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One thing at a time, I guess. Juniper will have the rest of this night planned by now, divided into time slots. But I’ll wiggle in a few of my own, starting with breakfast. I’ll make her a dish that’s native to my culture, something orgasmically palatable that’ll blow her tastebuds to smithereens. I flatter my roguish self, but I wager she’ll love it so much, the huntress will forget to gobble the food in her preferred order: sides first, main course second.

Then maybe we’ll take a ride with Sylvan before heading to the mountain. Apparently, Tímien is coming to get us. I can’t wait to see the look on Juniper’s face when she realizes we’re flying to the tower. More than that, I can’t wait to see her reaction when she discovers this world from those heights.

Juniper gasps, the noise tugging me out of my reverie. One of her palms lands on her stomach, a stumped expression distorting the huntress’s features.

“What is it?” I ask. “Everything okay?”

After a second, she relaxes and nods with a bemused tilt of her lips. “Yes, I just…felt a little lurch. It’s nothing. I must be hungry.”

Huh. Sounds like it.

I’m about to pluck her off my lap, so I can make good on breakfast, when the notebook catches my eye. Suddenly, I recall that riveted, zealous look on her face from earlier. “What were you writing?”

Juniper raises her head, her cheeks mottling. “I was working.” With an impulsive energy wholly out of character for her, she twists to collect her notebook and spectacles, then faces me. While straddling my waist, she plops the lenses onto her nose and flips through the pages, her fingers jittery with excitement and a smidgen of self-criticism. After finding the spot she’d been looking for, Juniper peers at me with eyes made of spruce.

“I’ve…,” she begins. “I’ve been writing something. I thought you might like to hear it?”

My lips wreathe into a smirk. “Is this ‘something’ what I think it is, luv?”

Juniper purses her mouth to hide the smile. “Maybe.”

“In that case.” I gather the throw blanket and wrap it around us, caging us in warmth. And then I speak against her lips, “Tell me a story.”

***