“Oh, that’s not good.” Then Rux made a sound that might have been a strangled laugh. “You tried to buy him a business, and he thinks you were” - Another choked noise - “offering investment tips?”
“Don’t.” Mabon dropped his head into his hands. “Please don’t.”
“That’s actually impressive.” Urien leaned forward from the back seat, his blue eyes glinting with amusement. “How did you manage to make a grand romantic gesture sound like a seminar?”
“I panicked. I said ‘business acumen’ and ‘capital investment’ and he just, he looked so confused, and I couldn’t stop talking…”
“Did you actually say, ‘capital investment’ to Sam?” Rux’s shoulders shook.
“Shut up.”
“To the man we’re courting. You said, ‘capital investment.’”
“I’m aware.” Mabon glared at him. “Perhaps you’ll do better with your dinner invitation.”
That sobered Rux instantly, and his smile faded.
“One gesture left.” Urien’s voice carried a note of finality. “No pressure.”
Rux’s jaw tightened. “I won’t fail.”
“You said that before you took him seventeen pastries at seven in the morning,” Mabon pointed out.
“This is different. This is dinner. At our home. I’ll cook everything wonderfully, the table will be beautiful, the atmosphere will be romantic…” Rux gripped the steering wheel. “Sam will understand what we’re offering.”
“And if he doesn’t?” Urien asked quietly.
Mabon straightened in his seat, meeting both their eyes in therearview mirror. “Then we tell him the truth. All of it.”
“The Council…”
“The Council can’t expect us to lose our Treasure because of their secrecy protocols.” Mabon’s jaw tightened. “If the dinner doesn’t work, we reveal everything. Dragon forms, mate bonds, hoard traditions… Everything.”
Urien nodded slowly. “Everything.”
“Then I’d better start planning the menu.” Rux started the engine. “Because I’m not losing him to a misunderstanding about investment portfolios.”
Mabon winced. “Are you ever going to let that go?”
“Capital. Investment.” Rux pulled into traffic, his wide grin showing his teeth. “Nope, I don’t think I will.”
Chapter Seventeen
Rux
Rux was determined he wasn’t going to fail like his mates.
Wednesday afternoon, he ordered a cappuccino and leaned against the counter while Sam worked the espresso machine. “Random question. What do you like on pizza?”
Sam glanced over, surprised. “Pizza?”
“I’m just curious. I’ve been trying to figure out if pineapple actually belongs or if that’s just edible chaos.”
“Oh, definitely chaos.” Sam grinned. “I’m pretty traditional. Margherita, or maybe mushroom and garlic if I’m feeling adventurous.”
Rux filed that away.Traditional tastes. Garlic. Mushrooms.
Thursday morning, he came back for a latte. “Chicken or beef?”
