Total pages in book: 43
Estimated words: 39991 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 200(@200wpm)___ 160(@250wpm)___ 133(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 39991 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 200(@200wpm)___ 160(@250wpm)___ 133(@300wpm)
The back door opened and Ivor stepped into the kitchen. As always, Rowan’s heart picked up beats as he gazed at the beautiful incubus who belonged to him. The years they’d have together stretched out in a wonderful dream of possibilities. They planned to live here for as long as they could. At some point, their lack of aging would become noticeable, and they’d have to move on. Even with his mother coming through financially, she still wasn’t willing to mend their relationship further, so he supposed being disowned was actually a good thing. His family would never see him stay the same age.
“I thought you were taking on a new client today,” Rowan said as he rounded the kitchen island and put his hands on Ivor’s chest. He’d found that with his life being a real live romance, he was not drifting into his fantasy worlds as much. Probably a good thing now that he was running his own bakery.
Ivor grasped his waist and leaned down to drop a kiss on his mouth. “I am. Had a little time before I’m meeting him.”
“So you just had to see me?” Rowan teased. “Even though we saw each other plenty this morning?”
Ivor’s grin was wide as he reached back to play with Rowan’s longer hair which he kept in a ponytail or small bun when in the kitchen. “It was a good morning.”
“Most of them are,” Rowan murmured as he leaned forward to kiss Ivor again. “I have a new fruit tart for you to try out.”
“I’d rather taste you.”
“Didn’t get enough yet, huh?”
“I’ll never get enough of you,” Ivor whispered before taking his mouth in a deeper kiss.
“Whoa.”
Rowan pulled away from Ivor’s mouth with reluctance before turning toward Rachel, who stood in the entrance to the kitchen, her mouth hanging open. “Sorry about that, Rachel.”
“It’s okay. It’s not the first time I’ve caught you smooching with your husband. Don’t really blame you. I was just gonna grab some more napkins for the dispensers. I’ll come back because we’re fine for now.” She backed out of the kitchen.
Rowan turned back to Ivor and winked. “We keep getting caught. You’re just too tempting.”
“Oh, I’m pretty sure you’re the real temptation here.”
“So, who’s the client this time?” Rowan asked as he went to the refrigerator to grab one of the tarts he’d told Ivor about. He knew his husband. Knew he’d want to take it with him.
“I got to pick. It was between a grumpy CEO and a fantasy artist—I picked the artist and stuck Emory with the grumpy guy.”
“You’re such a good friend.” Rowan chuckled. “You know, is it really a fantasy artist if it’s one of us? I mean the humans who can see you guys? Wouldn’t he be a reality artist in truth?”
Ivor pursed his lips. “Guess I never thought about it that way. I’ll know for sure soon enough.” He leaned against the counter behind him. “Something is up with Xavier lately.”
“Oh?” Rowan asked as he pulled out a pastry box for the tart.
“Apparently, the magic coming from the ley lines here is increasing, and more preternaturals are coming into town.”
“I did notice there seem to be a lot. I get quite a few in here all the time.”
“I don’t know what it means, and I get the feeling even Xavier is at a loss. I can sense it a little, but Dax picks up on that stuff more than I do, and he says the magic is so strong, he’s now feeling it at all times.”
Rowan paused where he’d been boxing the tart. “That must be uncomfortable.” Rowan had really gotten to know Dax and Everett—and Emory as well. They were Ivor’s family and had now become a replacement for his own. He and Ivor went to dinner at Everett’s gorgeous mansion often, and he’d now read all of Everett’s books and was really looking forward to the new urban fantasy series he was about to publish. Apparently, they were also romances, so they’d be right up his alley. “What do the ley lines actually do?”
“They are paths under the earth that hold magic. Wizards, witches, and sorcerers use the magic in their spells. There are a few other preternaturals who can tap into the power, too. They don’t affect me at all, and I can’t really feel them. My magic lies in other directions.”
“Oh, I’m well aware of your magic,” Rowan said with a sly grin. “Have I told you lately how much I love your pheromones?”
Ivor flashed him a sultry smile. “I think it’s me you love.”
“I know it is.”
Rowan carried the box to Ivor, who took it, set it on the counter, and pulled Rowan back against him. “I’m going to miss you while I’m on this job.”
Rowan leaned in closer to better inhale the bergamot and orange scent he was completely addicted to. “I’ll miss you, too. I always do. But I’m going to spend my time working on some new pastries, so you’ll have those to look forward to when you return.”