Page 78 of 'Til All the Seas Run Dry

“I can’t,” Robbie said. “You’re on a date.”

“Come eat. And then you can go lock yourself away and watch… whatever you said.”

“Fawlty Towers.”

“Sure. That.”

“Jory,” Callum said, his tone tight.

“Callum,” she replied, imitating the tone.

“You dinnae get to count this as a date then if he’s here. This isnae the second date.”

“Oh, it most assuredly is the second date, and it absolutely counts. Because the next date is the third date, and I’ll be damned if your old-fashioned ass bumps that back.”

Callum’s eyes flew wide, and Robbie snorted.

Jory leaned in and whispered in Callum’s ear, “But fair is fair. I’ll give you a bonus one.”

“Get the bread, Robbie,” Callum said, his eyes locked on Jory’s as a thrill shivered up her spine.

25

“Oh my god, that was good. I’m stuffed,” Jory said, leaning back in her chair.

“You outdid yourself, Cal,” Robbie said and then proceeded to undo both his belt and the top button of his pants.

“What the hell are ye doing, Robbie?” Callum asked, bewildered.

“I can’t wear hard pants when I’m this full,” Robbie whined.

Jory snorted a laugh into her wine glass.

“Hard pants?” Callum asked. “That doesnae make any sense. All pants are soft.”

Robbie was too busy petting a disgruntled-looking Walter, who had emerged from his hiding place in Robbie’s pocket, eaten sugar syrup out of a saucer, and then fallen asleep on a piece of bread, much to Jory’s delight.

“Hard pants are any pants with a waistband that doesn’t stretch,” Jory supplied helpfully.

Robbie stood with a groan. “You cooked, I’ll clean.”

“I’ll help,” Jory said, attempting to rise.

“Not a chance,” Robbie said, grabbing the plate from her hand. “You just sit your gorgeous ass down and have another glass of wine and keep the boss company.”

“I’m not your boss anymore,” Callum reminded Robbie.

“Oh, I know,” he said in his mountain twang. “But it’s a cute nickname, don’t you think?”

Jory smiled. “I think if anyone’s the boss around here, it’s Walter.” She reached out and stroked a fingertip between his tiny, iridescent wings. Walter made a sound that was somewhere between a purr and a snort.

“Damn straight,” Robbie said from the sink, where he was washing a plate.

Callum picked up the bottle of wine and lifted an eyebrow in silent question. Jory nodded with a smile, and Callum poured the wine into her empty glass.

“So what’s the plan for the rest of the date?” Robbie asked over the sound of the faucet running.

Jory looked at Callum, an expectant look on her face. “Yes, boss. What’s the plan for the rest of the date?”