Dax said nothing at first. His eyes moved again over Chris's T-shirt, jeans, bare arms, and the complete lack of concern on his face.
Then, very calmly, "You're comfortable."
It wasn't a question.
Chris's mouth curved. "I'm from Palatine."
Something like amusement flickered in Dax's expression. "Right."
Rowan stepped in with the air of a man presenting evidence in an ongoing case. "He refuses the coat."
Chris looked at him, scandalized. "Because I do not need the coat."
Dax's gaze went from Chris to Rowan to the coat, then back to Chris.
For a second, Chris thought he might actually side with him.
Then Dax exhaled, slow and resigned, like a man accepting that logic was irrelevant and he was about to do what he wanted anyway.
He reached up, caught the edge of the coat draped over his own shoulders, and shrugged it off in one smooth motion.
Chris blinked.
The thing looked even bigger in Dax's hands.
