Page 62 of Love the Way You Lion
“You do. It’s hard to be an interesting person without them. Everyone has what the outside world sees and a secret life inside that they only share with the chosen few, you know? Further into the layers, the fewer people it gets shared with.”
Looking pleased, she ducks her head, and I ruffle her hair. Sometimes, the right words find you. “Speaking of ogres, I’m going to figure out what the cat’s doing now because the arm thing is for the birds.” I take a peek into my woman’s head, trying to see if I’m hitting a soft core or okay to proceed. “Yeah, we’re good. They have clothes on and everything.”
“Huh?”
“I peeped to see if the cat was reachable for a patch up. Have to be careful because last time I got porn.”
“Oh, damn. Did you call her? Rafe, that’s not right. I can wait until tomorrow or next week or whatever.” She frowns; looking like she feels stupid and selfish, and I shake my head.
“Uh-uh. Not next week, tonight. Get it through your skull, General Pouty. You’re getting fixed tonight.” She gives me a peeved look, and I sense her feeling like I’ve accused her of being judgmental and mean. “You’re only bossy when you’re covering for something you see as a weakness. Not all the time.”
Her mental string of curse words at my astute breakdown of her psyche is amusing, but she glares at me.
“I heard that. She’ll be here in a blink. Literally, I suppose, since she’s into that poofing thing.”
“Great. This issounnecessary.”
“Don’t worry. I clarified it wasn’t an emergency. If you’re thinking it can wait, then do me a favor and raise that arm above your head and wave it please?”
She’s so damned stubborn that for a moment, I think she’s going to, just to spite me. But she changes her mind when I sit on the bed and her arm bounces, causing her to gasp.
“I thought so. No need to cripple us both to prove my point, pet.”
“Ugh. Not good. Sorry. I know that hurt you. You’re right—this stereo thing is trippy.”
“It proves what I was saying. Besides, it’s physical pain. I can deal with that very well. I’m okay.”
Her head tilts and I see by her expression that the cat has told her mate about the injury. She makes faces as if they’re arguing mentally and I wonder, not for the first time, what it must look like to outsiders when mates like us have these mental arguments.
Do we look like schizophrenics? Hell, are all the schizophrenics in the other place just people from another ribbon talking to mates far, far away?
I went to the bottom of the ocean on that one, so I’m going to leave it alone. This is why my mind shouldn’t be unsupervised like I said.
“See? You tell people you’re a little dented and you get all poked.”
“You are more than dented and you know it.” To be safe, I send Deli a reminder to calm down her king before they get here or nothing will get done.”
The Cat Repairs A Broken Wing
DELILAH
We apparate into the room together and I sigh in relief when it doesn’t appear as though Talia’s badly injured. I don’t know if the bird could take another life-threatening injury in a seven-day period. Talia’s sitting on the bed, propped against the pillows, with my mate at her side. He’s stroking her hair, and she’s trying to look annoyed versus pampered. It makes me want to giggle.
Well, I guess she’s not dying again, which is a relief.
“Right. What’s the what, woman of mine?” Taurus barges across the room, glaring at Rafe, and I roll my eyes. “You two playing too rough at naughty naked games, mate?”
Rafe snorts and shakes his head. “As much as it’d be nice to claim victory on this one, I wasn’t even there when it happened. Not a drop of nakedness about.” Sighing, he looks forlorn that somehow he hasn’t helped her mangle herself in an epic feat of sexual adventure.
Men are the same no matter how enlightened they seem—always thinking with the little head rather than the big one.
“Sod off. If you must know, I was hitting like a girl at the gym.” Talia glares at them both, but Taurus grins a little. Unfortunately, the rest of us are not privy to this part of the story.
My primary is clearly about to ask about it when he blinks, then narrows his eyes at me. Rafe bursts out laughing as he looks me over. “What in the hell are you wearing, kitty cat?”
The other woman’s gaze swings to me as if she’s seeing me for the first time and I realize that, in my infinite wisdom, I did not think of changing out of the filmy peignoir that I put on after the bath. She turns, hissing at my primary, “I thought you said there was nothing going on!”
Embarrassing. Truly mortifying. Bloody hell.
