Page 88 of Crown of the Fae King

I nodded. “That fff…” I nearly said fairy!

He smirked. “Feckin’ might be the word you’re looking for.”

“Yes. That feckin’ inspector tried to get a confession out of me, but there was nothing to confess. He said you’d vouched for us, so thank you.”

“He threatened to arrest me as well if I tried to warn you away. But I certainly would have if I’d had a phone number. And for once, I hoped you wouldn’t come.”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

“No more apologies. We’ll just be grateful yourdadlet you out of the house.”

I picked at a chocolate croissant while we sat in comfortable silence, and I pretended we were alone. I asked where he lived and what it was like, and he told me about the woman who lives above him and plays the cello, that the sound turns his ceiling into a speaker but he doesn’t mind. He pretends she’s playing just for him.

“Lucky for me, she’s immensely talented.”

“Sounds lovely,” I said. “I’m glad she doesn’t play the trumpet.”

He smiled and toyed with his coffee cup. He was either distracted or building up courage to tell me our Dating with Chaperones thing wasn’t going to work for him. I forced myself to breathe while I waited to see which it was.

Finally, he looked me in the eye again. “So...one of these days...I am determined to make you breakfast.” He paused to be sure I knew what he meant. I knew what he meant. “What is your favorite? I'll practice making it in the meantime."

So he wasn’t breaking it off!

"Oh, I like everything."

He cocked his lovely head. "That's not an answer."

"All right. I…I like pancakes. Fluffy,tasty...and too big to fit in your pocket."

"Pancakes in pockets? There has to be a story to that."

I considered lying for only a second, then told him how I got stuck in Idaho, got stuck with a pile of debt from Neal using my social security number, and how I scraped to get those bills paid down. I didn't mention Wickham bailing me out. I still felt like I'd cheated andwascheated of the chance to completely dig myself out on my own.

Then I told him about Charlotte, my brave, stubborn friend, and how resourceful we’d been finding insulation for her little shack. I didn’t tell him how Wickham had rescued her, but I did end with the fact that she was now safe and cared for, in a home.

“She’s probably gained three sizes already.”

Griffon was watching me, so I smiled and shook off the old memories. "Lennon."

Oh my gosh. He had that horrible pity-tone to his voice, like maybe he'd never see me the same way again. In just a few minutes, I'd totally ruined our relationship. I should have never worn the hoodie!

My smile was gone. "Please don't. I was just explaining why I like big pancakes, that's all. I shared too much. Now you think I'm some...welfare case."

He closed his eyes.

"See? You can't even look at me now. I've seen that reaction before." I scooted my chair back, prepared to go. "Just…just please, don't remember me that w--"

He lunged for me, stood and lifted me at the same time. Those big arms wrapped around me, cut off my air, refused to let me go. He said nothing, just held me, shook me once—was he just sad for the lonely, starving girl I hardly remembered anymore?

Suddenly, I was sad for her too. For the first time since I'd left Idaho behind, I wept for her.

For me.

I couldn't say how long we stood there like that. If we made other customers uncomfortable, I wouldn't know.And I didn't care. Thankfully, we were allowed our little bubble and I didn't hear any complaints or rude noises from the peanut gallery by the door.

Eventually, I pushed a little and he let me go. I needed more air than I was getting. Otherwise, we might have been there until the owners kicked us out.

I opened my mouth to say something clever, but Griffon's fingers pressed against my lips.

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