chapter twelve

                                    

                                          
The royal siblings went back home without a hitch. Which meant the team got a few days clear of missions as a reward. Which also meant I had more free time. 
To work in my office.
Not for any reason in particular, just because there was always something to be done. And that was my only motive to spend two days cooped up behind a computer and barely show my face around the communal areas. 
Of course.
Luckily – although so weirdly – energy bars kept popping up atop my desk. Salted caramel and dark chocolate. Specific enough that I would've remembered if someone had requested them on the weekly shop and yet nothing came to mind. 
I figured it was probably Arthur buttering me for some reason or another and there wasn't much point in refusing them, especially since the damned things were pretty good and let me stay in the office for even longer stretches of time.
When Esme and Seven got back from their trip to England, I was roped into wedding planning. Forced is more accurate, really. But I'd do it for Esme.
The both of us were seated at the kitchen table, a few magazines scattered and my iPad between the elbows I'd firmed on the table as I listened to her grand plans for a Christmas Wedding.
Corny as anything, but she wouldn't be dissuaded. Believe me, I tried.
"I just think we need more time." I explained again. "If we push it back to- Let's say May, for example- I could probably get you the Plaza."
Esme hummed in thought. "I do like the Plaza. It's so pretty..." She sighed, then quickly shook her head. "No, I don't want to wait that long. Sev loves Christmas."
"I know, but what if-" What would've been a rational argument against the most cliché of weddings died in my tongue when James walked into the kitchen.
Ruffling his dark hair with a yawn, the movement pulling his shirt up his torso a bit.
Dammit, he was up early.
"Good morning." His voice was groggy, reaching me from behind as he went to the counter to get a coffee.
"Good morning, Blake." Esme graced him with a smile.
I simply said. "Morning." Picking one of the magazines, I straightened my back. "So, what dress are we looking for here, because-"
"Hold up." James barked. "Morning?" I flipped through my magazine, so very interested in all those big puffy dresses. "Did you just say morning to me?"
"That's the common greeting around these parts."
His hand landed right on the Vera Wang cocktail dress designed for outdoor receptions. Knuckles bruised lilac on his pale skin.
He dipped his head so close to me, I could smell his breath. Coffee and mint mixed together. "Are you sick?"
If I said yes, would he back the fuck up and leave me alone? Unlikely.
"I was trying to be polite." I said shortly. He scoffed. I gestured to the cluttered table. "I'm also busy. Now, if you don't mind." 
I grabbed my magazine with both hands to pull it from under his. "Esme, dress?"
My attention went fully to her. Her thin lips rolled to her mouth to ward off a smile. She reached for her tea mug to hide it when that failed.
The annoying presence at my right disappeared, allowing me to get my coffee too and ignore the noise behind me.
Brushing her hair off her forehead, Esme nudged her head. "Long sleeves are probably a good idea, depending on the location we end up getting."
The chair at the head of the table screeched. I spoke over it. "An outdoor wedding in December would be impractical, but we can rent heaters if you really-"