Page 91 of How to Seduce a Slender

Smith let out a groan before immediately regretting it.

“Or not,” Melody snorted. “Okay, mister fancy taste buds, you make something.”

“Maybe Agatha’s still floating around.” Smith struggled to sit up. It took them both an embarrassingly long time to crawl from the depths of their duvet nest. However, once dressed sloppily in the dark, they emerged from the room. The house glowed in amber, dancing lights. Flames licked up the inside of crystal panes as they took the steps slowly. Smith’s hand never left her opposite hip. The warmth radiating off her left all the buzzing thoughts at bay.

His birthday. All of this happened because of that singular day. Ages ago, eons and entire lifetimes ago, he was summoned here. He had to assume everything she ever told him was a lie.Was her whole intention to summon something the first time? Had it ever been about raising a dog?

Smith couldn’t let the thoughts swarm him. If he allowed himself to get caught in his own windstorm, he would be caught unaware. Smith couldn’t afford another incident like the Hungry One.

Melody rounded the kitchen and the candles crackled to life over their heads. She moved toward the fridge, pulling the pitcher of juice from it while Smith went about setting two plates down for them.

“And what do you two think you’re doing?” Agatha teased, floating out of the pantry with a crusty loaf of bread and a few jars of things all in her apron.

“What areyoudoing?” Melody wiggled her brows suggestively.

“Late night snack.”

“What would it take to convince you to make a late night meal?” Melody placed a hand to her stomach as it growled loudly.

Agatha snorted, handing Smith what she had in her apron. “Here, cut us up some appetizers. I’ll whip us up something filling. Heard you two causing a ruckus upstairs. Couldn’t go more than five inches in this place without someone screaming something.”

“Agatha!” Smith guffawed.

“Oh hush! It wasn’t just you two making a whole entire opera in this house.” Agatha shot him a cheeky look over her ghostly shoulder before floating to the stove. “Melody, be a dear and grab that chicken that’s marinading and the cream, and whatever cheese calls to you from the drawer.”

“Oh-ho-ho! You’re gonna regret that freedom. All cheese calls to me.”

Smith couldn’t help the smile, watching Melody grate cheese next to Agatha while the banshee fried chicken breast in a pan. He served the pair crusty bread with softened butter and jams over it, the three sharing mugs of juice over a kitchen counter. It almost made him forget that doom loomed over their heads. For a while, he was just Smith, leaning over the counter, feeding Melody chunks of bread while she cut up strands of pasta dough that Agatha already had resting.As if she knew…which she probably did.

Once their ooey, gooey, alfredo pasta with roasted chunks of tomato and seared chicken was piled in bowls, Smith sat with Melody. While hecouldeat some, he didn’t. Melody noticed he didn’t have a bowl and furrowed her brows. “You don’t want some?”

“Thank you, but I’m staring down my full meal right now,” he grinned, splitting his face in half.

Melody gulped loudly, “Smith, I don’t think I could-oh! You mean my dreams! Got it!”

Agatha cackled to herself, twirling her fork in the pasta. Smith shot her a look that the banshee fully ignored. He spared a hand to Melody’s back and rubbed it tenderly. “What did you think I meant?”

“I was worried you were trying to seduce me again! And as much as I will climb you like a tree any time of day. I don’t think my ass would forgive me. Among other parts of my anatomy.” She flushed a bright cherry as she stabbed at her sloppy noodles.

Smith chuckled, nodding softly. “Noted. Fear not, sweet girl, I meant your dreams.”

Melody tucked away her shy smile, clearly saving all her best lines for when Agatha wasn’t around. Unfortunately, much like Sebastian, Agatha heard all. The only difference was Agatha snooped, Sebastian was just a Lich.

“So, Smith, your birthday is coming up. What do you want for it?” Agatha threw him under the bus just as he’d been about to give her credit.

“Your birthday!” Melody gasped.

“I! Wasn’t! Born!” Smith ground between smacks to the table.

“Semantics!” Agatha huffed, waving the comment away. “What do you want? A pony?”

“We have plenty of nightmares in this house,” Smith retorted.

“Hey!” Melody whined, pouting into her pasta. “I just got here.”

“Not including yourself,” Smith retorted, leaning over to her, and pressing a kiss to her shoulder.

“Well, if not a pretty pony, what do you want?” Agatha teased.

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