“I doubt it,” I say. Feeling brave, braver than I’ve ever felt before, I reach over and run my fingers over his hand, the same way he did to me earlier. I’m rewarded with a soft smile. The things I would do to keep that smile on Viktor’s face. “Nothing you’ve said so far has been stupid and I like hearing what you’re thinking.”
“Okay,” he finally says. “I was thinking about how cool it would be to have an actual artist make jewelry that I could enchant.”
My mouth falls open. “Oh,” I manage to say, my mind already spinning with ideas. I might not be the best at jewelry making but it could be a fun project, especially because I would be working with Viktor. “I think I’d like that.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah,” I say, my face breaking out into a grin.
The music starts to swell as the people playing the stringed instruments come to an end. They take a bow and we all clap for them. There’s a DJ booth next to the dance floor that suddenly comes to life.
“Welcome everybody! I hope you’ve all had some time to mingle and get yourselves some food and something to drink! If you haven’t, now is the perfect time to do so,” he says into his mic, letting us all know. “We’re going to start getting the dance floor going. We’ll start soft, that way you can finish up with whatever you’re talking about and then we’ll slowly get the party started! If you’ve found a dance partner, I wanna see you out on the floor and if you haven’t yet, get out there anyway. Music has a way of bringing people together, people!”
The music starts off soft, mostly instrumental just like the DJ promised. I look down at my plate and then over at Viktor who’s already looking at me. I’m about to ask him what he thinks of dancing when he asks me something instead.
“How do you feel about pickles?”
Chapter Six
Viktor
The moment I saw the little table in the back corner with a man in front of abarrel, I knew I needed to check it out. I have so many questions. Why do they have a pickle man here? Why is he dressed as a king, complete with a crown? Why is he tucked back in the corner when he should be proudly displayed right when we walk in?
I take Duncan’s hand in my own, leading him in the direction of the Pickle King. A surge of tingles goes through me at the touch. I feel warm and floaty holding his hand. It’s nice. Really nice.
It feels like it’s been forever since I’ve allowed myself to connect with another person. I’ve closed myself off. I needed to protect myself with all these changes. How the fuck am I supposed to explain what’s going on with some random human?How could I explain away the errant magic that surges when I’m coming? Or the fact that my ass is wet when I get turned on? No, it was easier just to hide this part of myself away.
Things feel different now.
I feel my chest cracking open when I’m around Duncan. He already knows about the paranormal world so I won’t have to hide from him. I have no idea what he’s thinking or how he feels but there’s this sensation in the pit of my gut, something that tells me he’s feeling things just the same way I am.
We walk over to the Pickle King, hand in hand. I can’t get the smile off my face. This is so wonderfully whimsical!
“Greetings,” the Pickle King says, giving us a deep bow. His eyes keep flashing over towards the DJ. That’s interesting. “If you mind not, I must say, you are a dashing couple.”
Duncan sputters and despite not being able to see his cheeks, I can almost guarantee they’re stained red with a blush. Adorable.
“Thank you,” I say with a grin. “I saw you from across the room and Ihadto come see you.” Then I cringe. “That sounds like a terrible pick up line.”
That startles a chuckle from Duncan. “We don’t need a third.”
Now I’m giggling as well, shoving my shoulder against Duncan’s.
“A pity!” Pickle King says, letting his voice be tinged with exaggerated wistfulness. “May I interest you in the finest of pickles?”
“Yes, please! One for each of us, please!”
“Your wish is my command,” he says, picking up a pair of tongs. He snaps them a few times, testing it out. He reaches forward, like he’s going to snap at Duncan’s nose before pulling it away and shaking his head at himself. He’s so weird in the most wonderful way. “Sorry, they have a bit of a mind of their own.”
Duncan’s eyes are wide as he watches this silly little display. I get the feeling that despite him being an artist, he doesn’t have a lot of whimsy in his life. I’m struck with how much I want to be the one to change that. Would he like that? Would he like a little more silly in his life?
“Oh, we got a feisty one,” the Pickle King murmurs, the hand inside the barrel moving around in a circle like something is fighting him. “Gotcha!” Then he’s pulling a pickle out triumphantly.
“I want the feisty one!”
The Pickle King looks at me with a raised brow. “I’m not sure you’re the one who needs a bit of feistiness in their life.”
I stick out my bottom lip but nod. “Fine. Duncan can have the feisty pickle,” I say with a giggle.
