Page 27 of The Gargoyle's Grace
He chuckled. “Well, it seems there are some innovations the stone kin can claim yet. No tub. We’re too big, and it takes too much time to fill—we get impatient. This sprays down on you like concentrated rain. Hot water of course, but no soaking in your own debris once you start washing. It just goes down into a drain under the hut and a distance away before filtering into the soil.”
“That’s…” I had nothing further to say. My head tilted to the side as I considered how that would work.
A true gentleman despite his laughter, Magnus switched on the water so it would run as hot as possible, ducked under the forceful spray, then stuck a hand out for me. “Come on, Little Rabbit. You’ll be fine.”
My skepticism about the plumbing was exceptionally short lived. The hot spray was dreamy as it sluiced over my body and through my hair. Magnus efficiently plucked the leaves and debris from my hair before scrubbing it with some very fragrant shampoo. Then he took the same care to remove all the dirt from my flesh.
He stood outside the warm spray, where I’d no doubt be shivering, water droplets running down his tanned chest, muscles rolling hypnotically under his skin as he lavished me with his gentle ministrations. While Magnus washed me, his touch was intimate but not incendiary. There was no part of me he didn’t ensure was clean, and the multitude of aches and pains I’d acquired were all accounted for under his fingertips.
Perhaps we both needed a moment to breathe after the result of our chase.
Once we were both clean, he wrapped me in a towel and took me off to the bed, tucking me under the puffy blankets as he gathered up enough food for a whole other meal. There’d been a lovely suspended reality quality to our time in the forest, and the hut was no different. It was dark outside, but the lack of distinction left it a mystery whether it was simply evening or the middle of the night.
The fire crackled low as he sat with his back propped against the iron footboard, facing me. His legs were crossed, a platter of items on the coverlet between us.
“Do you cook often?”
He shook his head. “I get by but no. I’m so rarely in the same place for long stretches I’ve gotten quite used to relying on others to take care of my meals. Present company being my absolute favorite option, of course.”
“No need for that kind of flattery, I’m already in your bed,” I teased. “But truly, you’re good at it. I’m sure you have a treasure trove of recipes for things I’ve never heard of. Maybe we could come to an arrangement?”
“I like the sound of that,” he rumbled.
Heaviness settled in my limbs, a peaceful exhaustion weighed me down as I sampled the snacks and sipped at my wine.
“Ygritte was always the cook,” Magnus said, looking off into the fire nostalgically, “but my son Coltor is the most dedicated chef in our family. He can take field rations and turn them into gourmet meals. It’s baffling.”
I couldn’t help but smile. This was the part of Magnus I adored most. He was clearly completely dedicated to his children. “Will they be coming to the city again soon?”
He grinned broadly. “Yes, I believe so. My girls were quite taken with Calla. They love the idea of a new cousin to teach stone kin things to.”
“And the boys?”
“I hope so. Their assignments will all be terming out soon. It’s been quite some time since we were all together for longer than a few days.”
My mind wandered to a place I hadn’t expected, where I worried about what his children would think of me. Of the fact that their father had taken a new woman into his bed. I worried how they might feel about me not just being human but also decades younger than any of them. It was an awkward feeling, and my stomach twisted.
“Grace?” Magnus asked softly. “Where did you go, Little Rabbit? Have I said something wrong?”
“No.” I shook my head. “Why?”
“You’re frowning. Intensely.”
“Am I?” I touched my chin with my fingertips, focused on the concern in his eyes. “I was thinking about your children,” I admitted. “What they might think of… this.” I gestured between us.
Magnus reached out and took my hand into his. “It’s none of their concern,” he said solemnly. “But I’d like to think they’d be happy for me. For you. It’s not every day that one finds a soul mate.”
I blinked at the word. “Is that what I am?”
“Yes,” he answered. No hesitation. No doubt.
“How do you know?”
Magnus slid off the bed, hastily clearing the dishes. When he returned, he cuddled in close to my side. My head rested in the divot where his chest and shoulder met, his heartbeat loud and strong under my ear.
“I feel it,” he said finally. “That sounds overly simple, but it’s true. You’re imbedded in my soul, Grace. My heart knows when you’re near. It beats differently than it did before it recognized you as belonging to me. Do you feel it?”
I closed my eyes, the sentiment in his words overwhelming me. My own heart squeezed in response. “Not like that, but yes.”
