“A third of that, Marco. I mean it. Damn it.” Breen only sighed when he served her pasta. “He always gives me too much.”
“You’re seriously buffed up, girl. Those muscles need some carbs. You helped her get them.”
“Ah…”
“With training. I was going to be pretty pissed at you, chief dude or not, for knocking my girl down, bruising her up.”
“Marco, please.” Breen felt the redhead’s curse of a flush creeping into her cheeks. “Just eat.”
“I’m gonna. But I figured out you were tough on her because you needed her to fight back. To want to. Her mom—and I’m not going to dis her. When I came out, my family didn’t support me. My sister did, but my parents, my brother, different story. But Ms. Wilcox did, so I won’t slap at her too hard.”
“Where did you come out from?”
Marco laughed. “The closet, man. I’m gay.”
“Aye, Breen said that means you prefer men for sex and such. We don’t have closets for that in Talamh.”
While Marco just grinned, Keegan wound spaghetti around his fork, ate. “Well now, this is brilliant. Better even than I remember eating in Italy.”
“You’ve been to Italy?” Marco pointed at him. “I’m going to ask you all about that, but before I do, I’m going to finish my thoughts here.”
“Finish whatever you like. I’m eating this.”
“I want to say, it’s hard to learn to fight back, to want to fight back, when most of your life, basically all of it, you’ve been told not to. More, told you’d never win anyway because you’d never be good enough.”
Keegan nodded as he continued to eat. “Breen’s mother was wrong. Whatever her reasons, it doesn’t make her less wrong. You are what you are.” He looked at Breen then, straight on with those amber-flecked green eyes. “And you know what you know now. It doesn’t mean I won’t still knock you down or put bruises on you on the training field.”
“Because you want her to live.”
“I do, aye, I want her to live.”
“That’s why I decided not to be pissed at you. Plus, you saved her life. Twice.”
“It wasn’t her life so much in danger.”
“Try the dipping sauce. It’s my own blend. You swooped out of the sky on your dragon when some evil faerie dude had her. You—swipe!—cut off his head.”
“It’s good, your blend here.”
“And when the bitch witch’s snakes bit her, you got her through it.”
“She did much of that herself.”
“Not the way she tells it, but I’m going with you on it. Either way, and any way, she’s the world to me, so there’s nothing you can do—except hurt her—that’s going to piss me off very much. I guess I have to stay off the training field.”
“You choose your friends well, Breen Siobhan.”
“I’ll take credit for that. Marco, I don’t want you to have to think about any more of this tonight. You’ve had a day.”
“I’m almost done. I’m going to need you, or somebody, to train me. Other than a few lucky punches, I’m crap at fighting.”
“He says he’s going to stay,” Breen began when Keegan looked at her.
“I don’t just say it, I mean it. The world to me,” Marco repeated. “As long as she’s here, I’m here.”
“Well then, brother, we’ll train you up right enough, though you may not thank me for it. You should learn to fight—to defend yourself and others. But I’ll say there are more ways to help than with a sword or a fist.”
“Like what? I can’t poof up a handful of fire like some of us here can.”
“I’m about to ask for a second portion of like what. Not so much as the first, or even Cróga won’t be able to carry me home.”
“Cooking?”
“Warriors need to eat, and well. I’ll see you’re trained. Morena’d be a good one to start him with,” he said to Breen. “She’s steady and firm, but has more patience than I do.”
“Who doesn’t?”
“Haven’t found one yet,” Keegan said easily. “You have a gift for cooking, that’s more than clear, so it shouldn’t be wasted. And I’ll say, as one who knows, you throw a solid lucky punch, so I’m thinking—as with Breen—there’s more to you than you may know.”