Týr took my baskets to tuck under his arm. “I’m curious what that was all about.”
I tried to take back my baskets. “Why are you taking those?”
“I’m going with you, wherever you’re headed.”
I pursed my lips. “Why? You were spending time with Ilka.”
His brow rose. “Spending time with? No. Being talked to while I was trying to find you, yes.”
My gaze slipped back over to her. She still stood there, glaring. “She would make good company.”
He smiled. “You make better company.”
Heat returned to my face, hotter this time. “I wouldn’t mind the company while I collect herbs and fish.”
“I’ll fish, you collect.”
I rolled my eyes. “I’m not going to make you do my tasks.”
“You’re not. I’m choosing to.” He smirked. “As much as I enjoy watching you work, I’m not going to sit on my ass while you do everything.”
I thought about this compromise. Watching him fish would be quite the pleasing sight. “Fine. But I at least need my herb basket back.”
He held the baskets out of my reach and headed for the edge of the village. “No, I’ll carry both.”
“Týr,” I warned. “Give me my basket.”
He smirked and then took off down the road. I gasped and chased after him, calling his name several times. Townsfolk were quick to move out of our path, most cackling at our antics rather than showing anger. Then again, with a god involved, who would be dumb enough to get angry?
I finally gained some ground on him once we left Runavík, and I managed to latch onto the bound baskets. “Ha, got it!”
Though his grip made it impossible to take them from him.
Týr slowed his pace until he came to a halt and he tugged the baskets, but I refused to let go. “Astrid.”
“Give it back, Týr.”
He lifted it higher, and I refused to let go. My feet rose off the ground, and still my grip didn’t fail me. Neither did the leather strap holding them together. Týr’s eyebrow lifted with surprise and interest. “You’ve got one hel of a grip.”
I smirked. “I’ve been told I know how to hold on tight.”
Týr stared at me for a long moment, and I swore I saw him swallow hard. He then set me back down on the ground, though didn’t relinquish either basket. “Did that man you were with tell you that?”
I grunted. “No, Bjarke and I have never enjoyed each other.”
He made a thoughtful sound and then tugged me closer. A quiet gasp escaped my lips. Týr pulled me against his hard chest and wrapped his muscular arm around me. The embrace blanketed me in warm protection and his strong masculine scent.
I liked it. I shouldn’t. I knew I shouldn’t if I didn’t want to be hurt, but I couldn’t help it. I was willing to pretend to be special enough for this god. I’d allow this man to be my downfall, if it meant I could have something I’d never have with another man.
“I’ll let you have the herb basket, if you answer my questions,” Týr said.
“All right.” I’d answer questions even if I wasn’t getting anything out of it. This was a bonus.
“What were you two talking about when he said he wouldn’t compete with me?”
“Ah…” My face flushed hot. “Well… Bjarke is Jarl Rune’s eldest son. And our jarl is trying to convince my father to marry us to add another strong marriage between our families.”
Týr remained quiet. A stoic expression blanketed his face, making it hard to read why.
