Page 18 of MidKnight
His hand came to rest on my cheek. “I feel like I’m getting to know a new you. And yet, you’re the same. Does that make sense?” A slight blush crept over his cheeks.
I put my hand on top of his. “I feel the same. I still love you, Cee. It’s just … now, I get to have the fun of falling in love with you all over again.”
He smiled.
The things his smile did to me—my heart grew warm and fuzzy. My thoughts sparkled. He’d always had this effect on me. He’d always been able to make the world around him recede. So that nothing mattered but the two of us. I sighed and grinned, content for the moment just to bask in his attention.
We were back together. Circling one another like binary stars. Shining. The connection between us felt like a living thing. It pulsed and pulled me toward him. I couldn’t resist those sea-foam eyes. I leaned over and was about to kiss Connor again.
But Meralda, our cook, cleared her throat. “Your Majesty, normally I might clear the kitchen for a moment for you. But with Rasle here we’re working all hours—”
I laughed, unlacing my fingers from Connor’s so I could pat her shoulder. “You’re fine, Meralda. I’ll behave. And if you need more help, send someone down to the capital to round up a few extra hands. I’ll tell Jorad it’s approved.”
Meralda ducked her head and bowed, nearly forgetting to give us the platter of food in her hands. “Thank you, Your Majesty.”
I nodded and smiled as she set the plate down between us.
Connor stared down at the meal suspiciously. “You’d rather eat this than marzipan cakes?” He touched the dark brown bread suspiciously, as if it’d bite him.
I grinned and shrugged, suddenly feeling a little uncertain about my choice. “I wanted to show you something else you didn’t know about me.”
“Your taste buds have died?” he teased.
I pretended to smack his arm, but he captured my hand and kissed the back of it.
“Thank you,” his voice was low and breathy, so he couldn’t be overheard by the kitchen staff who were trying to work inconspicuously at the edges of the room. “Thank you for sharing this part of you with me.”
I nodded. My throat was too tight to speak.
“So,” Connor continued lightly, aware of our audience, “this is what you ate when you were on the road?”
“It became my favorite. A midday meal after a hard morning of … searching.”
“Well then—” Connor scooped up the bread and a bit of cheese. He took large bites of both. His eyes went wide as he chewed. His entire face worked, stretching and scrunching.
I rolled my eyes. “It’s not that hard.” I kicked at him from my chair.
He grinned playfully. “I think I cracked a tooth.” He opened his mouth and pointed, the big ball of mush still quite visible.
“Gross!”
He swallowed and pouted. “I’m not joking. It hwerts,” he made little-boy eyes at me.
“Alright three-year-old, let me see,” I leaned closer.
Connor snuck a quick closed-mouth kiss before sweeping me up onto his lap. He wrapped his arms around my waist and leaned his head against my side. “I love that you’re my wife.”
I wrapped my arms around his neck and let my fingers play with his curls. “I love it, too.”
He pulled me in for a kiss and then stood, sweeping his arms under my legs. “I think I’m full.”
“You only had a bite.”
“Still,” he shrugged, his eyes glittering with mischief, “I think I’d rather be done with my first dessert and move on to the next.”
He carried me out of the kitchen, nodding his chin toward a couple dishwashers who catcalled at us.
When we made it to the hall, a few of my guards discreetly began to follow us.
