Page 25 of Hold my Reins

But at the same time, he couldn’t imagine Lynck staying with him.

No one stayed.

Starting with his father.

He needed to make the effort to be different. But his mother had always said that he should be himself, not change for anyone, because that was her mistake.

Lynck cupped Rox’s cheek. “A cloud crossed your face.”

“Huh?”

“Your smile vanished, like a cloud crossing the sun and turning the day cold.”

His lips curved as Lynck explained the phrase. “I was just thinking. Cooking with you made me remember…”

It wasn’t the entire truth, but it was enough. He hadn’t done this with anyone except Mom. “I have put time and distance between…but it’s like every memory I create links to something in the past, and the past still casts a shadow. I thought I’d moved on.”

“And maybe you had while you traveled, but now you are trying to settle in a new town, and everything is a reminder of the last time you had a home.”

Rox nodded. “What about you? When did you move past what happened?”

He needed to know that it was possible. That there’d be a time when he didn’t connect and compare the present to the past.

Lynck shook his head. “I’m not sure I have. Some things cast a long shadow, and while the intensity lessens so the sun can break through, there is still darkness. I’ll never forget, and I’m not sure I want to, but the memories don’t hurt the way they did, and the anger no longer exists.”

The first time Mom had cancer, he’d been angry. Angry that he had to deal with it, angry at her and the world. The second time, there’d only been exhaustion. “It’s an ache that catches me off guard when it shouldn’t.”

“You like cooking, and you did it with her. It’s natural that you join the two together. I put this together because the flavors remind me of something my father cooked, though I’m not sure what he’d make of the pasta.” Lynck’s nose bumped against his, then he pulled away. “It must be almost done.”

“Why do you do that?”

“What?” Lynck plucked out a spiral and bit into it, testing if the pasta was cooked. He nodded to himself and picked up the pot.

“The nose rub thing.”

“You don’t like it?”

“I didn’t say that. It’s different.” It was weirdly intimate without anything that could be called intimate happening.

Lynck drained the pasta, keeping a little of the water and adding to the ingredients that were to form the sauce. “Humans like to kiss, but among kelpies, the nuzzle is more common in both forms. I can stop?—”

“No. I don’t want you to change.”

“I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“I’m not. It was curiosity, and I don’t want to misconstrue and read things wrong. Like with your ears… They move around a lot, and the way they sit means something.”

Lynck raised one eyebrow, and the same ear turned. “Yes, but like your facial expressions, my ear movement isn’t conscious unless I’m pulling a face.” He scowled, flattening his ears and narrowing his eyes.

Rox’s heart kicked over for the wrong reason as there was a ferocity in Lynck’s glare that settled in the pit of his stomach, as though some kind of primal fear had woken.

“Is that your battle face?” His voice sounded steady, even as his pulse became erratic.

Lynck smiled, and the harshness evaporated like a puddle in the middle of summer. “It was. Also my, ‘we’re about to close, and you and your friends want to sit down for coffee? Oh, hell no, you get takeout cups’ face. It’s very effective.”

“Yeah. I can see that.” He doubted he’d even get his order out. He wanted to ask about the battle that had resulted in Lynck’s capture and what happened after, but he guessed that whoever had caught him had wanted a fancy kelpie horse. Maybe they didn’t have actual horses in the monster realm, so the only option was to catch a kelpie.

Lynck dished up into two large bowls. “It’s not exactly like home, mostly because I can’t find the same herbs and such, but it’s passable.”

---