Boreal and John Grey Season 2 by Chrystalla Thoma Page A

told herself it wasn’t a bad omen or anything. Just nature. That was when she realized she was looking for a sign that the good times would last.
    She drew the curtains, hiding the damn trees and the gathering dusk. Mike’s apartment was softly lit with candles and the long table was set for four. “So where’s birthday boy?”
    Mike, who was setting a steaming tray on the table, nodded vaguely in the direction of the kitchen. “Scott’s getting his hands dirty. He doesn’t cook often, but when he does, it’s good stuff.”
    “And in three days it’s your anniversary, huh?” Ella smiled at Mike who looked cute, his dark hair in spikes, his t-shirt smudged with grease.
    “Yeah, Six months, baby, can you believe it? New world record. We’re going out, yes? You’d better have it marked in your calendar in bold, red letters.”
    “Yup. Scott threatened to kill me if I don’t show up.”
    “And Finn?”
    “Scott’s a smart guy. He knows he can’t threaten Finn if he wants to live.” Ella stole an olive from the table and danced away from Mike’s swatting hand.
    Mike had made it his life’s mission to show Finn the fun in life. After a couple disastrous experiments, he now went for small, quiet restaurants rather than busy, noise bars and clubs.
    “So where’s elf boy?” Mike wiped his brow with the back of his hand and eyed the table critically, a brow raised. “Dinner’s ready and he promised to contribute.”
    “He’s been puttering around in the kitchen. Didn’t let me help.”
    “Good for him. He promised his patented cassava chips.”
    “Yes!” Ella punched the air. Finn had made them a couple of times, after repeated requests. “I love that stuff. I should probably go help him bring the food over.”
    Finn chose that moment to open the dining room door, a plate of chips in one hand. He was dressed in black from head to toe and his hair glinted silver. He wore no bandana and his ears showed through, the points grey. He looked damn good.
    “Ella, stop drooling and go help Scott bring the rest, yeah?” Mike gave her a nudge, his eyes twinkling.
    A light flush rose to Finn’s cheekbones. It made Ella’s heart beat faster. Damn elf was adorable. And hot.
    Yet he was shutting her out and that hurt.
    “Hey, you’re all here.” Scott came out of the kitchen, holding a huge salad bowl. He grinned. “Ah, the chips are here. Finn, why don’t you put them on the table and take a seat? I’ll bring the wine.”
     Finn nodded but didn’t move. Ella was about to go make space for the salad on the table but caught a tick in Finn’s jaw, lines of pain around his mouth.
    Fuck it. She couldn’t stay pissed with him when he looked like that.
    She went to him, wrapped an arm around his slim hips and took the dish from his hands. “You okay?”
    He relaxed against her as she led him to the table. He limped badly, Ella noticed with dismay. Worse than usual.
    Swallowing her worry, she shoved him into a chair and took her seat beside him. She glanced at his haggard face. Come on, Finn, open up. Trust me.
    “All set,” Scott announced, returning from the kitchen with a bottle of chilled white wine. “Not to brag but I cooked an awesome dinner.”
    “With my aid.” Mike sniffed disdainfully. “Don’t worry, boy. You’ll learn under my tutelage.”
    Scott laughed and tackled Mike from behind in a full-body hug. “Yes, oh master.”
    “Now you’re giving me ideas,” Mike muttered, a wicked gleam in his eyes.
    Finn leaned back in his chair, a brow lifting.
    Scott presented the evening’s menu — marinated grilled steaks, steamed vegetables with ginger sauce, creamed spinach with bacon, a rocket-balsamic salad and Finn’s cassava chips. It smelled heavenly.
    “Dig in,” Scott said with a flourish and took his seat. “What are you waiting for?”
    “Looks great.” Ella turned to Finn.
    He flashed her a brilliant smile and her heart stuttered.
    She forced herself to look away.
    “Wine.”