I leaned against the rail.
From my perch I could see the guard walking the perimeter, and that made me feel safe.
Torin’s eyes swept the lawn, his demeanor watchful, made me feel even safer. His vibe reminded me of traveling with him through Scotland. “I miss it.”
He raised his chin. “What dost ye miss?”
“Scotland, you, me on the trail, traveling on horses.”
He chuckled. “Yer memories are fonder than yer experience, mo leannan. I daena think ye remember it well enough. Ye were verra unhappy at the time. And I thought ye were goin’ tae die.”
“True, but… I don’t know how to describe it, it was real — real scary, weird, uncomfortable, death-defying all at once. But I want to show you this world, my world, and it all seems boring in comparison.”
His eyes went wide. “Ye thinkthisis borin’? From my seat I can see three things that I daena understand and are likely taekill me for not understandin’ them. And when ye get tae talkin’ sometimes I daena understand half of what ye are sayin’.”
I grinned. “Like what?”
“Earlier ye said ‘Earlybirdiedeliverynowpizza.’ And while I think I ken what ye were saying, I mostly just think ye are bonny and daena worry on it.”
“When you’re saying something confusing I just think about how hot you are. This is our love language, I suppose, we can’t understand everything, but we like the look of each other.”
He shrugged.
“Did you understand when I said, ‘love language’?”
“I understand that ye areverrabeautiful.”
I giggled. “I know it doesn’t make sense that I miss Scotland, but I do miss it.”
“Ye winna miss it for long, Princess.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Why do you say that?”
“I am a Scottish man, and ye are m’wife, seems likely we will spend some time traveling through Scotland on horseback. I must reacquaint ye with the midges and dreich and drunken louts and wee biting bed beasties.” He grinned. “Did ye understand it?”
“God, you’re handsome, my husband.”
We grinned at each other. And then we both watched the road, waiting for the pizza to arrive. Enjoying the sight of my husband, his shoulders stretched against the thread count of his shirt, leaned forward with his elbows on his knees, staring from my porch at a world he didn’t understand, trying to keep me safe from everything that could, or might, possibly happen.
If he thought he could think of three ways he could die, I could too, it was part of the problem of the modern world. We knew so much about what was happening around us. Of course my ways were — murder, war, car accident. I wondered what his were...
“You said you could think of three things that might be able to kill you?”
“Aye, the string in the sky,” he pointed at the telephone wires, “the box by the door,” he gestured toward the keypad security system, “and the worst, ye see it?” He pointed at a potted plant in the corner.
I looked skeptical but then realized there was a little resin Tinkerbell figurine in the dirt, it glowed at night. I was so used to it I had forgotten it was there. “Are you talking about the fairy?”
He gulped, jokingly. “Och nae, daena speak on it! Tis lookin’ at me. Ye canna let them near yer house, Princess, the fae will be wantin’ tae make ye miserable for the fun of it.”
I laughed as the pizza delivery car drove into the driveway.
I recognized him, a local kid named Aaron, but Cooper and I called him Goth Guy, just not to his face.
I waved the guard away as Goth Guy unfolded himself from the beat-up black hatchback, all six-foot-something of him wrapped in the full, unapologetic glory of goth-stoner fashion.
Torin stood, and loomed at the top of the porch steps, his eyes fiercely directed at the gangly young man who was wearing a shredded black trench coat, a ripped T-shirt, black skinny jeans that were more holes than fabric, and huge, clunky, steel-toed platform boots with silver buckles.
Silver chains with skulls, spiked leather bracelets, and a septum ring adorned him. Tattoos covered him. And his jet black hair was up in spikes.
