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I enjoyed looking at him and how the soft lights from overhead played in his hair. It reminded me of the way the Snow Fairies danced atop the Northern Lights. I still remembered that one night when we’d been lucky enough to see them. And how the light had illuminated Stígur’s face, his elegant nose, and his strong jaw.

“It’s difficult to imagine why we fight each other when beauty like this exists, Kjartan.”He had taken my hand and linked our fingers.“Every time they dance, I think peace must be near.”My hand had still been whole again back then…

Stígur got separated from our guerrilla cell soon afterwards. We heard that the Gat killed him a few weeks later.

That was when I fled, the coward that I was. I should have sacrificed myself for my homeland. Perhaps it would have been my death that had made the difference. But I had been selfishly clinging to this flawed life.

Thor, I miss my home.

“Here you go,Brewtiful,” he said with a laugh as he put a large plastic container with a mountain of whipped cream on top in front of me. “I hope I didn’t mistake you as a whipped cream person.” He pursed his sinful lips at me.

“No,” I muttered. “No, you didn’t. Thank you.”

“It was my pleasure.”

I took my coffee to a small table from where I could observe the barista serving a few more people before a woman with dark ginger hair came to take over.

Perhaps he would leave now or mingle with the other guests. I hoped for the latter, because it meant I could keep watching him.

I couldn’t believe it when he walked up to my table.

“Hey. May I sit down for a moment?”

“Yes, of course,” I replied and cleared my throat.

“Thanks.” He plopped down on the chair next to me, sliding one elegant leg over the other and tilting his body closer tome. “Did you enjoy the coffee I made for you?” His voice was conspiratorial.

“Yes, I did. Thank you…”

“Beryl,” he said. Yes, how could I have forgotten? His eyes travelled slowly down my body, and he smirked as if he liked what he saw. Heat crept up my neck under his scrutiny. “You can call me Bee if you want. All my friends do.”Friends?“What are you up to after the party?” His silver eyes pierced me.

I’d wait for my boss to be ready to go home, which wouldn’t take too long. I glanced over to where Struan stood with his small son Tristan in his arms. The child had his arms slung around his father’s neck, and his eyes were already drooping.

“Nothing,” I told him truthfully.

Is he suggesting what I think he is?

“Shame.” Beryl sucked on his straw, keeping my gaze locked on him the entire time. “You look like you shouldn’t be alone tonight.”

He’s so beautiful.

“I’m going to leave in a bit and will head home, or wherever the night takes me.” His tone was casual. “I’m going right”—raising a hand he indicated turning right at the door of the cafe—“down to the bus stop at the end of the street.”

“Okay…” I stared at him like an apparition.

“And I’ll be waiting there for ten minutes before I get on the bus. See you, gorgeous.”

He got up, slipped his coat over the delicate silver corset he wore, and left. I was in half a mind to storm right after him.

What if I misunderstood?

The worst thing that can happen is that he changes his mind so I’ll have to come back here.

I told Struan that I’d go have a beer somewhere in town and take the train back home and left for the bus stop.

Are the ten minutes already over? Am I too late?

I arrived at the stop and found him sitting on one of the metal seats. An aura of disappointment surrounded him as he stared at his feet.