Page 23 of Fated to the Grumpy Dragon
Chapter Eleven
Emma
Rhyse hadn’t mentioned thesecondscale. The one on the back of my shoulder. I touched it, again surprised by the pliable nature of something that felt as if it should be extremely rigid. It made sense there would be two. The harpoon had gone through me, leaving entry and exit wounds. I just hadn’t thought about it that way.
Until I saw it and the twin on the front of my shoulder.
I showered, taking my time, exploring the scale, trying to find a seam between it and my skin, and failing. It was perfectly adhered. A part of me now as if it had always been that way.
When the water finally ran clear instead of red, I got out and toweled off. At the door, as he’d promised, were some oversized sweats and a t-shirt that wasn’t as thick as I’d hoped, making it very clear I wasn’t wearing a bra when I put it on. Like the rest of my clothes, my bra, too, was unsalvageable. I would have to go without for now.
“How do you feel?” Rhyse asked as I stepped back into the rear of the house, admiring the view once more.
I covered a yawn and stretched, showing off my range of motion. “Pretty good,” I said, lifting both hands above my head.
A surge ofsomethinghot came shooting through my mind as Rhyse clenched his jaw, giving me a simple nod in response. Then he looked away.
“Really?” I said, lowering my arms as I was finally able to identify what it was he was feeling.
“Sorry. I just …” He shook his head. “Never mind.”
For a moment, I pondered what it was he’d been about to say. The obvious desire as my nipples showed through the shirt was easy to decipher now that I’d felt it, but there had been something else, somethingmore, that he’d been about to say. But what?
I didn’t give him much trouble for staring at my boobs. He was hardly the first guy to do so. Being short with large breasts for your frame meant it came with the territory.
And it wasn’t as if I hadn’t caught myself staring at his arms on more than one occasion. Or admiring the firmness of his stomach when he was carrying me …
Now, I had to cut my thoughts off. I glanced at Rhyse quickly. I thought I saw him erase a smile from his face, but it happened so quickly it was impossible to be sure.
“By the way,” he said, gesturing out to the table beyond, “are you hungry?”
“Yes,” I said, giving a credible impression of a football linebacker as I shouldered him out of the way in my mad rush to serve myself.
Rhyse had set out an array of fresh sliced meats, cheeses, and all the toppings necessary to fix myself a glorious submarine sandwich.
Or rather, two of them, I decided, piling my plate high and moving to sit down.
“No, we’ll go outside,” he said, gesturing. “I set up a table so we can eat and enjoy the view before the storm gets here.”
“Storm?” I followed his outstretched arm—the one with the wondrously corded muscles—as he pointed.
The clouds I’d noticed earlier had grown thicker and darker on the horizon. They were still a way off, but he was right. It was coming.
We sat down and dug in. Both of us were hungry, clearly. Rhyse had three sandwiches on his plate, each piled higher than mine. I arched an eyebrow, but he just shrugged and ate faster.
“So, you really did save me,” I said after finishing my first. “I was going to die back there.”
“You nearly did.”
“And if it weren’t for you, I would have,” I said, touching the scale through the t-shirt. “You healed me. Just like that.”
“You’re doing well with it all,” he said, sitting back, with two sandwiches having already disappeared into the maw that was his mouth.
I laughed. Just doing that nearly broke me.
Rhyse frowned as a hint of what was bubbling just beneath the surface managed to escape with the giggle.
“No, I’m not. I’m just trying to keep it together, Rhyse. And minute by minute, I’m failing.”
