Page 47 of Misbehaving With Minotaurs
CATHERINE
I’m a sopping mess by the time the train stops in downtown Pine Gulch. Manorin’s a hard, tense presence at my back. I’ve been quietly teasing him with pheromones for the entire ride, and as excited as he is to show me Pine Gulch, I think he’s most excited to get to a bed.
As he should be.
Friends with benefits is turning out to be a lot of fun. While Annabelle has my heart, there are needs she isn’t meant to fulfill. Manorin does that and more. I’m already dreading this trip being over because I’m having such a good time.
Before we disembark, he finds the pixie attendant to give her a tip and a quick thanks for being such an excellent hostess. Or maybe for looking the other way while he gave me a half-dozen soul-shattering orgasms.
Gods. It might have either been my best or worst idea to come here with him. He was always up for anything as a younger male, and that doesn’t seem to have changed with age.
But all that worry evaporates when we step off the train onto a cobblestone street, a long row of two-story buildings in front of us. The train takes off with a steamy hiss.
“That’s downtown’s only BnB.” Manorin points at a sign that readsThe Welcome Inn.“We’ll be there for the weekend, my brother got the family place when our folks died and I don’t wanna subject you to him. Welcome’s got a cute little saloon-style bar inside.”
He jerks his head to the building next to that. “The Whiskey Business is your best spot for a really good drink, and the food’s not half bad. There are a half dozen other good restaurants in downtown, and then, of course, the wraith hotel situated on the opposite side of the haven is its own property with a series of restaurants and shops. Great place to go for a little upscale shopping.” He tucks a stray lock of hair away from my eyes. “I’d love to take you lingerie shopping there sometime, maybe on this trip if we’ve got time. Would you like that?”
It’s hard not to shout yes and leap into his arms. Everything about Manorin is so…romantic. Thoughtful, well-planned, considerate. I didn’t even have that with Wesley. Maybe a little when we first dated. But we were never partners the way I thought we were. I always gave more than I received, in every possible way.
But Manorin’s not like that, and if I’m honest with myself, I’m enjoying it.
“I’d love to,” I manage, reaching up to stroke his forearm.
He bends down, bringing his snout to me. “Good, I wanna find out how many businesses I can fuck you in before I get a slap on the wrist from Sheriff Rygold for public indecency.”
“That’ll be kinda difficult to do, on account of him currently stone sleeping away his troubles, so he’ll be a statue for a few days at least.”
I snap my eyes up to see who justheard that.
A handsome, tall dark elf with white hair in a high bun stands there wearing a tan uniform with a name badge readingF. Zayle, Fish & Wildlife.He stands with lazy ease, thumbs tucked into a black leather belt secured by a giant silver belt buckle.Silver tattoos in the shape of various animals curve around both muscular forearms.
“Err, hello.” I’m certain I’m blushing, but thankfully Manorin comes to my rescue, stepping forward to reach for the elf’s hand, which he shakes vigorously.
“Furyon, good to see you, friend. What’s this about Rygold?”
Furyon smiles lazily, black lips splitting to reveal sharp, white teeth. His pale blue eyes move from Manorin to me and back again. “Sicka dealing with you-know-who. Told me to pass along a message though.” He winks at me, blue eyes crinkling at the corners. “Clean up your nephew’s bullshit, or he’ll do it when he wakes, and you ain’t gonna like what happens.” He shrugs and glances off into the distance. “I’m guessing he might feel ready to drop Alarion into the deepest part of the Gulch on account of the nonstop tomfoolery. Lotta places around here to hide a body.”
Manorin laughs, honest to gods, as I stand horrified by the exchange.
The sheriff here wouldkillManorin’s nephew?
“Noted,” Manorin finally says when laughter subsides to a chuckle. “Honestly, it might do that dumbass some good to get dangled over the Gulch for a bit. I might just ignore him this weekend and let Rygold take it from there.”
Furyon shakes his head, rolling a toothpick between his teeth. “I mightn’t do that if I was you, old friend. Bishop’s in a right foul mood these days. Sidewinders got his tail all in a knot.”
Manorin’s smile falls. “I thought that mostly went away when Rezeth died?”
“Not hardly.” Furyon’s easy smile falls. “They got a new ophiotaurii in charge, and he’s really somethin’. Most monsters don’t even venture to the far west now. They’ve attempted to raid Mabel a time or two, if you can believe it.”
Manorin chuffs. “And what’s Bishop doing about this if he’s stone sleeping for days at a time?”
“Honestly, Manorin, I think he’s gearing up to bring a heap o’ trouble to their doorstep. That old injury bothers him from time to time, but it’s better if he gets in a couple solid days’ rest. I suspect we’re about to see shit go down next week. After the barn dance, of course, because what self-respecting monsters would fuck with that?” He scoffs, as if it’s unimaginable for someone to interfere.
Furyon smiles at me. “And you must be Catherine. Manorin mentioned you’d be joining him. I’ve heard tell of the Annabelle Inn’s beautiful owner a time or two over the years.” He winks at Manorin. “This big lug finally got you back here, huh?”
I’m missing something, but I just smile and nod. “That’s right.”
Furyon sighs. “Well, have fun. I’ll see y’all at the dance later?”
