“I’d offer you another, but I’m worried I’ll get another lecture about my grains.” A slow smile spread across his face.
I grinned and glanced away, peering into the bottom of my tankard. My fingers curled around the wood. “I’d apologize for my unsolicited opinion, but you did ask me how it was, and I don’t much like lying—especially when it comes to ale.”
He laughed. “So, I suppose that means you don’t want another, then?”
“Well, you supposed wrong.” Quickly, I looked up at him. His fiery eyes bored into mine. “Despite the ridiculous amount of froth and the regrettable bitterness, I’d very much like another.”
“Now you’re just twisting the knife.” Shaking his head, he pressed a hand to his heart.
“You can take it.”
“No, I’m far too wounded. I’m going to expire within seconds.” He held out a hand and winked. “Double the froth this time, then?”
A giggle popped from my throat. “Why hold back? Let’s just go for an entire tankard full of it.”
I passed him my tankard, and our fingers brushed. The warmth of his hand bled into me, like a shock of heat. I blinked and snapped back my hand, far too quickly to be normal. But he didn’t seem to notice. He wandered back over to his wagon in a relaxed yet confident gait.
I took the opportunity to press my hands to my cheeks. They were blazing hot. What had gotten into me?
He returned a moment later with the refilled tankards. This time, he’d done them with a proper pour, and only a small amount of foam perched on top. When he settled down beside me again, he lay all the way back and pointed up at the carpet of sky visible through the trees.
“I love clear nights,” he said, his voice rumbling deep in his chest. “Look, you can see the constellation of Freya.”
I set my tankard beside the bedroll and reclined on the ground, my hair spreading around my head like a puddle of silver. “You don’t strike me as someone who memorizes the constellation of the gods.”
I wasn’t looking at him, but I could stillfeelhis head shifting, and then his gaze pinning the side of my face. “WhatdoI strike you as? Besides a terrible brewmaster, of course.”
Rolling over onto my side, I pushed up onto my elbow, and cushioned my head with my hand. I swept my gaze across him. He was pure power and strength, and that hint of magic I’d smelled earlier mingled with the fire he’d built. “You must have fire demons in your ancestry, which means you probably don’t need this fire to stay warm tonight. You also helped me with my wagon, even after I was rude to you. So you like helping other people, and you don’t expect thanks for it. In fact, I think you’d rather not be thanked. You have this rugged look about you, one you embrace. It means people might think you’re the opposite of how you truly are, and you like that. It’s more fun for you when you prove someone wrong.”
He turned toward me, mirroring the way I’d propped my head against my hand. “Clever. Do you know what that tells me about you?”
“Oh, I’m certain I’m going to find out.”
His eyes sparked. “You’ve been a merchant for a long time, and you know how to listen to people and understand their life stories. You let them unload their worries on you, which means you’ve learned what makes people tick. You’re observant. You have refined taste, at least when it comes to ale. I bet if I looked in that wagon of yours, I’d find some kegs. That thing you’re hauling around isn’t some normal wagon. It’s a tavern, isn’t it?”
I fought back the smile but lost. A full-on grin stretched across my face. “Lilia’s Traveling Tavern. It’s fairly well-known around these parts, which tells me something else about you, even though I’d already guessed: you’re new here.”
“You caught me.” His eyes travelled across my body. “So, I stumbled upon a beautiful, famous tavern owner on the road. What are the odds?”
Heat stormed my cheeks. “Well, I travel a lot, so it’s not that strange. ‘Course you just arrived on the Isles, I’m guessing, so I might be one of the few people here you’ve met. Maybe the first? And if you look at it that way, it might be fairly random, but—” I blew out a breath and stopped. This was mortifying. A man had given me a compliment and all I could do was babble nonsensically.
I sat up, grabbed the tankard, and gulped down some ale, forcing myself to stare into the flames rather than look anywhere else.
A hand gently touched my hip. Chest burning, I dragged my gaze from the fire to meet Ragnar’s. But he’d lain back down on the ground. He raised his other hand, pointing up at the sky.
“Let’s watch the stars together,” he said. “Before the clouds roll in.”
I stared at him for a moment. There was something strange in his expression I couldn’t read, like his thoughts were only halfway here, like he saw something more than just Freya’s constellation in the sky. And it occurred to me that perhaps he was more like me than I’d originally thought. Anyone who called the road their home must be.
I lay back down beside him. Our shoulders brushed, and even though my heart pounded in my chest, I knew nothing would come of it. Not tonight at least. We watched the sky together in comfortable silence. And soon, the heat from Ragnar’s body lulled me into a deep, dreamless sleep.
3
LILIA
Chill seeped into my bones. I sat up, blinking at the dull morning light. My bedroll slid down my front, where it had been tucked around me sometime during the night. The ashen remains of the fire scattered in the wind like a cloud of ground peppercorns. I rubbed my swollen eyes and glanced around. Only an empty space sat behind my wagon now. Ragnar was gone.
I sighed, swallowing down my unexpected disappointment. Of course he’d moved on already. He clearly had somewhere he needed to be, and helping me get out of the pothole had slowed him down. He wouldn’t have stopped so early last night if it hadn’t been for me. And so he’d set off before first light.
