Free Perfekt Order (The Ære Saga Book 1) by S.T. Bende Page B

I’m sorting through a few things
while I figure out my next step.”
    “That doesn’t sound so weird.” I bumped his
arm with my elbow, ignoring the tingling that raced across my skin
at the touch. Tyr stiffened, so I pulled away. “Pretty
straightforward if you ask me.”
    “Yeah, well…” He trailed off. “Tell me
something about you.”
    “What do you want to know?”
    “I don’t know. Something not a lot of people
know.”
    I racked my brain, looking for a benign
tidbit I’d be willing to share. My life was pretty low-key; the
things people didn’t know about me tended to be embarrassing. “Oh,
here’s one. I am completely tone deaf.”
    “Tone deaf?”
    “Couldn’t carry a tune in a basket. Always
stuck in the back during elementary school pageants. Was asked to
sing quieter in church. And when it’s time for the Star Spangled
Banner, I lip sync out of respect for my country.”
    “That’s a good one,” Tyr chuckled.
    “Now you go.”
    “Huh. Uh… I can’t cook.”
    “At all?” I asked.
    “Correction. I can cook macaroni and cheese,
fry up bacon, and man a grill. But I torch anything I put in the
oven, set off the smoke alarm when I try to use the range, and I
caught a pan on fire trying to make Henrik a birthday cake. Last
time I ever baked.” Tyr’s mouth settled into a half-smile. His
shoulders had relaxed while we traded stories, bringing his
intense-factor down a notch. Thank God.
    I giggled as I pictured Tyr’s smoking cake
pan. “That’s pretty great.”
    “You again.” Tyr rested his elbows on his
knees and leaned forward.
    “Okay. I can cook. Can’t paint, can’t
draw, can’t sing, but my art is edible. My mom’s a foodie, and she
made us amazing four-course dinners every night. My brother, Jason,
and I got to help in the kitchen a lot. We were both making roasts,
soufflés, lasagnas, you name it by the time we started high school.
She wanted to make sure we could take care of ourselves once we
were on our own. Jason used to complain about it, but he loves
cooking now that he’s figured out it gets him more dates.” I
snickered.
    Tyr studied me. “You’re very close with your
family.”
    “Of course. They’re great.” I shrugged.
“What’s your family like?”
    “How about another fun fact?” Huh? Why
wouldn’t he want to talk about his family? “I know you like running
and skiing. And cooking. Tell me something that will surprise me
about you.”
    “Um… oh. I’m a pretty fierce fighter.”
    “You? The girl I just schooled on a fun run.
You can fight?” Tyr bumped his knee against mine. The familiar burn
radiated up my leg, but this time he didn’t pull back.
    “I can,” I squeaked. Then I cleared my
throat. “I most definitely can. When I ran my ski team’s dry-land
training, the girls got bored with the cardio and weights I put
them through. So I brought in a mixed martial arts coach to stir
things up. He taught us grappling and self-defense and all these
fun moves—totally got everyone motivated again. And we were
able to have some fun with the guys from our brother school when
they made fun of us for having slower courses than they did.” I
giggled at the memory of the boys’ captain laying facedown in the
snow. He’d called us snow bunnies, so I’d challenged him to a
wrestling match. I hadn’t hurt anything more than his ego, but he
and the rest of the boys had to set gates for both courses
for the rest of the season… and they didn’t call us names
again.
    “Mmm.” Tyr leaned over, so now both his knee and his shoulder were touching me. My entire side was on
fire. He tilted his face toward mine, and when he spoke his voice
came out in a low murmur. “Care to show me sometime?”
    “I’d… uh… I…” Oh, hot bejeebus. Tyr’s voice
was every bit as hypnotic as his eyes. I was being sucked into a
vortex… a beautiful, blond vortex of Swedish awesomeness, that was
equal parts intimidating warrior and overprotective