Page 7 of Marcus-stiltskin

The smell of the barn.

Coffee.

Marcus making coffee.

Marcus’s hands as he pours each cup.

Marcus’s hands in other places.

I open my eyes, and the flame is still there. I’m totally going to have to lie or fess up. That’ll be fun. I can just imagine it. “Sorry, I’m so horny for you. It’s causing me to cast fire magic everywhere, anytime I’m around you.” If I thought having my diary read aloud at fifteen was embarrassing, just wait until—

Then, without warning, the flame goes out as if it never existed. Pity party for the win?

“Sarah?” Marcus is halfway across the bay. He’s turned and is looking at me.

“Sorry, I thought I saw a mouse…but there was nothing there.”

He comes over to where I’m standing and inspects the hay. “Does this look burned to you?” He asks, picking up a few blacked stalks at the top.

“Maybe?” I hedge. “Could it be mold?”

“Maybe,” he says, but he doesn’t sound convinced. He pulls the blackened hay from the bale and tosses it in the trash. “Probably a good idea if I put traps out in the morning, just in case.”

“Couldn’t hurt,” I agree guiltily.

I follow him out of the bay and back into the hall. Thankfully, the stairs to the second floor aren’t steep. He grabs a caneleaning against the wall at the bottom of the stairs and uses it as we go up, but he seems to have had a lot of practice with the prosthetic. I slow down to keep pace with him.

The stairs lead up into a large open room with a few doors off to the right. A large, dated kitchen takes up the entire left side. Just as Marcus warned, there’s not much up here yet. A small table with a few chairs is set up near the kitchen area. Beyond the table is a couch. This was probably the place where the firefighters all hung out while on call.

“Sit wherever. I’m going to make coffee. How do you take yours?”

“More milk than coffee, please, and two spoons of sugar.” Unlike other men I’ve given my coffee order to, he doesn’t make a comment about how uncoffee-like my coffee is. He moves toward a counter as I turn to the couch, only to find a large ball of fur laying motionless smack dab in the middle of it.

“Is this another friend?” I ask, settling carefully on one end of the couch.

“Yeah, that’s Freddie K. He showed up on my porch after my divorce, missing a big patch of hair and covered in fleas. It was around Halloween and there was a Nightmare on Elm Street marathon running on TV, so I had to name him Freddie. He was ancient back then and now, I don’t know… he’s on, like, his tenth life. He’s deaf and half blind, so don’t expect too much activity on his end.”

Freddie K starts to snore, but doesn’t acknowledge us otherwise.

“Just so you know,” Marcus says as he hands me a mug carefully over Freddie K’s sleeping body before taking up the other end of the sofa, “you don’t have to volunteer if you are uncomfortable around the animals.”

I shake my head. “I need to get over it, anyway. Maybe exposure will help. Jacqueline will be popping out another babysoon and it would be good if I could offer more in the way of help other than just distracting their oldest for a few hours at a time and washing dishes.”

“I’m sure they appreciate that, too.”

I take a sip of the coffee. “Yes, but Lugh’s always after me to grow up.”

“You look pretty grown up to me.”

I roll my eyes at him, even as a secret thrill fills my belly. I look around quickly. Thankfully, no fires ignite. “I’m the same height I was last time you saw me.” I say, playing dumb. “No, you know–job with benefits, house, kids… the whole deal.”

He raises an eyebrow. “Do you really think Lugh expects all that right now from you, or could it be he just wants to see you in a secure spot in your life?”

I sigh. “Everyone knows security is an illusion. You’re walking around one day, life is fine and then suddenly one day everything just blows up in your face and–” I stop talking, horrified at how epically I’ve just put my foot in my mouth. Marcus just laughs.

“Exactly. But it doesn’t mean you still don’t try to plan, you still don’t work towards that goal.”

“Marcus,” I reach across Freddie K and put a hand on his knee. “I am so sorry, I didn’t mean—”

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