Page 76 of Forget Me Not
Syve listened intently as Bastien walked her through the process: break up the dark chocolate while heating the milk, sugar, salt and cornstarch in a small pan. He added the chocolate chunks to the gently boiling mixture, stirring until it all melted.
After pouring the cocoa into four mugs, he sprinkled a pinch of cayenne pepper over three of them, whispering to Syve that Del couldn’t stand the spice.
Ten minutes later, Soriah was settled into her bed, her favorite book in one hand and cocoa in the other, the vase safely settled onto her dresser.
Del had already fallen asleep when they stopped by her room, so Syve set her cocoa on her nightstand, pulled theblankets up a little tighter around the girl’s chin, and pressed a quick kiss to her hair. Bastien’s heart swelled every time he saw Syve dote on his family like that.
Back in his room, he settled onto the bed, handing her mug over before curling around his own. She snuggled in beside him, both leaning on the headboard, silently sipping from their steaming mugs.
“Stay tonight,” he said quietly. “Just to sleep. Stay with me.”
“I already promised Mama I would.” She chuffed at his surprised look. “I do have to get some work done in the morning…Hal isn’t expecting you back until next week. Do—would you want to come to the shop? The sofa is all yours, if you want.”
“Only if there’s coffee involved,” he teased with a wink.
“Deal,” she whispered, placing a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth.
It was not long before Syve’s empty cup rolled from her sleeping hand. Bas carefully placed both mugs on the side table, then slipped down into the pillows and coaxed her to follow. Thanks to his shifter healing, he was practically good as new—minus the lingering tenderness and slight muscle weakness—which was good because Syve had turned over and was clinging to him like a little barnacle.
As she softly snored against his chest, he remained awake, contemplating—unable to close his eyes no matter how hard he tried.
Syve
Aimi’sblackandblondespace buns bounced around behind the counter as she and Toni tackled the morning rush.
Legs tucked under herself, Syve waited from her spot on the little green sofa for her friend to return. She had just finished telling Aimi about everything that had transpired the night prior when dozens of patrons poured in for their daily AM brew.
Before walking down to The Glass, Syve and Bas had parked her old truck and his Jeep behind the loft. She had led him inside and given him the option to watch TV upstairsinstead of freezing in the shop, then warned him it would likely be a half hour or more before she returned.
Bas said he already assumed ‘a quick coffee run’ between Syve and Aimi would take at least that long, if not more—especially with the news Syve would be sharing.
They agreed during that morning’s pillow talk that Aimi would be allowed to know, mostly because Syve refused to keep a secret from her best friend, but also because her brother was a lawyer and that meant she had insider knowledge of ways they could legally take Gunther down. The last reason was because Cyrus was missing and of everyone in town, Aimi was the most likely to see him.
“Bitch, you need at least twelve extra shots, but I don’t want you to have a heart attack,” Aimi said, presenting Syve with one of her signature extra-large to-go mugs, steam spilling from the top. “So, I put in three.”
She plopped onto the sofa, careful not to spill her own drink. Syve huffed, amused and wrapped her hands around her coveted coffee.
“So, any ideas?” Syve asked.
Aimi opened her mouth but Syve quickly added, “legalideas.”
Aimi snapped her jaw shut with a frown.
The women sat back-to-back on the couch for a few minutes, each scouring the internet on their phones for anything useful. Syve learned that even with evidence of poaching in Montana, the defendant would, at worst, only receive sixmonths of jail time, possible seizure of their firearms and a lifetime revocation of their hunting rights. When she shared that news over her shoulder she had been met with a string of very creative expletives.
“I’m not going to lie to you right now. It’s a real shame Butcher boy wasn’t able to—you know. I wouldn’t feel bad or miss the guy, personally. In fact, after hearing what he did to you, Idarehim to walk in here so I can finish the job myself—theaudacity!To put his nasty ass mouth on yours—makes me want to gargle bleach.”
Her animated rant had her shaking the entire couch as she carried on, arms waving chaotically.
A ringing phone cut Aimi off and she shifted to put her chin on Syve’s shoulder. The two looked at the phone, still ringing in Syve’s hand.
“Who is it?”
“Dunno, I don’t recognize the number. It’s a 406…so, local? I should probably—Hello?”
She answered before Aimi could convince her not to. On the other end, a lady by the name of Eva spoke quickly, as if she had somewhere far more important to be. Syve froze at her words, convinced she was hearing them wrong.
“Tomorrow morning, 9:30 a.m., yes, I can be there. Thank you!” She ended the call and blinked.
