King of the Wilds - Tasha Black Page 0,15

frame. The men were beautiful and larger than life.

The older ladies around the deep end were unabashedly lowering their sunglasses to have a look, and the whole Rosethorn Valley Swim Club seemed to hold its breath as one.

“Hello, Miranda,” Bron called out in his deep voice.

The ladies around the pool let out their collective breath in a sigh.

Miranda gave a little wave.

Bron beamed at her.

Tabitha and Sara headed out of the pool and back to the umbrella-shaded picnic table, where the guys were already unpacking items from bags and a cooler.

Miranda followed them. By the time she arrived, the whole surface of the table was covered in packages of hot dogs, hamburgers, and buns, as well as every conceivable spread and sauce imaginable, including Worcestershire sauce, pico de gallo and marshmallow fluff.

“Wow, you guys really went all out,” Tabitha said, arching an eyebrow.

“We were both hungry and curious,” Tristan replied.

Tabitha smiled up at him and Miranda could see the love they shared was even warmer than the midday sun.

Dorian had an arm around Sara’s shoulder as they surveyed the varieties of hot dogs to find the right one to grill first.

Miranda felt a pang of aching loneliness.

“Which of these do you like best?” Bron asked, placing a hand on her shoulder.

His warm touch sent a shiver of awareness through her.

“Oh, uh, I love a good burger,” she said.

“Me too,” he chuckled. “That’s one thing you get right in this realm.”

She couldn’t resist glancing up at him.

His green eyes danced as he smiled down at her.

She thought maybe he’d be vegetarian, since he was so into protecting nature. But one glance at his muscular physique was enough to make her forget about that idea. You didn’t get a body like that from kale smoothies.

“Shall we fire up the grill?” Dorian asked, looking uncharacteristically cheerful.

“Let’s do it,” Sara replied.

The process of cooking was drawn-out. The kings were very interested in the grill, but impatient with their own limited abilities, which ultimately led to more than one hot dog bun fight.

As the first of the meals came off the grill, she thought that pretty much the entire population of the kiddie pool had crowded around to see what shenanigans would happen next.

Bron offered meals to the kids and Miranda was shocked to find that the parents around the pool weren’t a bit taken aback. They all waved their kids on to take food from these enormous, boisterous strangers.

By the time the six friends were sitting down at their own picnic table again, half the people at the pool were eating the food the fae kings had shared. Some had even politely added the weird extras to their burgers and dogs.

“This is delicious,” Tristan decided. He was eating a burger that, as far as Miranda could tell, was just a bun full of pickles.

“The fluff is very sticky,” Dorian complained, scowling at his burger.

“I told you not to use so much of it,” Sara scolded. “A little bit goes a long way.”

“Well, I think the pico is great on a hotdog personally,” Tabitha said. “Miranda?”

“Delicious,” Miranda agreed.

Everything about the day had been delicious.

They all got back in the pool for a game of volleyball with some of the other swimmers. And for a while, Miranda didn’t think about work, or monsters, or out of control magical powers.

For a few hours, Miranda just had fun.

8

Miranda

Miranda packed up her things as the crowd at the pool dispersed.

The sun was setting, and there had been no sign of anything out of the ordinary. She guessed that made the day count as a loss for them, but somehow it didn’t feel that way. Miranda thought she’d actually gained quite a bit. For the first time in a long time, she had spent more time talking to real friends instead of buried in her work.

She dreaded the number of messages that must surely be waiting for her, but she was determined not to think about that until she had to.

Just then, a tinkly song began to play, breaking her out of her thoughts.

“Oh my God, the ice cream truck,” Sara breathed.

“Does anyone have any cash?” Tabitha asked, sounding panicky.

“No,” Sara moaned.

“I do,” Miranda said, grabbing her bag. “Come on.”

They dashed past the lap pool.

“No running,” a young male lifeguard called out to them.

They slowed to a speed-walk, and made it across the little bridge over the creek and back to the parking lot as quickly as they could.

Miranda pulled a wad of cash out of her wallet.

“I’m really glad