Chapter 14

14

ADRIAN

If I had a kink, and as far as I know, I don't, it would definitely be Isaac praising me. Yes, it's the same tone he uses with Simon, so he doesn't mean it that way.

But I want more of it.

The dinner goes smoothly after that. I feel a strange sense of accomplishment. From cutting a tomato. But I wanted to prove to Isaac that I could do it. This basic task that most people can do. I'm not going to overthink it. Whenever Isaac's eyes reach mine, they are full of that fondness I'm becoming quite addicted to. Simon talks constantly and Isaac reminds him more than once to not speak with his mouth full. I eat my salad first, not even thinking about why that is until Simon brings it up.

"Aren't you going to try the tater tot casserole?"

"Of course, I—" That's when it registers that they aren't eating in any sort of order. "Sorry."

"Adrian?"

That Dad-voice. I square my shoulders and smile at them. "In the palace, we eat in a certain order. The soup is served first. Then the appetizer and then the salad. Once we are done, they bring out the entrée."

"The ant tree?" Simon's eyes widen.

"No, the entrée." I point at the tater tot casserole.

"What if you get full on vegetables and aren't hungry?"

"Exactly." I wave a hand. "It's an imperfect way to eat a meal."

"Then why eat like that?" Simon asks with a shrug, making it sound so easy.

I start to answer when Isaac holds up his hand. "Adrian will eat his casserole when he's ready." His smile is apologetic.

"Which is right now. This looks so yummy." I give Simon an exaggerated grin as I dip my fork into the mixture of tater tots, cheese, ground beef, and green beans. That's a surprise. I wrap my lips around the bite and—oh my God. I moan and Isaac coughs. I grin at him. Right. Dial it down a bit. It won't be easy because this tastes amazing. I take another bite, holding back the moan this time. "How have I not had this before?"

Simon shrugs as if I expected an answer. Then he shakes his head and whispers, "Don't talk with your mouth full. Daddy doesn't like it."

I nod conspiratorially and dutifully swallow my food.

"Oh my God," Isaac says with a laugh.

I eat all the food on my plate and have seconds. I usually pick at my food, which is why I'm hungry again at midnight or get extra food between meals from Celia. But no one is watching me, waiting to take my plate. Stoic, so I can't tell what they're thinking. As an imaginative child, I always came up with my own reasoning.

I push away the last few bites still on my plate.

"Everything okay?"

"Yes. Just…realizing a few things."

"Anything you want to share?" His eyes dart to Simon and back to me.

"Maybe later."

He inhales quickly. "Is there a…later?" He places his napkin on his plate and shrugs. I wait to answer until he's looking at me.

"I'd like there to be."

"Good. Yes." He bites his lip and looks at me from under his lashes. I hold in my groan but let the heat in my eyes tell him what I'm thinking. I want to be the one destroying his mouth.

His cheeks are as red as the tomatoes in the salad. He clears his throat. "Time to clean up."

Simon groans, and I join him just for the fun of it. I don't mind helping at all. I take my cues from the almost six-year-old as he puts the utensils in the sink and the trash in one bin while pointing to another. "That's for cycling."

I nod my understanding as I decipher his meaning. Recycling. I add my plate to the sink as Isaac rinses everything and loads it into the dishwasher. It doesn't take long, and the pride I feel for helping clean up is ridiculously over the top. I didn't invent something like my brother. Or rule a country like my parents. I cleaned up from dinner.

"Thank you for helping," Isaac says, taking my hands. "I really appreciate it."

So what if I didn't find a cure for cancer? This…helping Isaac in any way, beats all that. I don't push the pride away. Instead, I hold it carefully, nurturing it. It's been a while since I've felt anything resembling this. Not since Mrs. Glenn.

"You're amazing, Adrian."

"I'm really not."

He shakes his head and pulls me into the living room. "Simon? What's the number one rule in our house?"

"Wash your hands after you poop."

"Oh my God." Isaac hides his face against my chest. I laugh and kiss the top of his head.

"Oh, wait. Daddy's not always right, but he is the boss."

"That's not… Where's that stork? I'm sending you back. You're malfunctioning."

"Noooo." Simon's shrieks float through the house as Isaac chases him around the room. He finally catches him and swings him into the air.

"Oh, Mr. Stork…"

Simon giggles as he tries to get free. "Help me, Prince Adrian."

I join the fray, wrapping my arms around them and tugging on Simon. But, of course, Isaac is not letting go. I slip my other hand under Isaac's shirt. He doesn't pull away, but his hold on Simon relaxes enough that I can pull him free. The only problem? My hand likes where it is. The feel of his muscle…Simon races away from us, and Isaac turns in my arms.

"Is that how you want to play this, Your Highness?" His hand snakes under my shirt and tickles me. I yelp in surprise. Wiggling around, I try to get away from his roaming hands, but he has more experience than I do at this. Clearly. Simon joins in, tickling us both until we fall on the couch laughing.

Simon jumps up and runs into the other room.

"He deserted me," I say with a pout.

"He gets bored easily."

"How about Daddy?"

"Not as easily."

Isaac snuggles against me, and I don't want him to move. Ever. I push his hair away from his face. Even with the air conditioning, the room is hot. Or maybe that's the heat we're generating.

"I'm sorry," Isaac says, not sounding sorry at all. "I'm not trying to start anything but…" Before I can ask what he's talking about, he kisses me, and nothing else matters. His kisses are light and playful, except every so often, his mouth lingers, he bites my lip, or he dips his tongue inside.

"Isaac," I say with a moan.

He quickly pulls back. "Sorry. Sorry."

"Maybe we should just talk. Without using our hands."

"Fine." He sits up, but I hold on to him so he can't go far.

"Tell me about Christy."

He frowns. "What about Christy?"

"He's Simon's uncle, I know that. And Jane's brother?"

He laughs, shaking his head. "No, but I can see how you'd think that. Christy was married to Jane's sister, Emily."

I lean back in the crook of the couch and pull Isaac between my legs, his back to my chest. "And Emily…died?"

"Yes. It was a car accident. A few years before Simon was born. Emily would have adored Simon. She was always full of joy. Charmed everyone she met."

"I'm sorry, Isaac." I wrap him in my arms. "And that poor girl."

"Lanie?"

"Yes." I rest my chin on his shoulder and press my cheek against his. "She lost her mom. And then her aunt disappears. Is that why Christy is so angry with Jane?"

"They were close. I think she was like a kid sister to him. Emily doted on Jane. Anyway, it wasn't one big thing. Broken promises. Holidays missed. Disappearing for months at a time—until that turned into years. Borrowing money from Lanie—and she was nine or ten at the time and saving money for a horse—and lying about what she needed it for. Plus, Christy is protective of Simon."

"And you."

He gives me a funny look, as if he never really thought of it before. "Huh. Christy was pissed when I told him Jane drained all the money from our bank account and took off. Simon had just turned two."

I hadn't thought about the financial impact. Had he struggled for money? Does he struggle now? Is that why he works two jobs? Even though he doesn't seem very fond of one of them. "I'm sorry. You've been through so much."

Isaac's fingers brush over my forearms. "Thank you."

Despite all the adversity, he's one of the strongest people I know. While I'm the opposite.

My heart beats wildly like a flock of birds. Can he feel it? "When I ran on the eve of my wedding, I was on my way to Sumner, Missouri."

He turns in my arms. "Sumner?"

"It's near Kansas City."

He laughs. "I know where it is, Adrian. I just don't know why."

"It's rather embarrassing, actually." My voice is barely a whisper.

"Now I have to know," he says just as softly.

I cover my face with my hand. The house is quiet. The hum of the dishwasher. The chirp of the insects outside. A crash or yell as Simon plays with his toys. Isaac's chuckles against my neck. I had a sound machine when I was a young boy. The sound of a quiet rain would put me right to sleep. Now I want these sounds. I sigh and prepare myself for questions. "Geese."

"Geese?" He sits up, jostling us both. "Are you a hunter?"

"What? No."

"People go to Sumner to hunt geese."

"That's concerning. She never mentioned—" I stop because I feel stupid. Gullible.

"Who?"

Can I really admit this? But I don't want to hide from Isaac. "I had a governess. Mrs. Glenn. She was very encouraging." Told me I was more than the crown. More than my title. "She was British, but her daughter lived in the States. In Sumner. And she would tell me stories about the geese."

"Did she tell you about the forty-foot-high goose statue in the middle of town?"

"Maxie." I grin at the memory. "The world's largest goose. Have you ever seen it?"

"No. But I've thought about taking Simon to see it. Maybe during their annual goose festival."

I blink away unbidden tears. Isaac didn't laugh. Or tell me I was being ridiculous. I bow my head. Will he think I'm being silly for getting emotional over a goose?

"Hey." He tips my chin with his fingers. "What's going on?"

I shake my head and smile. "Geese mate for life. Did you know that? They're very loyal and protective creatures. Mrs. Glenn told me that geese search until they find their mate. They don't—" I swipe at my eyes. I'm never this emotional. Not anymore.

"They don't what, Adrian?"

I shrug my shoulders. "They don't settle. And it was obvious that I, that Jasella—I couldn't marry her. I just couldn't."

Isaac hugs me, and I soak in his goodness. His strength. "She sounds amazing."

"She was."

"Was?" He leans back and looks at me. "Did she die?"

I laugh, and it has a slight edge of hysteria. "I don't know. One day, she was just gone. I think…" I try to pull away, but Isaac holds on.

"You don't have to tell me." He kisses my cheek.

"As I said, I'm not sure. I think my parents fired her."

"You're kidding. Why would they do that?"

"I was only eight, so I'm not entirely sure. But my mother has informed me many times over the years that Mrs. Glenn filled my head with nonsense."

"Oh, sweetheart." Isaac kisses me softly and pulls me into his arms. "I'm so sorry." His kindness. His care. His unconditional…fondness are things I don't get often. And while I shouldn't get this emotional over something that happened seventeen years ago, I crave this intimacy between us. Isaac squeezes my hands. "Did you ask your parents about it?"

"When she first left, I did. But all they would say is that she had to go away. But I knew that couldn't be true." Isaac studies my face, his brow furrowed in question, and I shrug. "She would never leave me."

Those are the thoughts of an eight-year-old, but Isaac doesn't call me on it. He wraps his arms around me and rests his cheek against mine. My chest feels tight, and I don't want to think about Mrs. Glenn or geese or my parents.

Simon makes exaggerated crashing sounds from his room. Has the entire kingdom been destroyed by the T-Rex? But I don't focus on it for long. Because Simon is occupied.

I capture Isaac's lips with mine. He cups my face with his hands and deepens the kiss. Nothing else matters but this. The sound of our kisses. The taste of Isaac mixed with the salt from my tears. His moans as he slides his tongue —

Eeeernt . Eeeernt .

I jump, knocking Isaac to the floor as my heart tries to claw its way out of my chest. The sound echoes through the house.

Eeeernt . Eeeernt . Eeeernt .

"Shit, shit, shit." Isaac scrambles to his feet. "Sorry. I forgot," he says over the noise.

" Red alert . Red alert . Simon, it's time for bed . Please wash up and make your way to your quarters ."

It starts to repeat the blaring sound, and Isaac yells for the alarm to stop. His face flushes red, and he shrugs. "We love Star Trek ."

I laugh, rubbing my face. "I've noticed."

"I'm a geek, okay?"

"An adorable geek."

He shakes his head as if he doesn't believe me.

"I don't want to go to bed. Adrian is here. And he's a prince."

"Doesn't matter. It's bedtime, Simon."

He flings his arms wide. "A prince, Daddy."

"I don't care if the King of England is here. Bedtime."

Simon huffs and stomps to his room. When Simon returns in mismatched pajamas—an Avengers shirt and Finding Nemo pants, Isaac deems it close enough, and they go off to brush Simon's teeth.

When that is finished, Simon grabs my hand, and I follow him and Isaac to his room. Isaac nods to the bookshelf. "What do you want me to read?"

"I don't want a book. I want Prince Adrian to tell me a story."

"Me? I don't know any stories."

He narrows his eyes, looking remarkably like his father. "I don't believe you."

"You can do this," Isaac says, nudging me with his shoulder.

So I tell Simon a story about a mad scientist who lives in the dungeon of a castle and doesn't want to be disturbed. "Everyone but the prince is afraid of him, and one day?—"

"What's his name?"

Isaac bites back a laugh.

"Phillipe."

Simon gasps. "Like your brother?"

This kid has a great memory.

"It turns out this mad scientist is the prince's brother, but he's under the spell of an evil sorcerer." I elaborate quite a bit on how the prince tries to rescue his brother from the dungeon, but the spell of the evil sorcerer is too strong.

"What's the evil sorcerer's name?"

"Seriously?"

"You have to tell the story right. That's what Daddy says."

Isaac grins at me. "Absolutely correct."

"Fine…the evil sorcerer is named Luka."

Simon's eyes widen, but before he can ask whatever question he has next, Isaac tells him it's bedtime.

It doesn't take long for him to fall asleep. And then the nervousness is back. As much as I've dreamed of this moment—being alone with Isaac—now that it's here, I want to hide. There are things more embarrassing than never having held a knife.

I've never touched another man.