thought it over, still holding Gwyn’s hand and feeling pretty comfortable about it… except for the faint tinge of guilt that I hadn’t told him I was working for Robin. Whom I had a massive crush on. “If, hypothetically, someone were to ask me, then I suppose I’d say yes.”
After all, Robin was my boss. A crush wouldn’t overcome that divide; it’d die out in time, or he’d have to fire me.
Besides that, riding a motorbike with a Wild Hunter wasn’t like I was getting married to him or anything.
Just simple, harmless flirting.
Gwyn’s hand tightened. The monkshood plant tattooed on him flexed with his movements. “Good to know. Just in case someone on a bike ever finds you wandering around at night when you should be behind a locked door.” Gwyn gave me a sidelong glance with those garnet eyes.
I balled up the napkin in my free hand. Yeah, that was about the last time I was ever going to walk home alone at night. Next time Robin offered me a ride, I’d be all for it. “Something tells me if the Ghosthand really wanted me dead, a locked door wouldn’t do too much for me.”
“Still.” Gwyn ran his thumb over my knuckles.
“Still,” I agreed, pleasant tingles flowing through my arm. Harmless flirting, Appletree. Keep your cool.
He held out his other hand and I stared at his empty palm.
“Hand the phone over,” he said. “Let me put my number in.”
My face was probably on the verge of exploding as I slid the Acorn 8 out of my pocket and unlocked it for him. It definitely felt hot enough that I might’ve been the tiniest bit on fire. It was weird how he brought that out in me.
Maybe it was because of his air of being totally fucking awesome. Robin was fun to poke at, but Gwyn struck me as the kind of guy who couldn’t be phased by anything.
Meanwhile, I regularly snorted in the most unattractive possible way and looked like a wobbly baby deer in high heels.
Gwyn plucked it out of my hands and began typing, his brow creased. “You ever need a ride, you know who to call,” he told me, handing the phone back. “Don’t be a stranger.”
“Well, we can’t be strangers if we’re meeting for breakfast dates,” I mumbled, shoving the phone back in my pocket.
Gwyn’s teeth flashed briefly. “Ah, so you finally acknowledge that they’re dates. Now we’re making progress.”
I looked up at him, momentarily dumbstruck. Gentry just didn’t come like this. They were haughty, cold, walled off in their estates and far removed from the Lessers. “Gwyn, why would you want to date a Lesser?”
His smile slowly faded. I immediately wished I could rewind time and shove the words back in my mouth.
We weren’t dating. He was just teasing me. That was the sort of thing a serious girlfriend would ask. The presumption was off the charts.
“You know, these little breakfast dates make the rest of the day easier.” His hand tightened around mine. “Making you blush gives me something to laugh about when everything else is dark.”
“Gwyn…” I had so many things I wanted to ask and couldn’t think of a clear way to phrase them. How hard was life in the Wild Hunt if having breakfast with me was a bright spot in his day?
He glanced down at a battered watch, his expression shuttered. “You’re late, Bananatree. Better get that ass moving.”
I sucked in a breath and swallowed all my questions. “Um. Right.”
Maybe I’d screwed up our lighthearted little mornings by asking at all. It wasn’t my business what a Wild Hunter wanted to do with his time, or what he did when he was with them. The less I knew, the better.
I stood up and brushed the crumbs off my legs, avoiding his gaze.
But Gwyn leaned forward and tapped his cheek. “Can I get one for the road?”
His eyes were glittering with suppressed amusement, but my heart was galloping overtime in my chest, slamming against my ribcage.
I leaned over, finding it suddenly very hard to breathe, and my lips just brushed the smooth skin of his cheek.
Gwyn turned his head, his lips catching me full on the mouth. They were soft and warm, molding against mine perfectly, and one of his big hands reached up and brushed the edge of my jaw.
I couldn’t breathe at all, terrified of breaking the moment. His tongue gently traced the edge of my lip and he bit down on the spot gently, a nibble that