Page 73 of Perfectly Petite Shorts
I considered my own parentage. I could not recall the last time I spoke with my mother or father. My distance was not due to any contempt. It was merely how things were done. Fairies lived incredibly long lives. We moved here and there, and we were fiercely independent. Children were rare. They were also precious and cared for. My parents were very loving when I’d been a child. It was not that their love had necessarily dimmed but had changed.
Todrik’s kicking feet stilled, and he sat forward before slumping, elbows on knees. “Why do you think Jamila left theland to those two? Knowing what they’re like, I… She had to have known what they’d do. Or at least that they wouldn’t appreciate it like she did.”
Tired of staring at little more than the crown of Todrik’s head and feeling the odd need to be closer, I sat beside him. Within a second, Todrik’s smaller frame leaned against me, his head resting on my shoulder. I had no experience comforting another, and yet that is all I longed to do.
“I have no idea why your witch left the land to them. Perhaps she hoped they would grow to love it as she did. Maybe it was her final, desperate attempt to instill a bit of herself into her children.”
Todrik sighed while leaning more of his weight against me. “Do you really think so? I mean, that sounds like something Jamila might do…or at least how she might have hoped things would play out.”
“As I said, I do not know. Considering I never met Jamila, you know her far better than me. If you believe it is plausible, then so be it.”
Todrik’s body shook against me. I was nearly beside myself thinking he was crying, but soon soft chuckles drifted into the air as his laughter danced free. “Gaia, you suck at consoling others.”
A frown tugged my lips. “Apologies. Consoling others is not something I am familiar with.”
Todrik squeezed my bicep, twisting his head so I could look into his pale green eyes. His light pink eyelashes kissed his cheeks when he blinked, and his peach-colored lips were soft with his gentle grin. “I know. That’s what makes your current efforts with me mean so much. Thank you, Hamish. You’re not at all who I thought you were.”
As Todrik’s eyelashes fluttered closed, I watched his peaceful expression soften to slumber. Todrik was wrong. I was exactly who he’d thought I was. At least, that is who Iwas with everyone else. That wasn’t who I wanted to be with him.
Todrik
I woke with another headache. It was probably the same one I’d gone to bed with, the same one I’d had for the last six days. Rolling to the side, I flung my arm out only to find the bed empty. I’d learned that Hamish rarely slept. He said time moved differently on Earth than in the Fairy realm and that he didn’t need a lot of rest while here.
My fingers bunched the silken sheets, balling them up and squeezing tight. It was strange how quickly I’d gotten used to Hamish’s presence. When he was gone, I missed him, and when he was here, it was like we’d known each other all our lives instead of a mere two weeks. So far, Hamish hadn’t acted like I was a bother. Quite the opposite.
Despite my odd fatigue, I grinned at the thought. While I missed my land, staying with Hamish hadn’t been a hardship. I only wished I felt well enough to enjoy my stay. I desperately wanted to wander Hamish’s land but couldn’t seem to muster the energy to do so.
I’d thought bringing my dirt here would be enough. It was for most dryads. Maybe I was different?
I had no idea what time it was. The sun was shining brightly outside so it had to be at least late morning. Early morning was one of my favorite times of day, but the last few days I’d slept too late to enjoy the sun’s early rays. Even now I found it difficult to stir. I had no appetite, no pep, and absolutely no desire to do anything but lay in bed.
“I need to get up,” I said to the empty air. I wasn’t sure why that was true. Hamish didn’t need my help with my case, and there was little else for me to do. I’d offered to clean, cook, or do something else Hamish might findhelpful, but he’d rebuffed every offer. He’d said knowing I was safe was enough.
My cheeks heated. Thoughts of Hamish often did that now. He was so much kinder than I’d originally thought. Although, kinder might not be the right word. Hamish was gentler with his words, or at least more cautious. I got the feeling he put a lot of thought into his words and actions, like he was attempting to be more considerate when it came to me and that it was difficult for him. I think that’s what got under my skin. It wasn’t easy for Hamish, yet he was making the effort. That meant something. What thatsomethingwas, I wasn’t entirely certain.
I’d caught more than a few interesting expressions when Hamish didn’t think I was watching. I got the feeling I puzzled him or that there was something about me that he found curious. He had a fierce desire to protect me that I didn’t understand. I couldn’t believe he typically brought others into his home. Granted, I wasn’t certain how many cases he’d had where his client had been threatened, but I hardly believed I was the only one.
Hamish was a fairy. By definition, they were beautiful creatures. Few things were as certain as a fairy’s beauty, power, and ruthlessness. Hamish was all those things, and yet he’d proved to be so much more as well.
Inhaling deeply, I released that breath in a long sigh. Nothing good could come of such thoughts or from getting too attached. I was a simple dryad. While dryads weren’t a dime a dozen, they weren’t anything terribly special either. At least not when compared to other species. I wasn’t knocking my species, and I certainly wasn’t complaining that Jamila’s love and magic had transformed me into a dryad. What I was doing was being realistic. If I hadn’t walked into Hamish’s office and irritated the shit out of him by endlessly ringing that bell, he wouldn’t have looked twice at me.
With that depressing thought in mind, I pushed my body up, forcing myself to sit. A wave of dizziness swept over me, and I closed my eyes against the rolling images falsely churning in the room.
“Shit.” Forehead cradled in the palm of my hand, I waited for the dizziness to abate and my breathing to steady. I was so tired of feeling, well…tired. More than tired. I was exhausted and weak.
Easing my legs over the edge of the bed, I shakily stood and made my way to the bathroom. After relieving myself, I headed for the kitchen. Hamish wasn’t there, but he was outside on the porch, laptop at his side. I’d never heard of a fairy who used human technology the way Hamish did.
“What time is it?” I asked as I walked toward Hamish. He looked good in his tailored suit. I rarely saw him in anything less posh. His dark green hair was left free today, trailing down his back, the ends resting on the patio.
“A little before noon,” Hamish answered. “You still aren’t feeling well,” he said without glancing up from his computer screen.
I rubbed the back of my neck and answered, “Not the best, no.”
Hamish closed his laptop and stood, the move annoyingly graceful. “The dirt we brought from your land is not sufficient for your health.” Hamish moved closer. His fingertips ghosted across my cheek, making my eyelids flutter. When I opened them again, it was to find Hamish staring at me, his lips thin and gaze narrowed. “The dirt should have been sufficient, at least for the short term. I do not understand why it is not.”
I didn’t either. “Maybe it really is something special in the place itself, not just the dirt.” I shrugged. “Maybe Jamila did something we’re not aware of. I mean, if she could transform me into a dryad, who’s to say she didn’t change other things.”
Hamish didn’t appear completely convinced but, in theend, he conceded. “Perhaps. Regardless, you cannot continue as you are.” Hamish stepped away rubbing the fabric over his chest. I’d caught him doing that more and more recently, as if he were uncomfortable. I’d asked once, and he’d informed me it was nothing for me to be concerned about. Maybe I should have pushed it, but I hated to be a rude guest.
