He wasn’t just talking about the mess with Niall, but his siblings didn’t need to know that. Neither did Wade because Boston wasn’t the other man’s home. Riordan ignored the sharp stab of want that cut through him, pretending the urge he’d felt earlier to let Wade keep his sealskin was just an illusion.
It would be a lie, but fae were good at those.
Donal gave him an odd look, which he ignored, heading down the hall to the kitchen. Wade followed after him and started poking around the open plan space the second he arrived, opening up cupboards and drawers and peering at all the shelves.
“What are you going to make for breakfast?” Wade asked.
“It’s more like brunch at this hour,” Riordan said.
“Does that mean we get mimosas?”
Riordan looked over at where Wade had found the pantry and had disappeared into it. “You like mimosas?”
“Hey, guys can like the fruity drinks.”
“I’m not saying you can’t or that you shouldn’t. I can make you a mimosa or something else. We have plenty of alcohol.”
Riordan and his siblings couldn’t get drunk unless the underlying alcohol was brewed for their people, which meant buying from a fae provider. While they had several bottles of that kind of alcohol in their personal store, he wasn’t sure if they’d give Wade any sort of buzz.
“Sure. I can’t get drunk, but I like the taste of them. I always have to make sure my niece doesn’t try to drink out of mine when I have one.” Wade stepped out of the pantry with a bag of tortilla chips, a box of granola bars, and an unopened jar of salsa. “What are you making?”
“I was thinking pancakes or waffles.”
“Will you even have room for pancakes if you eat that entire bag of chips?” Donal asked as he came into the kitchen, eyeingwhere Wade had spread out everything on the other side of the kitchen island.
“He ate two dozen cannoli this morning,” Riordan said, then immediately regretted it when Wade spoke up.
“Those were good,” Wade said as he ripped open the bag of chips. “I’ll need to go back to Mike’s Pastry before I leave.”
Riordan hastily turned around and made a beeline for the pantry, intent on digging up the box of pancake mix he knew was in there. He could feel Donal’s judgmental gaze between his shoulder blades as he searched through the shelves.
“You didn’t take him to Modern Pastry?” Donal asked in a deceptively mild voice.
“Wade wanted Mike’s Pastry,” Riordan said.
“Did you even bother to tell him how Mike’s Pastry is inferior to Modern Pastry? Didyoueat any?”
“No, because Wade wasn’t sharing.”
“I can’t believe you’d betray Modern Pastry in this way.”
Riordan exited the pantry and glared at Donal, who was giving him the most disappointed look in his hefty arsenal of expressions. “I just said I didn’t eat any.”
“You still set foot in enemy territory.”
“What’s wrong with Mike’s Pastry?” Wade asked.
Riordan glanced over at him, unsurprised to see half the bag of chips gone, along with half the salsa. Donal did a double take when he saw how much Wade had already eaten. “Nothing if you like overpriced tourist food.”
“Guess we fit right in, then, since we were playing tourist.”
“Is that what you were doing when you went to see Lady Caith?” Saoirse asked as she joined them in the kitchen, still wrapped up in Riordan’s jacket.
“Some of her fae were following us. I figured we could have a little talk,” Wade said.
“And she talked to you? Just like that?”
Riordan dug a frying pan out of one of the cupboards under the island and then pulled a carton of strawberries from the refrigerator. “Wade let them know what pack he was with, and that seemed to be the deciding factor. It was a short conversation.”
