“Have you met Laz? You can and you will.”
Rosalind squirmed, then fell limp. “You’re right. I’m sorry. It’s so engrained in me to clean up and fix and?—”
He cut her off, pulling her from his shoulder and setting her on the counter. “Rose, baby, it’s okay. I get it.” She slumped, and he took the opportunity to grab her sweater and help her into it. “You were running around a lot the last two days between city hall and here. Making sure everything is on schedule and helping us. My stress probably isn’t helping yours.”
Then again, he could see the way her body and mind seemed to thrive whenever she came back into the bakery after her errands. How stepping through that front door seemed to lift a weight from her soul. The smile that grew whenever she saw Laz…
Whenever she sawDav.
She took his hands, squeezing them rhythmically. “I just want things to go well. For the bakery and you, but also…”
“They’re going to love your proposal, Rose.”
“If I ever get to work on it between the fundraiser tasks. I asked for more responsibility, I should be able to handle it.”
Davarox understood her struggles all too well. The need to balance everything, do everything perfectly, all for an ounce of attention. The human in Heck, fighting for someone tolisten. She’d been in the demon realm just over two weeks now and probably hadn’t stopped running except for the night they’d met and the night she’d had with Laz.
Now it was his turn.
“Tell me one thing about your proposalon our walk?”
It was Rosalind who grabbed his hand first after he’d locked the back, a welcome surprise that she wove her fingers through his and let him lead her to their destination. She talked about seeing the art district for the first time and the joy she’d felt walking around freely. How Mozke had told her the challenges the shopkeepers faced and how she’d immediately started looking for solutions.
Dav didn’t stop her when she kept talking well pastone thing, probably because his curiosity sparked—not just at her enthusiasm, but at the brilliant mind she probably didn’t realize she was showing off.
“What do you meangone?” Dav asked, looking over his shoulder at Rose.
She sat at the counter in his kitchen—well, sitting was relative, because she had leaned so far over the surface in her excitement, she was practically flat on the marble. “That’s exactly what I’m wondering too! With all the back and forth and hands it’s passed, that money just disappears. It doesn’t make any sense.”
Davarox slid the eggs out of the pan, topping each of the rice bowls before setting them on the counter between them. He pushed a jar of sauce over to her. “Try that first. Spicy.”
Rosalind dipped her pinky finger on top then licked it, tongue wrapping around in a way that had Dav’s cock stiffening. Which was only made worse by her eyes rolling back as she moaned.
“Oh my gods,” she breathed, throwing her head back. “Why does food here tasteso good?”
Davarox could only grunt, a little too pleased with himself. If he wanted to make it through dinner, he was going to need to change the subject fast.
Except Rose had no intentions of going easy on him as she continued explaining her research, if she even noticed how often he was shifting in his seat to alleviate his hard cock. Fuck, he would have thought it had been weeks since he’d last found release, not that fucking morning. And they were talking aboutbudgets, for fuck’s sake.
“I assume Laz informed you of most of what we talked about the other night?”
Dav cleared his throat. “What?”
She fiddled with the greens on her fork. “Sorry, changing subjects randomly.”
He couldn’t help his grin. “I’m actually used to it. Laz did talk about… quite a bit, so you might have to be more specific.”
“Fair,” Rosalind said with a shy smile. “I didn’t know if he shared my… sexual preferences. Or… other stuff?”
This conversation didn’t make Dav nearly as uncomfortable as it was making her. “You are attracted to intelligence, including emotional intelligence. He informed you I am open about my preferences.” Then, he smirked. “And he fucked you in the shower while you were on your cycle.”
Rosalind’s fork squeaked at the bottom of her bowl. “Okay, yeah. That part.” She took a long drink of water, avoiding his gaze. “That’s… over with already, nosurprise. Won’t get it again, at least, since the contraceptive should stop it. In case that was?—”
“A turn off? Not in the slightest.” He probably couldn’t explain the depths of how much it turned him on without frightening her. “Did that worry you?”
“I’m starting to realize that maybe I don’t have to. About a lot of things.”
“No, baby,” he reassured her. “You don’t.”
