Page 45 of Monsters and Mocha

“Well, for one, I would like to call you Fitz.”

“Done. And may I call you Darby?” One corner of his mouth twitched in amusement, and all Darby wanted to do was grab his shirt and pull him down so she could kiss the grin into existence.

“Yes.”

“What else, Darby?”

She opened her mouth to speak, then hesitated.

What if he didn’t actually say it? What if I say it again and I make things awkward? What if he doesn’t love me like that?

Fitz squeezed her hand, and the warm, patient look in his eyes helped her to summon every ounce of courage that she possessed.

“I want to tell you—now, while I’m not actively dying—that I love you, and I…IwantyoutokissmebeforeIdie.” She said the last words in a rush, avoiding his eyes as her cheeks heated in a blush. “I know I’m not perfect and we’ll drive each other crazy sometimes, and⁠—”

He tugged her hand toward him, cutting her off. “Darby, look at me.”

She cautiously lifted her eyes to his, which were shining with so much love and adoration that it made her breathless.

“I love you, Darby.” He squeezed her hand. “And I’ve been waiting to kiss you for days.”

She grinned stupidly at him. “Really?”

“Really.” He leaned closer, and her eyes slowly closed.

“Clerval’s delivery service!” Henry’s voice boomed from the direction of the door.

Darby’s eyes flew open, and she glared at him while Fitz pulled away, settling back into his chair with a chuckle.

Henry smiled beatifically, the mischievous gleam in his eyes telling her he knew exactly what he had just interrupted. The steaming mug in his hand earned him a little forgiveness, though.

But only just a little.

She pushed herself back to lean against the headboard, then froze. Her mind had been so focused on Fitz and the state of her heart that she had forgotten all about her hand. The pain had become such a constant companion as she drifted in and out of consciousness in the aftermath of Fransten’s schemes that at some point she had begun instinctively pulling her magic in to numb it, to the point that the injury was pushed from her mind.

A metal hand, quite a bit rougher and less aesthetic than Fitz’s, was splayed beside her leg. She lifted her arm, watching in fascination as the fingers moved as she directed. She touched the cold metal of the palm, noting with a scholarly curiosity the way her eyes and mind interpreted the action, telling her that she felt something when logically she knew there were no nerve endings to register sensation.

“How…?” She looked from Fitz to Henry. Her eyes watered with emotion.

Henry, misinterpreting her tears, hurriedly set the mug on the bedside table and sat on the edge of her mattress. “I know it’s not up to the same level of quality as your captain’s, but I was short on time and materials.”

Darby shook her head and wiped her eyes with the back of her wrist. “It’s perfect. I can’t believe you were willing to give me a hand.”

He held his hand to his heart in mock offense. “I’m going to choose not to be hurt that you think me incapable of doing anything nice for you other than supplying you with…” His words trailed off as his eyes narrowed. “That was another one of your jokes, wasn’t it?”

Watery laughter burst out of her, and she leaned forward, ignoring the ache in her lower belly and calf, and threw her arms around Henry’s neck. His arms wrapped tightly around her, and for a moment, neither of them spoke.

Finally, Darby released him and settled back against the headboard. She reached for her mug, pausing when the smell of chocolate and coffee reached her nose.

“Poison-free,” Henry confirmed, as if reading her thoughts. “I had a new shipment delivered just for you.”

She smiled and sipped the drink, savoring the sweet warmth as it traveled down her throat. “How did you know I needed this?”

“Raven came down and told me to ‘make it work.’ I figured if he was willing to finally leave your bedside, you must have woken up. And I knew if you were awake, you would want coffee.”

Darby smiled at the crow, who had taken up residence on top of the curtain rod. “He’s a good Raven.”

He cawed happily. “Good Raven. Make it work.”