“Reading historical romance?” I ask him. Axel pops open the bag of pretzels and brings one to my mouth. “It’s my brother’s fault. Viggo’s filled my library with surly dukes and feisty bluestockings.” I smile as he sets a pretzel on my tongue. “You were going to read that while you waited for me?” He nods. “This one’s pretty good.” I nestle back against his shoulder and chew my pretzel. “You could read me some. If you feel like it.” “So long as you promise never to tell Viggo that I’m actually enjoying them.” “I promise. But why?” “Because if he finds out, he’ll be insufferably smug.”
