“. . . . I spilled stuff all over the place. I got good at cleaning up and coffee grounds go everywhere. Let me help.”

“No, it’s all right, I can . . .” Charlie glanced toward him as she spoke and caught the quick flicker of gold in his eyes. “What?”

“It was only an offer to help you clean up,” he muttered. “Not to roll around naked with you until you smell like me instead of Allie and Graham.”

She lifted her arm to her nose. “I don’t . . .”

“Dragon.”

“Right.” Leaning against the counter, weight on one hip, Charlie yawned and ran both hands through the tangled mass of her hair. “Does it bother you?”

“A little.”

“I’m not . . .”

“Did I ask you to? It’s just . . .” There was suddenly a lot more scale and a lot less skin. “. . . I’m fighting instincts when you smell like them.”

“I didn’t know.” And Charlie’d thought the whole misaligned attraction between them couldn’t get any worse. Jack fighting instincts that might have even a remote chance of being dangerous to her babies would put Allie in full protection mode. The whole city would go into lockdown. “I’ll go shower.”

“Coffee first,” he snorted, tossing his twisted spoon into the empty bowl, mostly skin again. “It’s under control, and I worry about you drowning when you’re less than caffeinated.”

“Cute.”

“Thanks.”

Coffee sounded like a terrific idea.

“Does it affect the flavor?” she asked as a tiny whirlwind lifted the pile of spilled grounds back into the canister.

“Graham says it doesn’t.” The corners of his mouth twitched as though he wanted to smile, but wasn’t sure he should. “Allie says it makes it harder to charm.”

“That’s not a bad thing.”

“Yeah. That’s what Graham says.” The smile broke free and Charlie had to stop herself from taking a step back. Or forward. He didn’t look seventeen when he smiled; there was too much dragon in the teeth and a hint of danger in the curve.

These were not feelings she could deal with before coffee, and she barely resisted dropping the fourth spoonful into her mouth after the first three went into the French press.

“Charlie?”

And now he sounded . . . young. Which he was.

“Yeah, Jack.”

“You need to take me back four years so I can be trained.”

Charlie spilled the coffee again. “What part of the family doesn’t deal with the Fey did you miss?”

“This isn’t dealing with the Fey, this is me keeping you and probably Katie alive.”

The coffee was taking too damned long. “What?”

“Before the ritual . . .”

“The one the aunties want you and me to join.” That ritual.

“Yeah, before that happens, you have to take me back in time. We’ll go out to the badlands where there’s room to maneuver and aim for the day my mother came through. I bet that made a mark.”