“Miss Cassia, if you try to tell me one more time your plain, boring gunk is better thananythingwith cherries, we’re gonna have problems.”
“I have an ace up my sleeve.”
“What’s that?” Aevrin asked, as he dug up another scoop of his own and savored it.
“I’ve got you all figured out, Aevrin Riveker. You may be competitive, but you’re a real gentleman.”
“So what?” he said, feeling a little soothed by the compliment, even though he was certain Cassia was just working him.
“And I’m a lady.” She bit down on her biscuit and smiled around it, lifting her eyebrows up at him.
“Geeze, Cassia. Really?” Aevrin grumbled. But she did have him there. He certainly wasn’t going to insist on a kiss if she was looking for a way out. “Fine. The pullover’s yours. Plain custard wins.”
“I’m just teasing,” Cassia said, nibbling on her biscuit. “Really, please don’t give me anything. We’ll call it a tie. The rain’s letting up.”
It was still drizzling, but he wasn’t going to waste any time getting them back to warmth, not when the downpour could start up again. He hadn’t heard any ice hit the tarpaulin in a bit. When he went to fetch Stal, the bull shook violently, spraying Aevrin with water, but obediently came back around to the front of the cart without trying to light anything on fire.
The storm was over when they got home, but the cart had gotten stuck in the mud twice in the short distance. Aevrin and Cassia were both filthy. A rainbow hung over the mountains. In a rare sight the skies were empty of dragons, though the creatures were capable of flying through storms when they had a reason to.
They got out of the cart slowly, boots squelching in the mud in front of the house.
“Go in. Change,” Aevrin urged.
“Just l…let me help unload first,” she shivered. He’d be blind not to enjoy the way her wet clothes clung to her curves, but the stiffness in her shoulders and the way she hugged herself to keep warm just wouldn’t do.
“Cassia,” Aevrin said sternly. “You’re frozen. Go inside.”
“I’m fine.”
“If you don’t go in right now…”
“You got more drenched than I did.”
“So what?” Aevrin narrowed his eyes at her. He was used to it. He was outside in all forms of weather. And this, at least, wasnota competition. “Go in the house, Miss Cassia. Please?”
She ignored him and grabbed the cloth bags of produce out of the back of the cart as Aevrin unhitched Stal. He had to bite his tongue, but at least she wasmoving. She vanished inside as he led the bull to the holding pen and started to strip the equipment off. Cassia emerged from the house.
“Your Gramma said to leave it on the floor so we don’t track mud into the kitchen,” Cassia said as she stiffly walked down the porch steps. “Mavek will put Stal away.”
He jogged out of the pen and tried to block the porch stairs to stop her, holding out an arm to the side.
“C’mon, Cassia. Go back in, get dry.”
She gave him a look and sidled around him. With a heavy sigh, Aevrin gave up and grabbed as much as he could carry in his arms. When he made it inside, Gramma Prisca was already ferrying goods into the kitchen. He hollered that he’d handle it, hung his hat up and headed back out for the rest.
It only took one more load from Aevrin to get everything into the house. By then, thankfully, Cassia was already trudging barefoot upstairs to her bedroom. With a sigh he peeled off his muddy boots, grabbed a crate off the ground, and carried it into the kitchen.
“How come you let that girl carry all this?” Gramma was in the kitchen. She’d been rummaging through the produce, but now she fixed Aevrin with a narrow-eyed glare.
“Geeze, Gramma! You think I didn’t try to stop her? You’re the only one she listens to.”
Prisca chuckled and shook her head.
“Guess I should have guessed that. I’ll handle these. You go change.”
Aevrin sighed, ignored her, and carried in another load. He normally wasn’t one to break his Gramma’s commands, ever. But no matter how sprightly she was, there was no way he was leaving a pile of heavy groceries on the floor for her to pick up.
“Go change, boy,” Prisca said.
