Dashing devil 5 bold beg.., p.25
Dashing Devil 5: Bold Beginnings, page 25
A round of joyous laughter went through the group at the simple joke and Boyd chuckled along with them.
As the laughter subsided, Daisy—with her arms crossed and a defiant glint in her eyes—retorted, "As if I'd be swayed so easily. Even if Boyd tried his charms on me, I'd still be the one saying no. It's not like I'm just waiting around for him to take interest in me or anything..."
“Please,” Tinker rolled her hazel eyes, “you wouldn’t last ten minutes if Boyd wanted you and decided to act on it.”
Another round of laughter went through the group, although this time Daisy narrowed her eyes at Tinker before glaring at Boyd until it died down enough for her to firmly state, “Even if you were to try to charm me, I’d still say no.”
With that, the plates, glasses, cutlery, and serving trays her feast had arrived on floated into the air over the table as she fluttered up into the air. Daisy evidently planned to have the last word, but Boyd’s new trainee wasn’t having that.
“You only say that because you haven’t felt his aura!” Laura laughed as Daisy turned to retreat. “If his personality shifted, as Tinker said, and he decided to use that? I promise you we’d all be puddles well within the ten minute mark.”
“Oh lord,” Kayla sighed, placing the back of her hand against her forehead in a classic ‘woe is me’ pose. “And here I was thinking I might make it a full fifteen minutes if I put my heart into resisting.”
This triggered more laughter and for Daisy to decide she wasn’t going to get the last word—no matter how hard she tried considering her competition. She retreated.
“Oh, I must say I enjoy it here,” Kayla said as the final round of laughter died down. “There’s never a dull moment. Now, I’ll be off to my studio if anyone needs me…” She gave Boyd a wink. “Or goes through a personality shift. Good night!” She wiggled her fingers in a wave as she turned to follow the fleeing Fairy.
“Good night,” Boyd said, offering a nod as his lovers echoed their own wishes for a restful evening.
Turning to Laura, he caught her gaze. “You get a pass on the reading tonight because you’re helping with the conversation. But don't get used to it. Training room, six o'clock sharp.”
“Yes, sir!” Laura's salute, clearly borrowed from some cinematic depiction, was met with Boyd's raised eyebrow.
“Heroes don’t salute,” he pointed out.
“Oh…” Laura blinked, dropping the salute with a chagrined smirk. “They don’t, do they. Why is that? I see the Non-Powered-Officers do it all the time.”
“Too many Powers are activated by hand movements,” Boyd replied, then shrugged.
Silvie floated over to gently pull Hope away from him. She had been standing with her hip pressed against his throughout the conversation, hesitant to move further away than that.
“Our non-Powered superiors often prefer we remain as still as possible in their presence,” he continued. “So, instead of saluting, we stand at attention and address them with respect.”
“Noted. See? I’m learning from you already.” Laura grinned. “You're going to be a great trainer.”
“Training terrorist, you mean,” Silvie mumbled before floating up to give Boyd a peck on the lips. She then pulled him into a hug, pressing her chest to his. This put her lips next to his ear, and she whispered, “Remember, Darling, there are good kinds of upset, alright? Kinds that need to happen first before healing can happen. Be strong.”
Boyd nodded, then engaged in brief farewells with each of his loves that would be going to another room. They wandered off towards the hall with the single suites where each of his loves, Daisy, and Kayla maintained a personal space while chatting happily. Laura’s rooms were attached to her clinic.
He smiled down at Tinker, who returned it with a shy smile of her own. While Boyd’s recent height adjustment had not resulted in a change in his mass, his little genius’s growth spurt had. She’d shot up a full seven inches, growing into a shared kiss while riding him as he bent low to find her lips. When it happened, all of her proportions grew to match—resulting in her bust still appearing rather large on her still petite frame.
She was wearing a new, rather tight, pink romper that bared the entirety of her legs. This one had a zipper which was artfully left partially down to display a swath of pert cleavage. It even had some nice braided detailing along the seam of the zipper for some extra style. She’d paired it with socks that rose to above her knees and had accessorized with the hot pink bracelets that had seen a few iterative improvements but were otherwise now a constant feature of his smallest love’s daily wardrobe.
While she’d initially been rather upset about having to replace her entire wardrobe after her growth spurt, his other loves had quickly convinced her that it was an opportunity to fully commit to her recent style change.
Tink’s cheeks flushed as warmth filled their Bond in response to his appraisal. He sensed there was something about the way his smile changed slightly when he regarded her like that which made her feel special. Boyd wasn’t sure what it was, but he hoped he would never stop doing it.
“Hello, my love,” Boyd rumbled after allowing himself to stare into her big hazel eyes for a moment as they just smiled like fools at each other.
Tinker gave a start and her faint blush deepened two shades redder. “S-sorry, g-got lost in your eyes for a minute there. Um, w-what were we doing?” she blurted out rapidly.
“I was just about to ask if you had anything in mind for how to spend some time together.” Boyd smiled warmly at his often-flustered little genius. He sensed that she wanted his company and attention, but not necessarily how she wanted to spend their one-on-one time together.
“Oh!” She nodded, giving him a chagrined smile.
Her hands came up to play with one of her braids, twisting and stroking it as she looked up at him through her long lashes. “Right… um… I was thinking we could maybe make some treats for when the others are done with their talk?” Her rising tone made it a question, and she quickly added, “It sounded like it will get pretty emotional, and you’re going to be sensing all that, so I thought maybe doing something to cheer them up might help you get through it… even if it will be an indirect solution to cheer them up. Plus, the others can eat the freshly made treats when they are done. Win-win.”
“That’s a wonderful idea,” Boyd held his smile as he nodded.
He might have worried about spending their impromptu one-on-one time on a task his other loves would benefit from, but their Bond assuaged such concerns. Tinker genuinely enjoyed making things for those she cared about. Normally, of course, this took the form of customized gadgets. Apparently, baking treats qualified too.
“Great! Let’s use the little kitchen in your mini-suite,” Tink cheered as she turned and started for his private rooms.
She had some pep in her socked steps that matched the excitement he sensed within her. Yet, somewhere deep down inside her, he sensed a little nugget of trepidation. He decided not to tug at it or look too closely just yet, though he would keep an eye on it.
Boyd caught up and took measured strides to walk beside her as she continued, “I was thinking you could make brownies because Silvie and Hope both melt over them… Hope almost literally. Then I was hoping you could help me make Snickerdoodles? Raev will like anything, but Mindy said Snickerdoodles were her favorite when I had the idea earlier but wasn’t sure what to make.”
“Sounds like a plan.” Boyd smiled as he unfurled a wing and draped it around her as they walked.
“Okay, good.” Tink leaned back into his wing, enjoying the feel of the suede-like lining. “I looked up some recipes earlier that seemed easy enough, but I don’t have much experience with baking so I wasn’t sure which one to use. I couldn’t figure out why some called for butter, others for shortening, and then there were some recipes that called for both. Then each of them called for different amounts of sugar, or eggs, while others…”
Boyd sort of faded into a trance as Tinker talked about the many differences she had encountered when she’d started to look up cookie recipes as they walked. It wasn’t that the conversation bored him, but the way her shoulders, hips, and perky little rear swayed against his enfolding wing was mesmerizing.
The inner lining was about as sensitive as the palm of a normal person’s hand, after all.
“So, what do you think?”
Tinker’s question brought Boyd up short as they approached the door to the small suite tucked into his private rooms. She looked up at him with big hazel eyes that clearly expected some sort of revelation to come out of the big demon.
Oops.
“Um…” he began. He could have given a vague answer based on what he knew about baking cookies, but decided that honesty was always the best policy. “So,” he began, “the thing is…”
He was interrupted by a cute little giggle. “Hee hee, you got distracted by my bum.” Tinker gave said work of art a little extra shake against his wing with her next step.
“You’re right, I did,” Boyd admitted. He gave her an unabashed grin as the door slid open for them. While they made their way to the kitchen, he added, “To be fair, it is a very nice bum. But I’m focused now. What was your question again?”
His little inventor’s cheeks took on a pleased rosy hue as she responded, “how do you think I should pick the best recipe? I didn’t have time to do a deep dive or even figure out what metrics to use in determining what makes the best Snickerdoodle.”
“That’s for the best.” Boyd grinned as they came to a stop and faced each other in the kitchen. Boyd’s wing remained firmly in place, but he resisted the urge to wrap the other one around her, too.
“You would have struggled on the metrics front because what is best varies from person to person,” he explained. “We are biological beings, each having tastebuds that are as different from another’s as our fingerprints.”
“Right…” Tink sighed. "Freaking biology and its randomization... people are more unpredictable than a chaotic pendulum in a room full of magnets."
Boyd didn’t know precisely what a chaotic pendulum was, but he understood enough to chuckle at her joke.
“How do you pick recipes?”
He pursed his lips while trying to think of how to describe it best. “You can make educated guesses if you know the people you are cooking for.” Boyd shrugged a shoulder. “In this case, I would recommend a recipe that uses half butter and half shortening. Mindy likes a buttery flavor to her cookies, but not if it’s overpowering—and the shortening is probably meant to do something for the texture. Assuming people like them, then it would become about trying different things to zero in on personal tastes…” He grinned at her. “Or just sticking with what worked the next time you made them.”
“Okay…” Tinker looked thoughtful for a moment before she gave him a wry grin. “I’m overthinking this, aren’t I? That’s pretty much exactly what I do when making gadgets.”
“You are.” Boyd smiled down at her. “Though baking is a little different, this should come fairly easy for you. Ultimately, you are making something for someone you care about.”
“Well, just make sure I don’t mess anything up, okay?” Her smile turned sheepish. “I don’t want to give anyone food poisoning or anything.”
“I’ll keep my eye on you in the kitchen.” Boyd chuckled. “Just feel free to ask any questions you may have. Baking isn’t a specialty, but I’ll answer any that I can.” With that, he regretfully retracted his wing from around her as she walked over and grabbed a tablet from the table of the eat-in kitchen.
Tinker ran through three different recipes while he gathered the ingredients needed for the brownies he’d made since he was a child. It wasn’t anything special, the only little flair being the addition of milk chocolate chips for sweetness and the texture of the little gooey pockets.
“The second recipe,” Boyd called out over his shoulder, picking the one that called for a quarter teaspoon of salt when she finished. “Too many people overlook the importance of a little salt in sweet things.
He gathered everything Tinker would need along with his own ingredients and set them out on an open section of the counter. Together they set about making some baked treats for his other loves. Tinker focused in on what she was doing, following her recipe precisely, so there was a lull in the conversation. It was a companionable silence broken only by the tinkling of spoons in mixing bowls.
The only thing that made Boyd’s brownies different from anyone else’s were the mistakes he’d made the first few times he prepared them. When he finally figured out what he was doing wrong and tried to correct the issue, both Silvie and Hope had pouted that they weren’t the same.
The key to his loves hearts lay in overmixing the batter a bit and pulling them from the oven a little too soon. They came out more like dense, fudgy cake then brownies were supposed to. But Silvie and Hope loved them, so that had been his recipe since... well, since forever. His brownies went in to bake fairly quickly, the result of practiced ease.
Tinker, however, was taking her time to precisely measure and carefully follow each step of the recipe’s directions. It worked out well, though, because brownies took longer to bake than cookies. Throughout the process, Boyd felt alarming things over his other Bonds.
Raev was just a little uncomfortable, likely the result of a tense situation while Mindy felt self-recriminatory, blaming herself for the discomfort of the others. Silvie was a twisting heap of emotion, all over the place and hard to track. Fortunately, it didn’t seem like anything that signified a crisis.
Hope, however, was the one that called out to him. His angel felt trapped, ganged up on, and like she would very much like to be rescued. Boyd had to remind himself that this was a conversation that needed to happen. Sometimes there had to be a little pain before healing could begin. He trusted his loves to handle it.
Instead of worrying about Hope, he focused on his Bond with Tinker. He pulled her Bond wide open and let her calm sense of purpose wash over him. His little inventor knew that people she cared for were going through something emotionally trying and was making treats to soothe them when it was done. He used that sense, that he was doing something for them, to mute the troubling emotions.
Boyd focused on that little nugget of trepidation he sensed within Tinker’s emotional state as an anchor to hold himself in her otherwise good mood. Focusing on her like he was, the big demon noted a spike in her mood that seemed to be directly related to that worrisome nugget as soon as his little inventor’s cookies went in the oven.
“Okay… as long as they don’t burn, they should be pretty good. That wasn’t so bad.” Tinker nodded at her cookies through the glass front of the oven as she surveyed her treats, almost as if she was making sure one didn’t leap off the cookie sheet or something.
After a moment, she added quietly enough that he was sure he wasn’t supposed to hear, “Now for the hard part.”
Chapter 27
Boyd filled two glasses with water from the unit in the fridge and brought them over to the table. It sounded and felt like his little inventor had something she wanted to get off her chest. When he brought the glasses over to the table, he pulled out a chair for each of them. He felt her struggling to get started, teetering between bringing up whatever it was or letting it lie.
“What’s on your mind, Tink?” Boyd rumbled carefully as he took his seat and motioned for her to take hers. He sensed the relief him bringing up whatever she needed to talk about brought her and was once again thankful for his Power.
“Um…” she hopped up into her seat, something that came much easier to her now.
Boyd had chosen seats that didn’t have them facing each other to make her more comfortable, but she turned in hers to give him a tight-lipped, concerned pout before she continued. “Well, it’s about the Gala and… well, about my family. Chances are plenty of Bells will be in attendance, and if not…” she sighed “the Blonde Buffoon will bring it up, for sure.”
“Your parents?” Boyd understood that those were typically the most important people to you in a family.
“Oh, no…” Tinker shook her head. “They aren’t nearly important enough to warrant one of the family tickets to something like this. They are way down a distant branch, which is part of the problem. My parents are pretty low status, so I don’t have any… clout would be the word for it, but… but I hate that word.”
The petite woman pressed the palms of her hands to her eyes and sighed. “Because I have no status, anyone who wants to take a shot at me can do so without fearing backlash from anyone important in the family.”
Boyd recategorized Tinker’s family into a political organization in his mind. He figured it would help him understand the situation better as soon as terms like ‘way down a distant branch’ and ‘clout’ started being used to describe familial dealings.
“But why would anyone want to take a shot at you?” he asked.
It seemed like the next most pertinent thing. So far, she had approached this as wanting to share information he needed to know so he figured it was important for him to learn and to understand. “Or, more directly, why doesn’t having a Power similar to the Aiden Bell give you all the status you could ever need?”
“It is just the opposite.” Tinker shook her head. “It’s that whole ‘no Powered in the company’ thing.”
Boyd quickly recategorized Tinker’s family to a business organization embroiled in complex politics.
“When I was really young and it just seemed like I was a particularly bright child, apparently my parent’s branch did get some perks because of my potential… but I don’t remember any of that. My dad sure does, though.”
Tinker’s shoulders slumped. “I don’t think he ever forgave me for being Powered. Apparently, I got tested when I was five because I was doing things that no five-year-old should be able to do, no matter how bright they are. I sort of remember that…” She shuddered. “I used to have nightmares about it.”
