Swiftcurrent Creek I got my fists on the kitchen table

He smirked at her words—and he knew she would prove herself soon enough. Eislyn would be a breath of fresh air here, he believed. And at her nudge, he leaned gently toward her without realizing, a brush of shoulders offering a certain solstice to the man.

A light frown barely whispered over his features before he pulled it back—unwilling to worry her too much. “Tired,” he admitted, his eyes sweeping down to study her. “How about you?”