Sweetest Fall Page 6

  Two cups appeared next to her, and she poured the coffee, glancing at the stack of pancakes piling up. She handed him a cup, and he sipped at it, looked at it, and grinned. “That’s pretty good.”

  “Years of working in an office. If the coffee sucks, your day sucks.”

  She went to the fridge and found some cream.

  With her coffee prepped, she leaned against the wall and watched her breakfast come together.

  “So, Lugh, what do you do on a daily basis?”

  He chuckled. “I have been enjoying photography, working with the horses. If they find the environment favourable and start to foal, then I can look into finding riders for them.”

  “Photography?”

  He grinned. “Ah, so many facets to me.”

  She wrinkled her nose, leaned over, and kissed his shoulder.

  He paused and smiled. “What was that for?”

  She sipped her coffee and smiled. “Your facets.”

  He paused, and his cheeks coloured.

  He flipped one of the pancakes on the griddle, and soon, the last of the batch was stacked up. When they were sitting and having breakfast, she mumbled, “I still need to find out what you want to donate to the collection, get the images, and send them to the museum.”

  He cocked his head. “Sure, as soon as we are done eating. I think your camera is still down there.”

  She nodded. “That’s right... hey, you said you didn’t take photos, but you just mentioned photography is your hobby.”

  Lugh looked innocent. “Did I? Well, I couldn’t possibly have any plots and schemes to get my bride here where I could refresh her memory, could I?”

  Orla wrinkled her nose. “Oh. Yeah. Right. I forgot about that.”

  “I didn’t.” His tone was grim.

  She reached out and squeeze his hand. “I am here now. You are here now. The horses are here now. Things can officially start.”

  He nodded. “I believe that I can deal with that.” He raised his coffee cup. “To beginnings!”

  She grinned. “To beginnings.”

  She sent images of the ten pieces that he was willing to donate with full provenance. She knew that they were elaborate and exquisitely made, but she had no idea where exactly they belonged on the horse.

  The side saddle that was embossed with oak leaves and gilding was pretty and light. She knew what it was just by looking at it.

  She asked him the same question she always asked. “If you put them into conservatorship with the museum, you will get a tax credit, and we will bear the cost of the insurance.”

  He asked her, “What would you recommend?”

  “The conservatorship. Keep the legal rights to the items and have the museum keep them cleaned and polished.” She finished the shots of the items he had picked out as what he was willing to part with.

  Being careful to not let herself be seen in the polished leather or metal was tricky, but she knew plenty of folks at the museum made a game out of finding out what was reflected and restoring the image.

  She went through the images on her camera and nodded. “They look good. The department will be delighted to get them into their clutches.”

  “Speaking of clutches. You have been out of mine for too long.” He pulled her to her feet and wrapped his arms around her.

  She sighed, leaning into him. Orla wrapped her own arms around him and breathed him in. Apples.

  She looked at her horse and chuckled. “Stand still. This is as weird for you as it is for me.”

  He laughed. “You can move. Just move slowly.”

  An elf moved around in the snow with a camera.

  The wind picked up and moved her cloak up and out, away from the formal court dress.

  He laughed. “You are supposed to be mysterious and magical. Not looking like you want to punch your beloved.”

  She gave him a smouldering look. “I want to do a lot of things with my beloved.”

  He paused and gave her a look over the camera. He cleared his throat. “Right, do whatever you like.”

  Orla grinned and got onto her horse’s back. She whispered what she wanted, and the mare reared and bolted across the field of newly fallen snow.

  When they turned and headed back to her elf, he looked at her through the lens of his camera. She smiled and dismounted in a flurry of silk, velvet, and gilded embroidery.

  She stroked the jaw of the mare, and she got a sympathetic nudge from the large head.

  She turned and looked at Lugh. She smiled. “Are we done playing dress-up?”

  He smiled. “For today. I still need you to sign a model release.”

  “What?”

  “I will need you to sign a release. Just to make sure things are nice and legal.”

  She looked at him. “Is there anything I can do to convince you not to use those images?”

  He grinned. “No. The fey who stumble across this will see you for what you are, and the humans will begin to worship you.”

  She looked at him warily. “Why is that a desirable outcome?”

  “It will speed your acquisition of power.”

  “Why do I want that?”

  He smiled. “With power comes money, and then, we will have more time to spend with each other.”

  “Right now, that is not a selling point.”

  He looked hopeful. “A college fund?”

  She looked down and snorted. “Maybe. Eventually.”

  He inclined his head. He offered her his arm, and they walked away from her mare. She had already gotten her apple, so she was content.

  The stallion had not been invited to the photoshoot, and the moment they walked away, he was mounting his mate.

  Orla looked back, and then, with her eyes wide, she aimed her gaze forward. “Right. Never look back. Isn’t that a rule?”

  He laughed and put his arm around her. “They are just doing what we were up to this morning.”

  “Yeah, but they are wearing less clothing. And they are five times larger than we are.” Orla laughed. “And they are making less noise.”

  He smiled. “Wait for it.”

  The equine scream was familiar. “Geez. I don’t sound like that, do I?”

  He snickered. “No, but your heat sets her off.”

  “What the hell?”

  “She’s bonded to you, and during the two hundred years that we waited, she didn’t go into heat once. Not that she was fertile in Underhill. The herd didn’t increase by even one for the last several centuries.”

  They stepped into the house. “They must have a lot of time to make up for.”

  He laughed and swept her into his arms. “They aren’t the only ones.”

  She leaned her head against his shoulder and counted the minutes until she had to get back into the human world. The day job was going to suck after this.

  Orla was working at her desk when Carlos showed up.

  “I bet you are so proud of yourself for scoring those pieces? The exhibit head is wetting himself to get his hands on it.”

  She looked up and pulled her hands away from her keyboard. “Hello, Carlos, how was your weekend?”

  He leaned in. “Shut up and stay in your lane. I am taking the lead on contacting Mr. Fall from here on out.”

  She pinched the bridge of her nose, and then, she jotted down Lugh’s number. “Here you go. You can tell him I said hi.”

  Carlos looked at her. “Just like that?”

  “Sure. I have my own job cataloguing. I don’t really care as long as the museum stays open. Go. Shoo. Call him.” She smiled.

  She worked for a few more hours and then answered her private line. “Orla Aberlan.”

  “Hello, beloved. What are you doing for dinner?”

  She looked down to make sure that she was still clothed because his voice made her want to get naked with all speed.

  “Uh, I was going to go to the taco place near the museum.”

&n
bsp; “I believe I can do better.”

  She paused. “I really want tacos.”

  He paused and chuckled. “Then, tacos it is. What time shall I meet you at the museum?”

  She sighed. Driving time wasn’t an issue when he could create portals from wherever he was to wherever he wanted to be.

  “I get off at five.” She winced at her phrasing.

  “Give me fifteen minutes to make that happen.” His voice was made of amusement.

  She blushed and hung up.

  She waved her hands to provide her with some fresh air, and Una popped in.

  “Orla, what is with you today? You have this weird dreamy expression on your face, and if I didn’t know better, I would think you got laid.”

  Orla’s blush turned up to ten.

  Una grinned. “So, who was it?”

  “Um, someone I knew once and had forgotten about. He spent the weekend reminding me.” It was absolute truth and so far from what had happened.

  “Can I meet him?” Una grinned.

  “Probably. Are you going to deliver before the gala?”

  “Not if there is the chance of meeting a guy who can put that expression on your face.” Una nodded. “I am going to keep my legs crossed until I meet that guy.”

  Orla laughed, and she shook her head. “Go google Braxton-hicks or something.”

  Una nodded and headed back to her desk.

  Orla had quite a bit of work to do before she would be able to leave, so she had to get to it.

  Dexter called her while she was finishing the checklist for one of the teapot collections that had been sent as a bequest.

  “Orla, I need to talk to you about the equestrian project.”

  She looked at her supervisor and blinked. He had pointed ears, a green shade to his skin, and long brown hair that was at odds with his crewcut. He froze.

  She tried to play normal. “Yes? I told Carlos he could take over communication with the donor.”

  Dexter gave a short bow, and she clued in that he could see what Lugh had mentioned. She didn’t feel like the autumn queen, but apparently, she had the crown to fey eyes.

  “You did?” He looked curious, and a sense of irritation settled on him.

  She looked at him in surprise. “Of course. I am fine with cataloguing. The last thing I need is to be running out to cater to a horny horseman every few days.”

  “Your Highness, how is it that you—”

  She held up a wrist to show him the little bracelet that would not come off.

  He frowned. “So, the donor is...”

  “Lugh Fall, autumn king.” She shrugged. “We met once in Underhill, and I made an impression.”

  She felt his presence and turned toward the doorway. “And here he is.”

  Chapter Nine

  Dexter stared at her like she was crazy, but Lugh strode through the doorway a moment later.

  She smirked and looked at her boss. “Hah! Told you.”

  Lugh walked directly for her and kissed her deeply, ignoring their audience. Her clipboard was clamped in her hand, and he removed it and set it aside, wrapping her arms around him and running her hands over the thick muscles of his back.

  When he lifted his head, he looked at the other fey. “Hello. You work with Orla?”

  She licked her lips and slowly tried to pull out of his embrace. “This is my boss, Dexter. Dexter, this is Lugh Fall.”

  The bow was low and graceful. Orla was impressed.

  “So, what was the deal with Carlos?”

  “Uh, he says that you biased the donor against him, but in light of the situation, that is perfectly understandable.”

  Lugh rested his chin on her head. “She did nothing of the sort. I only agreed to donate to rekindle our connection. The politics of the office does not matter to me, she is with me again, and your other employee’s possessive nature is an internal issue.”

  Orla snorted. “That’s what you say, but I still have to work with that twit.”

  Dexter scowled. “He is trouble?”

  “He is possessive. He thinks he is the only one entitled to go and meet with patrons for donations. It only gets annoying with stuff like this when he goes running to daddy for help.” She clapped a hand over her mouth, but Dexter grinned.

  “It is hard to lie as a fey, and the more you have pent up, the harder it is going to come out.”

  She blinked, and Lugh chuckled. “It’s why you scream and cry and whimper mff—”

  She kept her hand clamped over his mouth and smiled brightly at her boss. “Right, so if that is it, I have a date with some tacos. And him.”

  Lugh laughed behind her hand.

  Dexter blinked. “Right. So, no, that was it. I will tell Carlos that he is going to be assigned exclusively to estates if he keeps trying to step on other acquisitions personnel.”

  She nodded and retrieved her hand from where Lugh had been drawing patterns on it with his tongue. “I just need to get my jacket and bag. You stay here.”

  He snorted and looked at Dexter. The smile that came over his features was slow and worthy of a cartoon villain. She didn’t delay.

  When she came back, they were looking at Lugh’s phone, and Dexter was staring in awe.

  He looked at her with a grin. “Orla, I didn’t know that you rode horses.”

  She snorted. “It is a new interest. I like climbing onto giant things that are eager to please.”

  Lugh laughed. “Your boss is a truth talker, but it only gets exacerbated around fey. The stronger the fey, the broader the effect.”

  Dexter cleared his throat. “I cause truth to come out.”

  “Yeah, I am getting that idea. Should I ask what you were looking at?”

  Lugh grinned. “Your photos are now uploaded and have begun to be purchased by publishing houses across the globe.” He smirked. “I wonder if they will keep your hair and skin or tan you with blonde locks.”

  She put on her coat. “Well, when you get tired of playing with your phone, I will be out the door, down three shops on the left, and deep throating tacos.”

  She paused, sighed, and headed for the door.

  Orla was out of the building when Lugh’s arm came around her. She leaned against him and said, “I had no idea about Dexter.”

  “He was shocked to his toes about you. Be warned, he may try to keep you in a good humour.”

  She led him to the shop, and he held the door for her. “That could be dangerous.”

  The woman at the counter smiled. “Orla, can I get your regular for you?”

  “Please. With tater tots.”

  “Of course. Nacho sauce and extra jalapeno?”

  “You know it. You are so good to me.” She dug out her wallet and gestured to Lugh. “I am getting whatever he wants as well.”

  He looked like he would argue, but instead, he asked, “What would you recommend?”

  The server smiled. “Carnitas, al pastor, and lingua, I think.”

  “It sounds good. You give me the portion, and I will eat it.” He smiled at the fifty-year-old woman.

  Orla ordered him a bottled soda, and they took them to one of the elevated tables with the tall chairs.

  He looked around the cozy restaurant that was half-filled. “This place is cute.”

  She nodded. “I know. It is adorable, and the tacos can melt your stomach with the right sauce.”

  Their order was up, so she slid off the chair and went to get them an assortment of sauces. She slid his tray in front of him and ran him through which sauces were which and which taco was which. She cleaned her hands with a wet wipe and dug in.

  She went for a combination of the hottest red and greenest mild. It was a good flavour mix. Her nose started running, and her skin tingled, but she kept eating.

  Lugh ate carefully, savouring and sampling the different hot sauces. He winced at two of them and kept things to the lower range of the heat level for his own ta
cos.

  She sipped at her green apple soda, and he sipped at the cherry, smiled, and kept going.

  When she finished her three, she blotted at her throbbing lips and smiled as he carefully made his way through the food.

  The moment he was done, he blotted his mouth and looked at her with amusement. “You eat this a lot?”

  “A couple of times a week. The other days I go to the deli and just grab a sandwich.”

  He shook his head. “Well, it explains your nerve in Underhill. You have a cast-iron soul.”

  She laughed and collected their trays, taking them to the drop point before returning to her seat to clean her hands again and finish her soda.

  He looked at his empty soda bottle, and then, he nodded. “I am going to get another one of these.”

  She grinned as he got a second soda, complimented the server on her establishment, and then returned to his seat. The server gave Orla a thumb’s up, and Orla laughed.

  He sipped at the soda. “Why does this taste different?”

  “Actual cane sugar and not corn syrup. It makes a lot of difference in the flavour.” She smiled.

  “So, you had no idea Dexter was fey?”

  She shook her head. “No, mind you, until I saw him today, I had no idea that I could even see the difference now.”

  He nodded. “You will notice more and more lesser fey. They recharge in Underhill and then return here to enjoy themselves and interact with mortals.”

  She wrinkled her nose. “I don’t see the appeal.”

  Lugh gave her a long look. “You are bright, alive, and live with energy. We are long-lived and lazy. Underhill has become distasteful and boring.”

  She smiled. “But you have hobbies?”

  He took her by the hand, and they left the restaurant, walking slowly. “You are not a hobby.”

  She held his arm and asked, “So, where are we wandering off to now?”

  He chuckled. “I thought we would head back to your place, and I can make a portal from there to my place in the country to allow you easy commuting.”

  She chuckled. “Which explains why you are walking us back to the museum.”