Sleigh Bells and Dragon Spells (Whispering Pines #8)

Chapter 30

THIRTY

M orning sunlight filtered through the frost-covered windows of Falkor’s cabin, creating rainbow prisms on the wooden floors. Briar stretched on the couch where she’d fallen asleep, wrapped in a thick blanket that smelled of pine and smoke—that smelled of him. Her body still tingled with awareness from their conversation the night before, from the way his voice had softened when he’d asked her to stay.

The sound of movement in the kitchen drew her attention. Falkor stood at the stove, his broad shoulders outlined by early morning light. He’d changed into a fresh black T-shirt that did nothing to hide his muscular frame, and his dark hair was slightly disheveled from sleep.

The sight of him so casual, so domestic, made her pulse quicken. There was something incredibly attractive about seeing this powerful dragon shifter doing something as ordinary as making breakfast.

“Are you actually cooking?” she asked, letting appreciation color her voice.

He glanced over his shoulder, and the heat in his golden eyes sent a shiver down her spine. “Dragons do eat, you know. We don’t survive on fire and intimidation alone.” His voice carried a playful rumble that made her toes curl.

“Could have fooled me.” Briar stood, deliberately taking her time stretching again before wrapping the blanket around her shoulders like a cape. She caught his eyes tracking the movement and smiled to herself. “Though I have to admit, this is a side of you I didn’t expect to find quite so... appealing.”

“Appealing?” He turned fully toward her, one eyebrow raised. The spatula in his hand did nothing to diminish his natural intensity. “Careful, little witch. Your attraction is showing.”

“Maybe I want it to show.” Briar padded into the kitchen, breathing in the smell of coffee and something sweet. She moved close enough to feel the heat radiating from his body. “After all, it’s not every day I get to see a powerful dragon shifter making me French toast.”

His eyes darkened at her proximity. “Only for witches who invade my solitude with Christmas decorations and refuse to let me brood in peace.”

“Ah, but you like my invasion.” She reached past him for a coffee mug, deliberately pressing against his side. His sharp intake of breath was deeply satisfying. “I can tell because you haven’t set any of my decorations on fire yet.”

“The day is young,” he growled softly, but his free hand settled on her hip, keeping her close even after she had her mug. The touch burned through her clothes, making her skin tingle.

Briar poured her coffee with deliberate slowness, very aware of his thumb tracing small circles on her hip. “Speaking of invasions...” She hopped up to sit on a clear section of counter, enjoying how his eyes followed her movement. “Did I ever tell you about the time I accidentally turned the orphanage Christmas tree into a tap-dancing menace?”

Falkor moved to stand in front of her, bracing his hands on the counter on either side of her thighs. The position brought them eye to eye, and her breath caught at his closeness. “I feel like I would remember that story.”

“I was twelve,” she began, fighting to keep her voice steady as his scent enveloped her. “And I’d just learned this animation spell. I thought it would be magical to make the tree do a little dance for the younger kids.”

“Why do I sense this didn’t go as planned?” His voice had dropped lower, more intimate.

“Because you’re very perceptive.” She took a sip of coffee, letting her legs brush against his sides. “Turns out, I got the incantation slightly wrong. Instead of a gentle sway, the tree broke free of its stand and started doing a full tap routine through the halls.”

A deep chuckle rumbled through his chest, the sound vibrating through her where their bodies touched. “Please tell me there’s more.”

“Oh, it gets better.” She set her coffee aside, letting her hands rest on his chest. The solid warmth of him under her palms was distracting. “The tree was still fully decorated, mind you. So there’s this eight-foot spruce charging down the corridor, ornaments flying everywhere, tinsel trailing behind it like a sparkly cape, and all the while it’s belting out ‘Tea for Two’ in perfect rhythm.”

Falkor’s laugh was full and rich, transforming his entire face. The sound wrapped around her heart like a caress. He was always handsome, but when he laughed like this, uninhibited and genuine, he was devastating.

“Have I mentioned how beautiful you are when you smile?” The words slipped out before she could stop them, soft and honest.

His laughter faded into something more intense. “Briar...” His hand came up to cup her cheek, thumb tracing her bottom lip.

“You are, you know.” She turned her face slightly to press a kiss to his palm. “Especially like this—relaxed, happy, making breakfast in your kitchen instead of brooding in the woods.”

“You make me want to be relaxed and happy,” he admitted, his voice rough with emotion. “You make me want things I haven’t let myself want in centuries.”

Her heart thundered in her chest. “Like what?”