The Loneliest Dragon at Christmas (An MM Monster Christmas #2)

Chapter 21

CHAPTER 21

J ack raised his head as Daniel entered.

“Tea and soup are ready.” Daniel carried in a tray.

Rising, Avery took the tray from him.

Immediately, Jack missed the warmth of Avery’s hand pressed to his knee. But he shouldn’t. He’d put a stop to things with Avery. He shouldn’t be enjoying Avery’s touch anymore.

“I will take care of him,” Avery said to Daniel, his voice still rumbling.

And despite himself, it sent a shiver of pleasure along Jack’s spine. Avery put the tray on the floor and offered Jack the bowl of soup.

“Thank you.” Jack took the warm bowl. He lifted it to his lips. He sipped, and when he realised it wasn’t too hot, Jack swallowed a mouthful of the silky-smooth soup. The heat spread down his throat and into his belly. Jack licked his lips.

Avery watched him intently. “It’s good?”

Jack nodded. “Delicious. Chestnut soup is one of my favourites. In autumn, my brother Briar always collects chestnuts from the forest. We eat chestnut soup for days.”

Avery smiled. And that chased away the last of the cold from Jack’s bones. His heart skipped.

Maybe Jack had made a mistake. Maybe he and Avery could find a way to work out their differences. Maybe they could be together.

“Do you have any food preferences?” Avery asked.

Jack frowned. “What?”

“I think dinner isn’t too far away. But I can ask Cook to change her plans if it doesn’t suit you. I think she was planning on roast pheasant.” Avery glanced at Daniel in the doorway, a question in his tone.

Daniel gave a nod. “I believe so, sir.” The servant had been standing there silently, hands behind his back, waiting for Avery to request something of him.

Like a rush, the unease returned and Jack remembered why he and Avery couldn’t be together. Avery was wealthy in a way Jack couldn’t comprehend. He couldn’t understand a world where someone would change an almost-cooked dinner for something else on a whim.

Of course, he had likes and dislikes. But in his family, you just ate whatever was put before you at mealtime and said thank you. Especially if that something was as expensive as roast pheasant.

Still to this day, when Jack sat to eat, he felt grateful they had enough food. He would watch his younger siblings as they ate with a sense of satisfaction and joy, knowing that together they’d managed to provide for and nourish one another.

Jack still remembered worrying if there would be enough food to go around. He remembered all the nights he’d gone to sleep, stomach aching with hunger, so his younger siblings wouldn’t have to go without.

Jack couldn’t live like Avery. He cared for him. He liked him. Avery was sweet and kind and so lovely it hurt to look at him. But they had lived different lives. Jack couldn’t see how they’d bridge that.

And still, Daniel just stood in the doorway, awaiting a word from his master. How did one get used to a servant lingering in the room? How did Avery not feel deeply uncomfortable?

Jack had always known people with this sort of wealth existed. But he’d always been so below those people that he’d never witnessed it.

“But if you don’t like roast pheasant, she can make something else, I’m sure,” Avery said.

“Roast pheasant is fine.” Jack dropped his gaze to the brown soup.

“Are… Are you sure, Jack?” Avery leaned towards him. “It won’t be a hassle to find something else. Of course, she can’t go to the markets in this weather. But I believe there is some cold ham we could have instead. Maybe some smoked haddock. She could make some more chestnut soup.”

In Avery’s tone, Jack could hear his desire to please him. It tore at Jack. Because with each word, Jack’s stomach dropped further and further. Jack was a hearth and kitchen witch. He put all his heart and soul into his baking.

The cook had no doubt worked hard on preparing the pheasant. Jack didn’t know her at all, but her hands had prepared the food. And to please his guest, Avery would cast that work and effort easily aside without a second thought to her efforts.

“Daniel, could you ask Cook what she has on hand?” Avery asked.

Daniel turned to leave.

“No! Pheasant sounds delicious.” Jack forced a smile. He should try to act grateful. Avery was trying to please him, after all. But the way he did it made Jack so ill at ease. Yet it wasn’t Avery’s fault. They were just too different.

“I’m sorry for being such a bother,” Jack said. “I feel terrible for turning up like this, and now you need to look after me.”

“It’s fine, Jack. I want to look after you,” Avery said.

And somehow that made the guilt even worse.

Fuck! Jack was a terrible guest. He’d shown up on Avery’s doorstep, and now he judged Avery, just because he’d never known what it was like to be desperate, starving, and without.

Avery looked to Daniel. “Let us know when dinner is ready.”

With a bow, Daniel left. But his departure didn’t put Jack any more at ease. How could he be in this apartment?

An awkwardness stretched between them. Neither knew what to say or do. Which was entirely Jack’s fault. After all, he’d been the one who decided to come here, and now he was stuck until the snow passed.

Should he apologise again? Try to clear the air?

“I’ll put your tea here.” Avery set it on the table beside him. Then he rose and took a seat opposite Jack. “Will your siblings be worried?”

Jack frowned. He’d not thought of that. “I don’t think so. I left a note saying I was coming here. Hopefully, they’ll assume I got here safely.”

“And Carrie?”

“She’s in the apartment. And they’ll look after Carrie.” And once the snow cleared a little, he would head out. He glanced towards the window. But for the moment, the snowfall continued.

Jack finished his soup and then drank his tea quickly. He stared into the empty cup.

“Do you want more tea? How about some cake?” Avery asked.

“No, thanks. I’m fine.”

The wind whirled outside. The fire crackled. Neither spoke, and the awkwardness settled in the space between them.

Jack cleared his throat. “Have you got any plans for Christmas Day?” Jack cast for a topic.

Avery’s shoulders tensed. “Oh. Nothing much.” His voice sounded strained. “I just spend the day here.”

“With your father?” Jack asked.

“No,” Avery said blankly. “My father is very busy.”

Jack frowned. He wanted to ask more. But it would be rude to push. Especially now with everything so broken and fractured between them.

“What’s it like?” Avery asked.

“What’s what like?

“Christmas with your family.” Avery’s voice didn’t quite sound natural.

“Um. We eat together. There is usually lots of food.” At least, there was these days. “Lots of gifts. Although nothing fancy.” Self-consciousness reared up inside Jack as he thought of the gifts they gave, often second-hand, handmade, nothing that would fit into Avery’s world.

The self-consciousness rankled. Jack shouldn’t feel ashamed of his family. Not after everything they’d achieved together. Not after all the work they’d done to survive.

“It’s true we don’t have a lot. But what’s important is that we celebrate together. It doesn’t matter if we aren’t eating the best food or giving the most expensive gifts. That’s not what is important.”

Avery stared at Jack. Jack couldn’t read his expression. Was Avery judging him?

“What sort of food?” Avery asked.

Jack took a second, surprised at the question. “Simple fare. Potatoes, beans, some sort of roast bird, fresh bread, meat pies. And of course cake, pudding, and cookies. We all pitch in. And there is plenty of hot chocolate.” They saved so they could splurge for the day.

“It sounds lovely,” Avery said.

Jack blinked at Avery, shocked at the longing in his voice.

More questions filled Jack’s head. Jack opened his mouth. Then he remembered he didn’t have a right to ask.

The sooner he got out of here, the better.

“Sir.”

Avery turned to Daniel. “Dinner ready so soon?”

“Not yet, sir.” Daniel glanced between them. “But Cook wanted me to inform you that the snowstorm won’t be stopping soon.”

“Snowstorm?” Jack repeated.

“She says it will come down heavier shortly,” Daniel said. “She does not believe Master Berry will be able to leave tonight.”

“How does she know?” Jack rose and walked to the window.

“Cook is a winter sprite. She can sense how long a snowstorm will last,” Avery explained. “How long does she think?”

“At least three or four days. Maybe longer.”

“I see,” Avery said. “Please make the arrangements and have the guest room prepared.”

Daniel bowed and left.

Jack stared at the white beyond. “Shit, Avery. I’m so sorry.”

How was he supposed to stay in Avery’s home for three or four days, maybe even longer?

He needed to go home. He didn’t belong here. He couldn’t stay here.

But it looked like he wouldn’t be going anywhere soon. He was snowed in with Avery.