Page 15 of Prince of the Northwest Forest
I shake my head. “On the house.”
He gives me a warm look. “Thank you.”
Kalle moves very little. It’s astonishing. He doesn’t check his phone, and I’m wondering if he even has one. He doesn’t fidget. He just … looks out at the plaza and watches people going by, as alert as can be. Coffee, no distractions, no conversations.
It’s like he’s rawdogging his life.
My brain whispers:I know someone he can rawdog.
Shut up, brain.
The following morning, after taking myself in hand in the shower while thinking about a tall hunk of my dreams who wears a hood and carries a sword, I cross the courtyard on my way to the café and spot said tall hunk of my dreams trimming the azalea bushes. He’s even better in person than he is as spank bank material. Something about him makes my body zing.
He doesn’t notice me as I pass by, but I swear the pigeons around the fountain bow down to him. I rub my eyes. I need coffee. I must be seeing things.
I breeze into the café, where there’s already a line, as usual. I tie on my apron and join Daryl and Sam behind the counter.
Just another normal, regular day of work. Except it ends up being excruciating, because all I want to do is talk to Kalle. Every time a customer walks in, I hope it’s him.
It’s … illogical.
Where is Kalle?
Dammit.Stop thinking of him.I need to get away.
“I’m going to go pick up some more paper towels,” I tell Daryl. I head over to the hotel lobby, where there’s a supply closet in the restroom. I push the bathroom door open and halt.
Two guys are so wrapped up in each other’s arms, it’s like they’re one person. I’ve seen both of them around here for a while—at least a month. One is Théo, who has a French accent and dresses like he’s some kind of gothic Victorian dude. He also makes an amazing crème renversée au caramel for the café. The other dresses straight out of the eighties and has an unearthly vibe to him. At least, that’s what they’re like on their own.
Now, though, they’re kissing the hell out of each other, Théo grabbing the ass of the eighties dude. They break apart upon hearing me enter.
“Sorry to interrupt,” I say. And bite back a grin.
At least someone’s getting some.
… which brings my brain back to Kalle again. Boy, my dreams were spicy last night. I really need to tone down my imagination.
“Sorry, Justice,” Théo says. “We, um, we were …”
I shrug off his concerns. “All good.” I open the closet with my key, grab what I need, and head back to the café.
Kalle never walks into Café Magnifique at all today. So when my shift is over, I’m raring to go on a hike. Time to try yet another route. I’m not going to stop until I find the Fae Realm.
I walk along the Dorricott River for about half an hour, stopping frequently to scan for mushrooms. Then I notice a figure headed my way. I squint, and … it’s Kalle. Accompanied by that moose or elk or whatever and a fox.
I wave at him. “Hey, how’s it going? It’s Justice. From Café Magnifique.”
Kalle nods, the fabric of his hood shading his face. “Yes, Justice. It’s good to see you. What are you doing in my, uh, the forest?”
“I usually go for a hike most days. I thought I’d check out Tassiya Meadows today.”
“May I accompany you?” he asks, making my heart race for reasons that have nothing to do with exercise. He closes his eyes and seems to second-guess himself. “I don’t want to invite myself along if you didn’t want company.”
He wants to join me. A pleasurable shiver passes through my body. “No, you’d be welcome. Just … aren’t you coming from there?”
“No, I bypassed it. I was meeting with some subj—friends.”
He’s a prince. “Fair enough. Sure, come along.” I make a welcoming gesture.
