Page 65 of Coffee Break with the Billionaire

Which leaves Silas to talk to me.

“This is fun,” he says, leaning down so I can hear him over the music. “Family time with the king?” I haven’t drunk enough to miss the flash of uncertainty cross his face, so I hand him my half-empty pint of honey mead.

“It is fun! I told them at dinner all about the idea for a bar and when I said I needed a renaissance—reco-sauce… a fact-finding mission,” I manage— “they all decided to come with. FYI—” I lean against Silas’s arm, which suddenly slips behind my back in a very smooth move. “Sir Duncan isveryattractive.”

“Yes, he is,” Silas agrees with a chuckle. He rests his hand gently on my hip, and alcohol or not, I like the feel of it there.

“So are you,” I decide. “Why don’t you like pumpkin spice?”

“I—what?”

“You don’t like pumpkin spice,” I point out. “But it’s strange because—” I lean closer, almost resting my head on the wide breadth of his chest. “You kind of smell like it.”

“Are you smelling me?” he asks in a low voice, with the kind of tone that curls around your insides.

“I—kind of, yes. You smell good,” I confess.

“You smell really good, too. Like cherries.” He looks as surprised as I am that those words just came out of his mouth. “And right now, a variety of alcohol.”

“I’m not surprised,” I say with a laugh. “You need to smell like that too. C’mon. Time to catch up. Next stop?” I call to the others.

“Sailor’s Salon?” Gunnar asks.

“What about Ragnarok?” Edie demands.

“Oooh, let’s go there,” I cheer. “That was fun last time.”

King Magnus lifts his empty glass, looking so much like a Viking—albeit one in a faded concert T-shirt and ratty jeans—that I wish I kept my phone to take a picture. “To Ragnarok!” he cries.

Chapter twenty-four

Silas

Ilive in acountry with a monarchy. We are ruled by a king who is just and kind and benevolent to his people.

I had no clue King Magnus could slam back a shot like that.

I’m seeing a new side of the royal family, which leaves me feeling like I’ve stepped through the wardrobe into Narnia. I’ve never seen Prince Kalle look so happy, keeping a hand on Edie at all times and looking down at her with such devotion in his eyes that it’s like he’s a different person from the gruff former athlete who still shows up to throw balls with the high school team.

King Magnus looks like Gunnar when he grins, and he does that constantly, keeping up at least three different conversations at once and bringing anyone within arm’s reach into his orbit.

He is the sun here in Battle Harbour tonight and the rest of us rotate around him, hoping for a bit of his warmth.

I understand now why men will go to battle for their king.

After three shots—shaken and stirred by Fenella behind the bar—and a pint of honey mead, I realize there is no way I can catch up to the others.

But it’s still fun to try.

Ragnarok is where the LGBTQ community hangs out, so the dance floor is wide and packed, the music a loud and cheerful mix of 1990s boy band pop and recent hits. After Fenella’s bartender stint is over, I pull her out onto the dance floor.

“You like to dance?” she asks with amazement, raising her voice so I can hear her over NSYNC.

“Love it.” I move my shoulders, wiggle my hips, and Fenella claps her hands with delight.

“I love that you love it, because I love to dance.” She does a few of the Bye, Bye Bye moves, and a space opens for us on the dance floor.

I wave to a few people that I recognize, but all the attention is on Fenella. Apparently, she has a huge following within the LGBTQ community here in Battle Harbour. There is shrieking, a few screams, a lot of hugging and countless selfies taken with her.

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