Gunnar sighs. “Suppose so.”
I bump my toes against his, making him look up at me. “That’s all right. I can chat enough for the both of us. Maybe you’ll learn a thing or two from me.”
He huffs, expression softening. “Aye, and mayhap I’ll keep giving you reasons to trust me, if you’ll let me.”
“Sounds good to me.”
For a moment, his hand lingers in mine, and I can’t think of anywhere else I’d rather be.
Chapter 11
Gunnar
As far as Ican tell, Arlo’s mother and his nan seem excited about the date I chose. Although I think a month is plenty of time to prepare, Arlo wants to get right to planning. And so he drives us into the city to get fitted for suits at some fancy store.
The loud music grates on my ears, and I can barely squeeze into the suit.
“How’s it going in there?” Arlo calls.
“Too tight, again!” I snap.
I’ve always thought being tall was a blessing until now. The suit is too tight across the chest. I undress quickly and step into my pants,jeans,Arlo called them, and storm out.
Arlo sips fruity-scented alcohol, one long, slender leg draped delicately across his knee. “They’re bringing another one. You’ll likely have to get something custom made to fit all those delicious muscles.”
A flush heats my cheeks. “I have clothing that fits me well enough in my timeline. Why can I not wear that?”
Arlo swishes the alcohol around in his mouth before swallowing. “What is it? Leather and furs? Hardly fitting for a wedding.”
“I wore them to my last wedding just fine.” Although I was smaller then. Happier, too. Gods, everything was different back then.
Arlo sets down his glass. “Try one more. Look, this one is quite nice.”
Our tailor returns carrying a new suit. “This one should fit the gentleman better,” he says, “but do let me know if I can make any adjustments.”
I yank the suit out of his arms and glare at Arlo. “One more.”
Behind the curtain, I change into the new suit. The fit is looser, and I feel less like an overstuffed roast of boar. I grab the last piece of clothing, a single long strip of fabric. What in Odin’s name for? A belt? No, it won’t fit around my waist. Oh, perhaps a headband then. I tie it around my forehead, pleased when it keeps my hair out of my face.
“How does it—oh goddess!” Arlo covers his mouth with his hand. “What is that on your head?”
“A headband.”
His shoulders shake. “Oh, darling, you’re too cute.”
A flush crawls up my neck, and I fold my arms. “I’m anything but cute.”
“I beg to differ. You’re adorable!” He springs to his feet, a big grin lighting up his face. “That’s a tie.”
I don’t see what the problem is. “Aye, and Itiedit around my forehead.”
He’s still smiling when he unwraps it from my head. “See, look at how I did mine.”
Ah, now I see what I did wrong.
“Here, let me.” Arlo steps into my space. The salty tang of the sea surrounds me, and it’s as if I’m in my ship, leaving all myfrustration behind. Arlo looks up at me from beneath his lashes, curling his plush lips into a smile that heats my blood. Fingertips caress the nape of my neck when he drapes the tie over my shoulders, drawing it tight.
We’re so close. Can he hear my heart pounding like a drum of war?
