Achim covered Cosmo’s mouth with his hand, muffling any further attempt at words. “You forget yourself. I’m sure there’s an iceberg out there somewhere with your name on it. Don’t tempt me to leave you there until you cool down.”
Brooks wrapped his arm around Toby’s shoulder and guided him past the now grumpy-looking faun and equally annoyed hellhound. A waitress worked to clear the booth for them, and Brooks greeted her with a smile. “Hey, Shelly. How’s Ryan?”
“Perfect as always, although he’s picked up his papa’s habit of leaving his socks all over the house. I’m gonna have to take drastic action if they don’t cut it out.”
“I heard that!” a bellow came from a cut-through window leading to the kitchen, and a really cranky-looking man poked his head out. “And when my feet get hot, I take my socks off.”
Shelly huffed and turned to finish wiping down the table. “Boys.”
Brooks grinned and guided Toby onto the leather seat. Their backs were against the wall, leaving the bar open to their view. Toby let out a breath, feeling more comfortable than he had a few moments before.
“Shelly, this is Toby. My mate. He’s new to all this.”
“Oh honey. You need a drink, don’t ya? I remember when I figured it out. Whew. But now it’s second nature. You’ll get there too. I’ll have this big lug give you my number. You call me anytime, okay?”
Toby nodded, wondering once more why everyone seemed to immediately accept Brooks’s word that they were mates. No one seemed to question it or wonder why a human was brought into this world. He decided to ask after Shelly took their drink orders and handed over a menu.
“You be sure to bring him for the Sunday special,” Shelly said.
“I will,” Brooks said. He handed the menu to Toby with a grin. “They only serve bar food during the week, but Walt makes a Sunday special that will change your life. It’s different every week, and he’ll never say what he’s making in advance.”
Toby smiled before turning his attention to the menu. He found several things that sounded good. “What do you want?” Toby asked.
“I’m thinking nachos, but we’ll get ’em with no tomatoes. You like salsa?”
Toby nodded.
“Then we’ll do extra salsa. The wings are great.”
“I don’t do meat with bones,” Toby said, waiting for Brooks to react.
He didn’t, though. “No wings, then. How about the potato skins? We’ll junk food it up tonight?”
“And eat broccoli tomorrow?”
Brooks huffed. “Can’t believe you accused me of eating cauliflower pizza. And raw eggs.” He huffed again, but his eyes sparkled with laughter.
“Hey, it could have been true.”
After Shelly took their food order, Toby glanced around the room once more. Now that he knew, he could almost see the differences. “Some of these people are… people? Right?”
“Fully human, yes.”
“But not all of them.”
Brooks nodded.
“So humans are allowed to know, but not all humans, right? That’s what Achim meant earlier?”
Brooks nodded again.
“None of this makes sense.”
“It will,” Brooks said softly. He laid his hand on Toby’s knee beneath the table and gave it a gentle squeeze. “I promise.”
And Toby shouldn’t believe him. But he did.
He took a deep breath and blew it out. He also resisted the urge to slide a tiny bit closer to Brooks so they would be pressed even closer together. His brain was a very confusing place, and Brooks was making it even worse. Or better. Toby really couldn’t decide, which was a pretty clear indicator of the roller coaster of emotions he was attempting to process.
They passed the next couple of hours answering questions from a really obnoxious first-date quiz Toby discovered on the internet. He found Brooks to be everything he appeared. Charming, funny, a little awkward, ridiculously hot.
When they’d cleared the plates of food—which was absolutely as delicious as Brooks promised, even if the guy who cooked them terrified Toby with the way he screamed out of the window every so often—Brooks guided Toby back out to his truck.
Brooks touched Toby’s neck, his big, warm hand a comforting presence. “Let’s get you back to the cottage.”
Toby’s stomach flipped nervously, and his palms began to sweat. Brooks didn’t seem to notice as they drove back toward the cottage. After parking the truck, Brooks turned to face him.
“May I walk you to the door?”
So formal. So old-fashioned. So perfect.
“Y-yes,” Toby stammered.
Brooks grinned and hopped out of the truck. He hurried around and opened Toby’s door for him, then