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“Jesus,” he mutters. “Can we just go outside and eat? I’m suddenly very warm in here.”

“Whatever you want.”

Caspian bites his lip, then shakes his head and says, “Outside.”

“Sure.” I dish myself one slice of the meal he calls French toast, leaving off the sugar, then follow him outside the back door to where there’s an old rusty table and two chairs. He sits and I eye the chair warily, not sure it will hold my weight. In the end I take a chance, the chair sinking into the ground beneath me.

Caspian eats his food, occasionally breaking off pieces, which he drops to the floor for Applesauce.

I take a bite, trying not to grimace.

“You don’t like it?” he asks, brushing the back of his hand over his mouth.

“Hmm,” I say, taking another bite. “It’s good.”

It’s not. It’s soggy and well, it’s not meat.

Caspian laughs. “Your face says otherwise.”

“Sorry.”

“It’s okay. I’m not offended. If you said you didn’t like my scones, then I’d be offended.” He smiles and shoves more food in his mouth.

Fuck, he’s so beautiful.

With my elbow on the tabletop, I lean forward.

“I guess we’ll have to do this again, so I can try one.”

“I’d like that. How long do you plan to be here?” he asks, reaching for his water.

Forever.

I shrug. “As long as it takes.”

He mulls that over before he says, “I need to ask you a favour.”

“Okay.”

“When you’re finished down on the beach, can you not tell anyone about the sea lions?”

I raise an eyebrow, and he keeps talking, his hands wringing together on the tabletop. “I know it’s your job. But Pops wanted them protected. And I think…” Caspian looks out at the sea and then at me again. “I don’t know why, but I think they’re special, and people don’t have the best track record when it comes to protecting things they don’t know or understand.”

I agree with him completely, on all his points.

“Of course. How about I tell only you what I find and then you decide what to do with that information?”

“Okay.” Caspian stands and I follow, helping him carry our plates back inside.

“I have to get back to the barn now,” he says. He leans back, both hands on the counter behind him. The air around us hums and Caspian takes a breath when I step nearer to him.

“Do you need help in the barn?”

He shakes his head. “No. I’m good. Thank you for…”

I laugh. “For not cooking and not eating your food?”

“Yeah, for that. I look forward to not eating with you again.”