Wings of the Walker - CoraLee June Page 0,105

flutter with anticipation.

“This is Norman and Peter.” As Lois introduced them, she held her arm out in a clumsy misplaced bow that made me flush hot with awkward embarrassment.

Norman had blond hair and a crooked smile. His thick muscles were hidden beneath a baggy emerald shirt. Black residue clung to the skin on the tips of his fingers, hinting that he worked in the mines. Peter was thin with dark hair and wide eyes. He had two dimples and a mischievous grin.

“Hello, Norman and Peter, are you here to order something?” I asked, my tone forced and polite. Huxley clutched the edge of the countertop, while Patrick looked at me with mild amusement.

“Well, we’re actually here to call upon you, Mistress. We’ve heard all about your beauty from Mistress Caverly, but I must say, my hopes and dreams were but a hazy prayer compared to your natural glow,” Peter said with a bow.

Norman cringed in embarrassment. They seemed to be complete opposites, and yet they were both calling on me. Together. When in Dormas, I guess.

“I’m so sorry to break it to you, Peter, but Ashleigh is spoken for,” Patrick said while getting off his stool. He walked around the counter and wrapped a thick arm around me.

I dropped my mouth open in surprise. Ever the opportunist, Patrick saw my opened mouth and swooped up a dollop of icing before plopping it onto my tongue. I closed my lips over his finger and licked up the sugary thick icing in a bold reflex that reminded me of the night of our almost-kiss on my birthday.

Lois emitted a shrill squeal of excitement. I watched as her fingers twitched at her side. She itched to grab her tablet and call everyone within a thirty-mile radius to gossip about this new revelation.

“Oh my! Please forgive me, Patrick, I assumed your relationship was more of a friendly nature. I didn’t realize she was in a courtship with anyone, is it just you? Or…?” she asked while peering at Huxley.

“That’s because we’ve been keeping it quiet. Ashleigh is very shy, aren’t you sweetheart?” Patrick asked while squeezing my hip.

“Ye-Yes.” The room suddenly felt very hot, and I felt Huxley’s exasperated stare on me and Patrick.

“And by ‘we’ you mean . . .?” Lois dug further. She seemed determined to be the first to crack open the juicy gossip and share with anyone that listened. Norman and Peter looked wildly uncomfortable. I noticed them shuffling farther and farther away from my counter.

“By ‘we’ I mean the entire Dormas Leadership Council,” Patrick said with a serious face. Once again, I was shocked. I opened my mouth to disagree; Patrick didn’t need to lie to these people. I was more than capable of letting these men down on my own.

“Actually—" I began.

“Actually, Ash was just going to help us deliver these pastries to the mine,” Huxley jumped in while standing up. He walked over to my would-be suitors and shook their hands with much more force than necessary, causing Norman and Peter to frantically excuse themselves. Their whispered fighting was heard as they left the store. I quickly iced and boxed up the remaining pastries, then fled Lois’ questioning stare with Huxley and Patrick.

Once out of earshot, I yelled at Patrick. “What on earth was that?!” I scolded. Patrick was walking backwards, facing me and Huxley. He didn’t even have the decency to look ashamed, if anything, he appeared pleased .

“Whatever do you mean?” Patrick asked. He looked way too proud of himself. Huxley simply grumbled under his breath and pounded the ground with his feet.

“I mean,” I began. “Telling Lois and those guys that I—I’m, uh, courting all of you,” I said with much less steam than before. I felt an embarrassing flush cover my cheeks, and if I weren’t holding boxes of pastries, I might have covered my face with my hands. I found it so strange that, already, this was an idea I found appealing.

“Ah. Yes, well, I’ve learned that in order for something to come to fruition, one must face their desires head on.” Patrick gave me a wink as he turned around and got in step with us.

“What does that even mean?” I asked incredulously.

“It means,” Huxley began, “that my brother is a presumptuous dick.”

I chuckled as Patrick debated on dropping his box of pastries and punching Hux. “It means, that whatever happens, happens,” Patrick said, causing Hux to growl again.

“I thought I was supposed to treat you all like my brothers—" I