Missing Pieces: Chapter 22 - Operation Matchmaker
Blame Henry and the muse for this nice long chapter and an update. And thank the cooler weather that allows me to escape my house to write...
Chapter 22 - Operation Matchmaker
Pancakes. Why do I smell pancakes?
Emma struggled to open her eyes, her entire body leaden. Her eyelids—and apparently the rest of her body—refused to move, as though every ounce of energy had been sucked away. The only exception was her stomach which released a loud rumble.
They smell really, really good.
Soft tones of conversation floated to her, wrapping her in a cocoon of warmth, the voices familiar and right and… home.
Despite her hunger, her exhaustion proved too much, and the voices lulled Emma back to sleep.
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Killian watched Henry execute his best pancake flip to date. Almost all of it landed in the pan this time and Killian grinned. "You've about got it, lad." He kept his words just above the volume of a whisper, careful to not disturb Emma sleeping on the couch.
Henry beamed in pride, but it was short-lived. A frown of suspicion quickly took over. "Is this some sort of plot to get me to do more chores?"
Killian winked. "Perhaps. But given your mother's rule of 'those who cook don't have to clean,' would you rather usurp my role or stay on dish duty?"
Another grin, this one of a co-conspirator, wiped away the frown. "Show me how you do it again."
Two more demonstrations by Killian were followed by four more attempts from Henry—all but his second try landing in the pan, albeit a bit crookedly.
"Well-done, m'boy." Killian ruffled Henry's hair, watching the boy's cheeks flush. "I daresay the job is yours next time, should you want it."
They remained at the counter to eat, the table a bit too close to where Emma slept. Killian placed a healthy stack into a pan in the oven to keep them warm for her.
Henry piled his plate with four of the pancakes—the lad's appetite had increased as of late—dousing them in the sugary toppings both he and Emma loved. He took several large bites, carefully chewing and swallowing before he twisted around to face his mother. "It's not like Mom to sleep through pancakes. Are you sure she's okay?"
Killian scratched the back of his neck with his fingers, trying to formulate an answer that contained what truth he could share while not divulging his own concerns. "I believe so. Your mother merely had a very long, tiring night she needs to recover from."
She barely stirred when I carried her from the taxi.
She didn't sleep well this last week, either.
Oh, and she used magic, which for all I know, can be extremely exhausting, particularly in a land where it isn't supposed to exist.
Half of the pancakes on Henry's plate disappeared before he spoke again. "You know, if you guys are dating or something, you don't have to sneak around and hide it from me."
Killian's inhale of surprise sent a bite of pancakes into his airway, causing a coughing fit that he hoped wouldn't wake Emma. Henry slapped him on the back a few times until Killian's coughing ceased, and thankfully Emma didn't stir. "Why in blazes would you believe we're sneaking around?"
Henry shrugged, seemingly more focused on the pancakes instead of the discussion, but his body posture said otherwise. "Come on, Killian. I live here. Sometimes I wake up hungry in the middle of the night." He turned his head, finally looking at Killian. "You and my mom are super light sleepers. Do you know how hard it is to get a decent snack in the kitchen when you are both sleeping on the couch without waking one of you up?" Henry's brows arched. "The same couch."
"It's not what you think." Killian scratched the back of his neck again, trying to decide how to explain the situation.
"So you're not in love with my mom?" The boy's eyebrows rose higher, a cheeky smirk on his face.
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