“Rune,” I said, the guilt lying thick within me.
I looked up to try and apologize again, but as I did, the server arrived, placing our drinks on the table. “Y’all ready to order?”
Without breaking my gaze, Rune said, “Two crawfish boils.”
I felt the server hanging by, but after a tense few seconds, he said, “I’ll get that to the kitchen then,” and edged away.
Rune’s eyes moved from my face to my ears, where that flicker of a smirk remerged. I wondered what had caused him this moment of happiness. Rune leaned forward, and with the backs of his fingers he pushed the hair from my face, tucking it behind my ear.
His fingertip traced down the outline of my ear, then he let out a comforting sigh. “You still wear them.”
The earrings.
My infinity earrings.
“Always,” I confirmed. Rune looked up at me with heavy eyes. “Forever always.”
Rune dropped his hand, but he caught the ends of my hair between his finger and thumb. “You cut your hair.”
It sounded like a statement, but I knew it was a question.
“My hair grew back,” I said. I saw him stiffen. Not wanting to break tonight’s magic with talk of illness or treatment, things that I paid no mind to anyhow, I leaned in and pressed my forehead to his.
“I lost my hair. Fortunately, hair grows.” Drawing back, I playfully flicked at my bob. “Plus, I kinda like it. I think I suit it. Lord knows it’s easier to handle than the mountain of frizz I fought against all those years.”
I knew it had worked when Rune huffed a single quiet laugh. Continuing the joke, I added, “Plus, only Viking men should wear their hair long. Vikings and bikers.” I scrunched up my nose as I pretended to study Rune. “Unfortunately you don’t have a bike…” I trailed off, laughing at the hard look on Rune’s face.
I was still laughing when he pulled me into his chest and, with his mouth at my ear, said, “I could get a bike, if that’s what you want. If that’s what it would take to win back your love.”
He said it as a joke.
I knew he did.
But it brought me up short. So short that I stilled, the humor draining out of me. Rune noticed the shift. His Adam’s apple bobbed and he swallowed whatever he was going to say.
Letting my heart rule my actions, I lifted my hand and dropped my palm to lie upon his face. Making sure I had his undivided attention, I whispered, “It wouldn’t take a bike to do that, Rune.”
“No?” he questioned, his voice husky.
I shook my head.
“Why?” he asked nervously. Redness blossomed on his cheeks. I could see what that question had cost his heavily fortified pride. I could see that Rune didn’t ask anything anymore.
Closing the gap between us, I said in a hushed voice, “Because I’m pretty sure you never lost it.”
I waited. I waited with bated breath to see what he would do next.
I wasn’t expecting tender and soft. I wasn’t expecting for my heart to sigh and my soul to melt.
Rune, with the most careful of movements, moved forward and kissed me on my cheek, only inching back to drag his lips across mine. I held my breath in anticipation of a kiss on the lips. A real kiss. A kiss I yearned for. But instead, he bypassed my mouth for my other cheek, giving it the kiss my lips longed to gain.
When Rune pulled away, my heart was beating like a drum. A loud bass in my chest. Rune sat back but his hand, in my hand, had tightened a fraction.
A secret smile took refuge behind my lips.
A sound from over the creek pulled my attention—a duck taking flight into the dark sky. When I glanced at Rune, I saw he was watching it too. When he looked my way, I teased, “You’re already a Viking. You don’t need no bike.”
This time Rune smiled. The merest hint of teeth showed through. I beamed with pride.