Page 47 of Goblins Don't Count
I studied him for another beat before I nodded, trying not to obviously sniff at his shampoo. He smelled so good. And felt so good. And he was cleaning up my raccoon’s revolting existence without making me feel bad about it. “That sounds good.”
He released me and took a step back before turning and heading towards the kitchen off the main room.
Wait, he was going to cook and clean for me? I hurried after him, grabbing his hand, but he just kept walking, like we were holding hands on our way to the kitchen, which was a work of functional art, but somehow still cozy. Maybe it was the fireplace, even though it burbled with lava instead of conventional fire, or maybe it was the herbs hanging from the stone beams. Maybe it was the two cozy chairs pulled up to the lava fireplace, or the basket with a cushion that was just the right size for Mr. Raccoon.
“Do you have a pet?” I asked, studying the cute plaid cushion.
“No. My sister has several, and sometimes she gets me to keep one, hoping I’ll fall in love and ease the loneliness of my existence, but so far, no luck.”
“Ah.” I dropped his hand. “Thanks to my intervention, you are safe from love.” That thought made my heart positively ache. But at least I still had my family. Who might never speak to me again. I shook my head, trying to get rid of the melancholy. I didn’t have time for that. I had work to do. “Let me cook. I don’t like feeling obligated towards you.” I reached for the knife he was pulling out of a rack, but he moved, blocking me with his shoulder. I grabbed his jacket, and he shrugged it off, so I was left with it, but not him.
“Rynne, you’re only staying here temporarily. Perhaps not long enough to know where I keep my knives. I’m very particular about where I keep my knives. You’ve had a long, difficult, tiresome week, so please, take off your shoes, curl up next to the lava, and let me be the host, hm?” He rolled up his white shirt sleeves and started peeling onions, then chopping them with the same dexterity I remembered, except that his current knife was much more suited for it.
I sighed, clutching his jacket to my chest. It smelled like his shampoo. “But you also had a stressful day, if the pile of mangled calculators was any indication.”
He shook his head, not looking up from his onions, which were almost finished. “Not stress, just…” He looked up at me with a slight smile. He looked tired. “Sometimes being the Goblin King is exhausting.”
“You couldn’t just hire an accountant?” I draped his jacket over the back of a chair and went over to see what he was doing. It was peeling a piece of ginger.
“Rynne, sit down.”
“Sashimi, give me something to do, or I’ll start thinking too much, and maybe burst into tears. I’ve been trying not to disappoint my mother for decades.”
“You didn’t disappoint her. She’s just worried about you. Being a police officer is dangerous.”
I snorted. “You didn’t see her face. Anyway, let me do something, otherwise I’ll start tying your hair in knots.”
He glanced at me with a slightly raised brow. “You can’t help but pursue danger. Fine. Sit on this stool and peel potatoes.”
I smiled and sat while he handed me a peeler and a bowl from a shelf of pretty potatoes in jewel-like colors. “Pity to peel off the pretty peelings.”
“More of a pity to skin your pretty fingers. Be careful. Everything is sharp.”
“Even the potatoes?”
He bumped my forehead with his. “Even the potatoes.”
I smiled at him and then peeled the first potato. He was right. The peeler was incredibly sharp. It was nice to sit there with him, working, like we were a real couple or something.
“Do you mind breaking into the court house tonight? We might get caught,” I said, focusing on the blue potato.
“I already offered them my services in anticipation of your desires.”
I whistled, looking at him, impressed. “You’ll get paid for getting your way? I guess that’s getting my way, but still, I bet you know how to game all the systems.”
“Knowing isn’t the same as doing.”
“Ha. That was false modesty, if I’m not mistaken. I’m lucky that you’re on my side.”
“I hope that we are always on the same side.” He dumped the contents of his cutting board into a sizzling pan and then stirred it, the steam surrounding him making him look more magical than usual. For a minute, I just watched him move, so sure, intent, and absolutely competent. It was like his dancing, far too good for a mere mortal.
I blinked and refocused on my work. I wasn’t here to ogle the goblin. I wouldn’t stay here long, just long enough to find my own place to stay. Then we would continue our platonic dating relationship in a less awkward way. He didn’t seem to feel awkward, though. Maybe I was his pet that could help him not be so lonely. If he was lonely. This place didn’t smell like him nearly as much as his office.
“What’s so stressful about being the goblin king?” I asked, then added, “Other than falling in love with a human?”
“Kendry Maldroit is building a bomb to get Firus back as their endless feud continues. I have to adjust it while he’s at the market, to make certain that it goes off with the exact amount of power to do enough damage to satisfy him psychologically without destroying the city. Furia is pursuing Mad Dog tirelessly, which wouldn’t be a problem except that she’s already promised five other men her heart, instigating them to acts of jealousy over her, and she just can’t stop. Mad Dog could kill them all, which is the usual way of things, and then he’d kill anyone else she looked at in the future until she killed him, or settled down. But no, I have to unravel their love mess before Mad Dog starts killing, because I know his genetic makeup, his history, and how likely he’ll stop at just the jealous lovers. He’s very good at killing once he starts.”
I looked up, horrified for him. I leaned over and patted his arm. “But surely you’re clever enough to turn all of these things to your advantage. You can twist the feud into a race to see who can do the most respectable things, who can make the most friends or fabulous seasonal yard display or something. And the girl, Furia, you can discover what her true passion is and set her up as a piano teacher, or a weapons expert, something more than playing with people’s hearts, making her an asset instead of a danger.”
