Page 26 of A Bridge to a Troll's Heart
The answering smile that blossomed on Toby’s face was all the confirmation Arlo could wish for.
CHAPTER9
Feast of Thanks
Toby
“Please?”Toby gazed up through his lids. He knew Arlo was a sucker for that tactic. “It would only be for one day. We could put up a sign?”
“Saying what?” Arlo crossed his arms over his big, burly chest.
Toby wanted to climb him like a tree but not until he got what he wanted from this conversation.
“Troll is away on holiday. Please leave your tribute on the bridge,” he suggested with a pleading look, eyes wide.
Arlo wasn’t easy to convince. “But what if they don’t? What if they sneak past without so much as a cower?”
Toby didn’t see how that mattered, but he knew the trespass hit differently for Arlo. “Well, would that be so bad?”
Arlo grunted.
“You do have a fine collection of tributes already.” Toby saw a flicker of pride cross Arlo’s face. “But what you don’t have is a good story of sitting down to a massive feast with me and my family.”
Arlo’s gaze shifted far away.
Good. Let him picture the scene. Surely, Arlo would come to the right conclusion. Leaving the bridge unattended for a few hours would mean they could spend the holiday together. And maybe after he’d done it once, Arlo could be convinced to leave the bridge more often. Maybe come back for Christmas…maybe stay in Toby’s cottage for a night…or forever.
“A troll cannot leave his post. It isn’t done.” Arlo’s words were stubborn, but his expression showed he was wavering.
Toby pounced on the kernel of doubt. “Arlo, this is a chance for you to make your own rules. Rules that make sense foryouinstead of other people. I’m not like other wolves. Maybe you will be happier if you let yourself not be like other trolls.”
Arlo considered this, his blue eyes focused. He had a habit of chewing the inside of his cheek when in deep thought, which Toby usually found endearing, but at the moment, it only meant Arlo remained undecided.
Time to lay it on extra thick.
“Surry will be cooking pumpkin pies…” Toby left the words to hang in the chilly winter air between them.
Arlo crumbled. “Pumpkin pies?”
Toby nodded. “And apple spice cake too. Plus Grandmother’s mashed potatoes and fluffy, buttery rolls and—”
“All right, you win. I’ll do it,” said Arlo with a determined grunt. “I’ll leave my bridge and come to your family’s feast with you.”
Toby let out a whoop of victory. He ran to Arlo, intending to jump into the troll’s arms, but Arlo stopped him short with his hand on Toby’s chest, fingers splayed wide.
Toby blinked. “What?”
Arlo peered down at him with raised brows. “I’m going to need that sign.”
Toby chuckled. “I’ll take care of it. Promise.”
“We could ask Arthur to paint it.”
“Yes, good idea.” Toby stared pointedly at the hand on his chest. “Can I have a cuddle now, then?”
Arlo narrowed his gaze and pursed his lips, but Toby knew it was all for show. A low growl rumbled in his chest. The second Arlo moved his hand, Toby was in his arms and clambering up for kisses.
“Take me to bed,” murmured Toby with a grin. “Let’s celebrate.”
