Page 36 of Protected By the Elf Prince

Monkey had spent most of dinner watching us like he was witnessing the greatest sitcom of his life. Apparently, learning about Dashiel’s glamour was a wild ride, and he’d asked why he didn’t use it on him.

Dashiel had simply replied, “You are Landon’s son. Family. And you know of the existence of our kind. There is no point in hiding.”

After that, Dashiel had calmly begun helping wash dishes beside me like he belonged in my kitchen.

And somehow it hadn’t felt weird.

It should have. An elf standing beside me, drying plates while casually teasing my son over his caffeine addiction should have felt bizarre considering that a week ago, I didn’t even know supernatural beings existed.

Instead, it’d felt good.

“Do all humans drink this much coffee?” Dashiel asked while handing me another clean plate.

Monkey chuckled. “Usually. It’s like an emotional support item.”

Dashiel looked genuinely thoughtful. “That does not sound medically advisable.”

I snorted into a laugh before I could stop myself.

Dashiel’s gaze shifted toward me instantly, softening in a way that continued to do stupid things to my chest.

“I can literally see heart eyes happenin’ in real time,” Monkey said.

“Monkey,” I warned immediately.

“What? I’m just observin’.”

I scoffed. “You’re being annoying.”

“Yet, you love me.”

Smiling, I rolled my eyes. “I tolerate you.”

Monkey grinned triumphantly before turning toward Dashiel. “See? That means he loves me.”

“I had already concluded as much.” Dashiel smiled, and my gut fluttered.

Hell. This was bad.

I think I have a crush on an elf.

He was sweet, protective, and interested in wanting to know so many things about me, as if the knowledge genuinely mattered to him.

Earlier, he’d wanted to know what meals I grew up eating, what desserts I liked, and why I hated mushrooms. We talked about sports—not that he watched any—but he listened to me go on about the teams I supported and how the games were played.

Glancing at him again, I saw Dashiel eyeing Monkey’s coffee with distaste before he gave me his attention and said, “I would like to bring you some tea from my home someday. There are flavors I believe you would enjoy.”

See? He was too damn sweet, thinking about what I might like.

No one had done that for me in a long time.

Smiling, I nodded. “I’d like that.” I held my hand out for the dish towel, and when he passed it over, I dried my hands before placing it on the counter and turning to my son.

I cocked my head to the side when I saw his thoughtful expression

Monkey shook his head and drained the rest of his coffee before he stood, stretching dramatically. “Well,” he announced, “I should probably leave before Pops throws somethin’ at my head.”

“I will if you leave your mug on the table,” I replied dryly.