Page 22 of Viking
“Here.”He reached around me, his arm brushing mine as he pressed the button with practiced ease.The machine hummed to life, lights blinking as it began to heat.“It’s temperamental.”
“Thanks.”I was acutely aware of his proximity, the way he smelled of soap and something woodsy.“I was about to give up and make tea instead.”
“Blasphemy,” he rumbled, the hint of a smile softening his features.He turned toward the table.“Morning, little one.”
Athena didn’t respond, but she watched him with the same intensity she’d watched me, her small fingers tightening around Hopper.
“I’m making pancakes,” I said, returning to the bowl of unmixed batter.“There’s enough for you if you want some.”
“Wouldn’t turn down homemade pancakes.”Viking moved to the cabinet above my head, retrieving mugs with ease that made me feel small and awkward in comparison.“How’d you sleep?”
“Better than expected,” I admitted, whisking the batter with more force than necessary.“Your house is quiet compared to mine.No traffic sounds.”
“One of the perks of living off the main road.”He leaned against the counter, watching me work.“You need help with that?”
I shook my head.“I’ve got it.Though I’m not sure where your frying pan is…”
Without a word, he opened a lower cabinet and produced a cast-iron skillet, setting it on the stove with a heavyclunk.We moved around each other in the small kitchen space, a domestic dance that felt strangely natural despite the circumstances.He poured coffee while I poured batter.I reached for plates as he grabbed silverware from the drawer.Like we’d done this a hundred times before.
When the first pancakes were ready, I set a small plate in front of Athena, the pancake cut into bite-sized pieces with a drizzle of syrup.To my surprise, she pointed at the food, then at Viking’s empty plate.
“You want Viking to have pancakes too?”I asked.
She nodded.
“Well, look at that,” Viking said, his voice gentler than I’d ever heard it.“Thank you, Athena.I’d love some pancakes.”
I served him a stack, our fingers brushing as I passed the plate.The contact sent a ridiculous flutter through my stomach, like I was fifteen again, mooning over my brother’s best friend.
“You’re good with her,” Viking observed, nodding toward Athena, who was carefully picking up each pancake piece with her fingers, Hopper sitting in her lap.
“I teach preschool,” I reminded him.“I’ve had lots of practice.”
“It’s more than that.”He took a sip of his coffee, watching me over the rim of the mug.“You’ve got mothering instincts.She trusts you.”
I felt my cheeks warm at the compliment.“I don’t know about that.She barely speaks to me.”
“She doesn’t need to.Look how she watches you, follows your lead.”His eyes, bluer than I remembered, held mine.“You’re doing good, Karoline.Better than good.”
Something in the way he said my name made my heart trip over itself.This wasn’t the Viking who’d patted my head and called me “Little Kringle” all those years ago.This was a man looking at a woman, and the realization was both thrilling and terrifying.
“I should get going,” he said, breaking the moment as he stood to rinse his plate.“I have a meeting this morning.Tempest wants to review security protocols in light of…” He glanced at Athena, censoring himself.“You know.”
I nodded, disappointed despite myself.“We’ll be fine here.”
“There’s a barbecue over near the clubhouse this afternoon,” he said, grabbing his cut from the back of a chair.“Nothing fancy, just burgers and dogs, but there’ll be other kids there.Might be good for Athena.”
“That sounds nice,” I said, trying to picture my quiet niece among the children of bikers.
Before heading out, Viking surprised me by kneeling down to Athena’s level.His massive frame seemed to shrink, making himself less intimidating as he caught her eye.
“Thank you for sharing your pancakes, Athena,” he said, his voice rumbling low and gentle.“I’ll see you at the barbecue later, okay?Maybe we can find you a cookie for dessert.”
Athena studied him, her expression serious, before giving him the tiniest of nods.Not quite a smile, but something close to acceptance.
“All right then.”He stood, adjusting his cut.“I’ll see you both later.”
After the door closed behind him, I found myself staring at the empty space where he’d been, wondering at the way he’d transformed from the intimidating biker who’d met us at the gate to this man who knelt for a child and noticed things like “mothering instincts.”The Viking I’d known years ago had been Kris’s golden giant of a friend, someone who’d ruffled my hair and treated me like a kid sister.This Viking was… something else entirely.
