Chapter 19-1
571 Words
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Adalard appreciatively sniffed the delicious aroma of the cooking food as he entered Samara’s apartment. He could hear her moving around in the small kitchen area. Soft music played in the background.
He removed his jacket and placed it on a hook by the door. A knock beside him caused him to turn in surprise. He opened the door and saw Bear standing outside with a nervous, lopsided grin on his face.
“Hey, Adalard. How are you doing this evening?” Bear greeted.
Adalard frowned when he saw the other man holding a bottle of wine. It took him a moment to realize that Bear was staring in awe at the glowing flowers in his hand. It was too late to hide them.
“What are you doing here?” he demanded.
“Oh, good! You’re both here on time,” Samara greeted with a warm smile.
“Both…?” he asked with a frown.
Samara wiped her hands on her apron. “Yes. I ran into Bear at the gas station this afternoon and invited him over for dinner.”
Be nice! He just found out his grandmother isn’t doing well and he is having a rough time, she cautioned.
“It smells delicious,” Bear greeted. He belatedly held out the bottle in his hand. “I brought some wine.”
Samara took the bottle. “Thank you. Dinner is almost ready. Why don’t you two go into the living room? I have some appetizers set out.”
“I have some flowers for you,” Adalard added, holding them out to her. He had changed them to look like the bouquet Ann Marie had set out at the main house.
Samara smiled up at him while Bear stared at the new bouquet with a perplexed frown.
“They are beautiful. Thank you,” she murmured.
“Weren’t those different a moment ago?” Bear mumbled in a confused voice.
“A play of light on them,” he casually responded as Bear continued to stare at the blooms with a bewildered expression.
“I’ll put them in a vase. You two enjoy the snacks I left out,” she instructed.
Adalard watched her return to the narrow kitchen. Several pots simmered on the stove, and the makings of a salad were on the counter near the sink. He returned his attention to Bear when the other man spoke.
“She has really made this place look nice,” Bear commented.
“Yes,” he agreed.
Bear cleared his throat. “So… how are you enjoying your stay here? Has Mason taken you out on the course yet?”
Adalard frowned, trying to follow the other man’s question. It took a second for him to remember that Bear believed he was here to do the survival training. His expression cleared and he shook his head.
“I am not here to complete the training,” he replied.
“If you’re not here for the training, what are you here for?” Bear asked.
“I am simply visiting your world,” he replied.
“My world? That definitely confirms that you aren’t from around here,” Bear chuckled, picking up one of the bruschetta appetizers that Samara had placed on the small table near the window.
“Bear, could you pour the wine?” Samara called.
“Sure,” Bear responded, stuffing the small piece of garlic, tomato, and mozzarella topped bread into his mouth.
Adalard silently cursed his slip of the tongue. His irritation and jealousy were making him sloppy. He held out his hand and took the wine glass from Bear when the man returned. He noticed the slight, puzzled crease on Bear’s forehead and knew the man was thinking about his reply.
“You know, I don’t think Samara ever said exactly where you were from,” Bear began.
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