“So when they mess up, they fall into water instead of hitting hard ground.”
He grunts again, this time his thinking grunt. I’m getting good at telling them apart.
Even with that massive platter of spaghetti, he finishes first. I munch my way through my last few bites of garlic bread—I always save a piece for last—and slip into the kitchen to grab cookies-and-cream ice cream for dessert.
Luke stares at his bowl suspiciously, but the moment thespoon passes his lips, he makes that little surprised noise of pleasure I already love.
That noise does things to me, setting off fireworks inside and lighting me up.
“I want some.” Princess Buttercup perks up from where she’s taken up residence on Luke’s lap, the little traitor, getting all the warm weredragon snuggles for herself.
“Why do you like ice cream?” I’ve always wondered why she always begs for it. “Cats can’t taste sugar.”
“It’s socreamy.” Her paw lashes out, trying to snag his spoon, but dragon reflexes are faster than human, and he keeps it out of her reach.
“Can she have this?” he asks me.
“She can have a little, but not any of the chocolate. It’s dangerous for cats.”
He spoons up a small bite of vanilla without any cookie bits and dabs it on the middle of his palm, holding it out to her like her own personal plate.
My cat’s loud purr rumbles through the room, bouncing off the stone walls as she licks up the treat.
“Do you want me to get you a washcloth?” I ask, not knowing his tolerance for kitty spit.
“Not an issue.” He holds his hand in front of his face, and a whoosh of fire shoots out of his mouth.
Even though the flames don’t come near her, Princess Buttercup leaps away with a hiss. “No!”
I jolt and make a strangled squeal of surprise that doesn’t resemble any word in any languageever.
Flames splash over his skin for a few seconds before fading to leave behind an unblemished hand. “See? Perfectlysanitized.”
“What? How? What?” My eyes feel wide as saucers, and I’ve lost my ability to form full sentences, but fudging fudge! He shot fire out of hismouthand purposefully roasted his hand like it was nothing! How’s a girl supposed to react? “You’re not burned!”
“Dragons are impervious to fire,” he says with complete nonchalance, but a tiny smile curves the left corner of his mouth as I continue to stare at him in awe.
It’s one thing to hear that dragons are magically powerful. It’s a whole other thing to see it, to know on a visceral level that he can shootfire. My thighs clench, and I try to slow my breathing, wondering if he can tell how turned on I am.
I restart the movie, and after several minutes, my cat crawls onto my lap for snuggles, having decided, I suppose, that even if I’m not as warm as Luke, my inability to set things on fire is a plus. Her purrs fade as she falls deep asleep, melting in relaxation until it feels like she weighs far more than her nine pounds. I love how much it shows she trusts me.
We watch the rest of the movie without any other surprises. A pleased sigh escapes me when Baby and Johnny finish their climactic dance with a successful overhead lift, confirming their love for all to see.
“So the dancing wasn’t only for the competition,” Luke says.
“Yeah, in the end, the competition wasn’t the point. Dancing with Johnny in front of her parents and all the other rich people was her way to show she loved him.”
His golden eyes spear into mine. “And what extra meaning will dancing have in this book you’ve trapped us in?”
“I don’t know.” I shrug, the movement jerky and awkward. “Maybe nothing.”
It’s a lie. I might not have read this book, but I’ve read hundreds of romances. The dancing willtotallymean something romantic.
I have to hope that if we don’t break the spell in time, Luke doesn’t hate me for whatever the book will force us to do.
We spend the next morning researching, and although we don’t find anything to help with the spell, there’s still a surprise.
Tiny green shoots have appeared throughout the stacks, little hints of plant life, as if the wooden bookcases are still live trees, and the library is budding for spring.
