Forged in Fire by Ari McKay

Author:Ari McKay [McKay, Ari]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: gay romance
ISBN: 978-1-64080-697-9
Publisher: Dreamspinner Press
Published: 2018-05-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eight

“SO… this is my place,” Harlan said as he opened the door to his small house, then held it so Whimsy could step inside. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a visitor other than one of the members of his pack, and he found himself a little nervous about what Whimsy would think.

Harlan was an innately tidy person, so the house was clean, but it wasn’t a designer showplace. Much of his furniture was old, and he’d made most of it himself, since three centuries had given him a long time to get good at it.

The front door opened into a main room that served as living room and dining room, with his small kitchen merely an extension off to one side. There were only two other rooms—a bedroom and a bathroom—but there was a ladder leading up to what had originally been the attic. He’d removed the central part of the floor, leaving a walkway around the edge. But the thing that most people noticed first was that every available space on the walls was taken up by bookshelves, which extended up to the area below the roof. He rubbed the back of his neck, feeling himself blushing. “I, um… have a lot of books.”

Whimsy craned his neck to see the full extent of the bookshelves, and his eyes lit up with interest. “Have you read them all?” he asked, running his fingertips reverently along the spines within reach.

“Yes. And many of them more than once,” Harlan replied. He was glad Whimsy seemed pleased by his interest in books. “Here, let me take your coat. You can have any of the books you’d like. A lot of them are modern, of course, but I do have some very old ones. Some of them are so old I’m afraid to open them anymore.”

Whimsy shrugged out of his jacket and handed it to Harlan, his attention focused on the books. “I can help with that if you’re interested,” he said, tilting his head so he could read the titles. “Restoration and preservative magic is a thing.”

“I’d love it if you could help.” Harlan took Whimsy’s jacket and hung it on a hand-carved coat tree he’d made over a hundred years before. “Morag tells me the place is going to burn down around my ears someday. She’s probably right, but my books are my friends. They’ve kept me company for a lot of lonely years.”

Whimsy tore his attention away from the books and gave Harlan a sympathetic look. “I’ll help you restore and protect the older ones, and there are fireproofing charms too.” He caught his bottom lip in his teeth. “If you stay here, that is. We haven’t talked about the housing options if things work out.”

Harlan smiled. “This house is just a place. I love your home, Whimsy. It feels like a home. There is happiness there.” He gestured around at the walls. “I’ve been content here, but I can’t say I’ve been happy.”

“That’s understandable,” Whimsy said with a wry smile.

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