
Roarke holds his hand out, and Seth throws one to him. He bites it in half and presses the sweet and sour mix of juice and rind between his teeth.
“And it’s called a kumsquat?” I ask.
“Kumquat,” Seth manages to say without laughing at me.
“You didn’t have fruit at the Manor?” Roarke asks, his head cocked to the side – analyzing me.
This is definitely one of those times I want to remind him that I am not their pet or their toy.
Instead, I blurt out, “Yes, we had watermelons that grew in the trenches that ran water to the cattle. They were called watermelons because they were mostly made of water.”
Seth starts chuckling, sucks in a snort, then lets out full-belly laughter.
If I could hide right now, I would. I have a hard enough time dealing with their junk, anything else is beyond me.
But my mouth presses on, “So what are they made of?”
“Not kum or quat,” Seth snorts.
“Are you sure? I mean, honestly, would you even know?”
“Yes,” all of them say.
“I’m a hundred percent sure the flavors are nothing alike,” Roarke adds.
My cheeks burn red hot, and I contemplate my escape options – all five paces of them. Which is making hiding in the larder feel really appealing. I mean, it would easily fit two of me in there, just not standing up – so it has potential.
Roarke literally groans, leaning against the bench and lowering his head like something I said is bordering on being physically painful for him. Seth can’t stop laughing, and further back, Killian just crosses his arm and watches the show with a little smile hanging on his lips.
“Well, I don’t know, and I’m not sure it’s worth the risk,” I say.
“Try it,” Seth teases. “You’re not going to know if they’re anything like –”
“Ignore him,” Roarke cuts in. “They’re a citrus. They taste like a citrus.”
I just can’t get past the chance that Seth’s going to get me with this. Unless I get him first, just for good measure.
I roll my eyes, stopping and looking intently like I’ve spotted something on the ceiling. I even put a curious crease on my brow.
“Oh, look,” I say with an excited pitch. “It says gullible on the support beam.”
Seth sucks in his laugh and looks up. “It does?”
“Yeah, just there,” I say, pointing with the hand that's holding the fruit – which may or may not be an elaborate joke.
“She can’t read,” Roarke points out.
I didn’t fool him one bit, but I got Seth, and he has an oversized smile on his face to prove it. He shoves the rest of his fruit into his mouth and continues to smile with his cheeks bulging.
“That’s okay. I’ll get you back,” he mumbles around the mouthful.
Before I have a chance to brave my own fruit, Pax whistles, sharp and sudden. It makes me jump and spin around, but the man is outside, and I can’t see a thing because Roarke is right behind me.
Was right behind me – now we’re nose to nose.
He lets out a staggered breath, straightening just enough that it becomes clear all of his attention is on my lips.
Chuck, I know how that feels.
Minutes ago I wanted to kiss Killian, and now I want to kiss Roarke. I am officially the worst mate ever.
Seth shoves a handful of kumquats between us, breaking the moment.
In the next beat the fruit is forced into my hands, I’m practically pushed off the bench, letting out an indignant squeak as I try to regain my balance, and we’re all moving toward the door.
Roarke, Seth, me, then Killian.
With all of their lips on my mind.
Pax, Rose, and Jada are standing in the middle of his muster area. I could also call it his war room – except we’re outside. Rose is poised in her usual fierce stance, with a dagger that she’s twirling just for entertainment as they talk. It’s blood-smeared, fresh from cleaning the deer on
