Page 83 of Sent To A Fantasy World and Now All the Men Want Me 4

Food in hand and my taste buds dancing in anticipation, we walked toward the fountain to sit and eat. “This was supposed to be my treat to you.”

“Being in your presence is treat enough.”

“Okay, Prince Charming.” I plopped down on the ledge and snuggled into his side. The scent of magnolia blossoms mingled with maple. “This is nice. I can’t remember when you and I went on a date with just the two of us.”

“Neither can I.” He took a piece off the skewer and pressed it to my lips, smiling as I gobbled it up. “Life has been busy for us all, but I’m pleased we’re here now.”

“Me too.” I slowly chewed, savoring the sweet and savory combo of the boar. “Was it scary? Examining a dead demon?”

“No,” he answered. “I was fascinated, actually. Do you think me mad?”

I thought for a moment. “I read a book once where a character had that same question. ‘Have I gone mad?’ asked the hatter.”

“What was the response?”

I smiled. “I’m afraid so. But all the best people are.”

He returned my smile. “Then I suppose you are just as mad for loving me.”

“Oh, definitely. I’m absolutely bonkers.” I smoothed aside his bangs. His hazel eyes appeared so soft. It jostled the butterflies in my tummy. “But I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

We cuddled against each other as people passed us by. There was something enchanting about the atmosphere—the glow of lanterns and various light crystals strung throughout, along with the starlit sky above us. The evening was cool but not cold. I could almost hear winter exhaling its last breath.

“Are you warm enough, love?” Briar slipped his arm around me.

I nodded. “I love when you call me that.”

“It’s what my father used to call my mother.” He dropped his gaze to the half-eaten skewer. “I always found it romantic.”

I paused mid-bite. He hadn’t shared much about his past. All I knew was that his parents had fallen ill and died when he was younger.

Briar watched a couple walk past us. “He used to surprise my mother every night when he came home from work. She’d be in the kitchen cooking dinner, and he’d sweep in, ever so theatrically, and drop to one knee, offering her a flower he’d plucked on the walk home. Her laugh always put the warmest smile on his face. He’d then offer her a treat from his bakery. I remember how her face would light up, regardless of the number of times he’d done it. Fig bread was her favorite.” He gave a slight shake of his head. “Apologies. I’m sure you have little interest in—”

“No.” I placed my hand on his. “I want to hear more. Anything you want to tell me.”

“Not much to tell, I’m afraid.” He gently swiped his thumb along the edge of my lip, catching some maple glaze. “I was anonly child and had very few friends. I preferred the company of books.”

“Sounds familiar,” I said, and we shared a smile. “Where did you grow up? Here in Bremloc?”

“No. I lived in a town west of here. More of a village, really. I helped out around the house as much as I could. Even took on work as a pageboy and ran errands for extra coin. Otherwise, I had my nose shoved in a book. Alchemy fascinated me even back then, as did learning about rare plants. Tales of adventure too.”

“I’m trying to imagine you as a kid. Did you have glasses?”

“Yes,” he said with an adorable nose crinkle. “They were too big for my face, but I grew into them as I aged. Well, until I was playing by a stream once, pretending I was a swashbuckling rogue from my favorite novel, and tripped, losing them in the water.”

“Oh my god. I’m going to need you to reenact that. I want to see you as a pirate.”

He blushed. “I think not.”

I laughed.

Briar stood from the fountain ledge and offered me his arm. “Shall we continue our date, my love?”

“We shall.” I accepted his arm, stomach fluttering. Each of my men were swoon-worthy in their own special way, threatening to turn me into a puddle of Evan goo.

What happened when two bookworms fell in love?

Their dates often led them to the bookstore.