They grunted at me and stepped aside to let me in. I walked right over to their small circular dining table and set the tray down, then reached into two of my pockets to pull out two thermoses of coffee—luckily, my tactical pants had huge pockets.
“Is that what I think it is?” they asked, plopping into a chair.
“Yep. Your favorite, sweetheart.”
A flush bloomed on their cheeks as they took one of the thermoses from me. “Thank you.” They opened it, sniffed it, then took a sip, humming in delight. “Delicious. Just how I like it.”
“We’ve been living together on mission for months now. I think I know how you take your coffee.”
That made them smile tiredly before they reached for the covered dishes on the overlarge tray. There were pancakes, sausages, bacon, omelets with some veggies thrown in, and toast, along with some fruit and juice.
“Holy shit, Rome, you went all out.”
I shrugged, not wanting to admit that I wanted to impress them. “Well, being home means I have access to all my cooking gear, so…”
“This is amazing.” They shoved a piece of bacon in their mouth, then stabbed a sausage with their fork and used it as a pointing stick. “Aren’t you going to eat any of this?”
I nodded but still waited until they’d made their first plate before I made my own. I wanted—needed—them to take the things they wanted first.
Because Oakley didn’t grow up in a dragon community—the cult they lived in didn’t count since they ignored nearly all dragon traditions—they probably didn’t realize that bringingthem food, cooking for them, and making sure they were well fed was a… display of courtship. A way for me to tell them I wanted to court them and that I cared deeply for them.
They probably didn’t realize how much it meant when one dragon shared food with another person.
Which was fine because I was mainly doing it to ensure they were eating enough and to obviously make sure they didn’t burn their kitchen down.
But there was some deep satisfaction that happened every time I supplied them with food.
“This is delicious,” they mumbled around a bite of omelet.
“Good.” I sent them a small smile.
Oakley nudged me with their toe, swallowing their food before speaking. “I didn’t think you were serious about feeding me breakfast this morning.”
I frowned at them. “Why would I say it if I didn’t mean it?”
They shrugged and played with their food with a fork for a few seconds. “It’s just… I’m not used to… people caring that I ate or slept or anything else. I honestly can’t even remember a time when my mother cooked for me or did my laundry or anything like that. I suppose she must’ve done it when I was little, but I… back at the, um, cult, I always had to fend for myself. Ever since I can remember.”
Mother of Scales, I really wanted to hold them right now and take away every hurt they ever felt. I hated what their mother did to them. I hated that Oakley had to grow up in such a horrible place. I hated that they weren’t shown love and comfort when they were young.
I wanted to make up for it. So badly.
But I didn’t know how.
Before I could formulate a response—what did one say to that, anyway?—Oakley’s alarm went off on their phone. They grimaced as they pulled it out of their pocket and turned it off.
“We have thirty minutes before we have to meet Dad downstairs in a meeting room. I’m assuming other people are coming, otherwise, I think we’d just talk to him in his office or even in his condo.” They shrugged and picked their fork back up before glancing at me through their eyelashes. “I just… thank you for this.” They gestured to the food. “And for… for everything, Rome. I know it’s not easy for you to let me go into dangerous situations, but I appreciate that you do.”
I gave them a nod. “Don’t worry about it, sweetheart. I like making you breakfast and everything else.”
That blush came back onto their cheeks, and I really, really, really wanted to kiss them.
But we still hadn’t talked yet, and there wasn’t enough time for it right now, anyway.
We finished breakfast quickly, then I cleaned up while they hopped in the shower since I was already ready for work. Oak got ready swiftly, and we headed down to the meeting room Garrick had told us to meet in.
When we walked inside, I was surprised to see an entire king’s guard squad already sitting at the table. I frowned and met Oak’s eyes before we took our seats. They narrowed and stared across the table at their father.
“Dad? What is this? I thought we were meeting about our next steps in regards to our case?” They gestured between us, obviously not wanting to saytrafficking casein front of the others since we didn’t know who was read in on the case.
