Page 19 of Moonlight and Mischief
Onyx doesn’t win a second time, but I go easy on him when I pin him against the mat. Across the gym, I spy Fisher grappling with Slate, the older man slowly losing ground.
Two and a half hours later, Onyx is taking my patrol with Cassia and Vale, and I’m headed toward the meadow.
Right on time, the wildlings pour out of the schoolhouse and tumble toward the diner to get their lunches. I wait for Marigold to follow them, but she doesn’t.
Minutes tick by, and I begin to suspect that she is choosing to work through lunch, or is simply too distracted to remember to grab food.
Absolutely unacceptable.
Chewing my lip, I try to remember how Marigold prefers her hamburgers. Cheese, bacon, who doesn’t love bacon, and maybe some veg? I take it easy on the sauce because I can’t recall her eating mustard or ketchup in front of me. Surely she likes the secret sauce Crickett makes, but if not - I’ll rush back to the lunch spread and make her a new one. She deserves to eat what she likes.
I push open the classroom door with my back while holding both lunch plates. Marigold putters around the tables, her long hair swaying as she moves, twisted into a thick braid. She’s wearing a dress, a dark goldenrod color with tiny burgundy mushrooms scattered across the fabric. It hugs her trim waist and flares over those luscious hips.
With a cough, I force my gaze up to her head. I really shouldn’t be looking at her hips. Or that ass. But the soft curls escaping her plaited reddish-gold hair are just as distracting.
She turns at the sound of my footsteps and smiles. It hits me like sunshine after a lifetime of shadow, warm and a little blinding.
“Did you forget to eat again?” I tease, holding up the food as an offering.
“You didn’t have to do that,” she protests, closing the distance between us. I have a sudden impulse to hug her, maybe lift her off the ground. Delicately, she takes the plate and hops onto the nearest table.
“Thank you.” She stuffs three potato chips into her mouth at the same time.
Between bites of cheeseburger, I survey the classroom. I’m not sure I’ve actually been in here before.
“This is a really nice space. I love how much of the kids’ art is on the walls. I’m sure they feel really special,” I say, thinking out loud.
“Thanks,” Marigold says, a rosy tint spreading across her nose and cheeks. Her ankles cross and uncross twice.
Wiping the salt off my fingers, I realize I should have brought drinks. Marigold must have the same thought because she takes a drink from her hydro flask and then holds it out to me. Sharing drinks, that’s a new thing. I’m not about to turn her down though. With a slight hesitation, I close my lips around the built-in straw and take a long drink.
“Is this flavored water?”
Marigold shrugs with a guilty smile. “Yeah, I think today it’s strawberry-watermelon, maybe? It helps me drink more water. Otherwise, I’m so busy chasing these kids around that I forget to drink anything and end up dehydrated.”
“Smart.” I take another sip, loving the way it reminds me of her. “So will you be home right after work or do you have plans?” Her lips curl into a smile at the wordhome.
Looking away, she shrugs. “I think I’ll stop by my dad’s cabin for a bit. Not sure I’ll be back before dinner, but we can eat right away and then have some hang-out time afterward.”
Her dad’s cabin… her father is a Zeta and happens to have the late afternoon patrol, so he won’t be home. Indigo will be with her grandmother apprenticing, and her youngest brother, Cobalt, always plays soccer with the other kids his age until dinner. Unless she’s babysitting Cobalt, it sounds like she’s visiting an empty cabin.
“Why?” I ask tentatively, against my better judgment.
Marigold hesitates, taking a bite of her hamburger. I watch her chew and swallow, not ready to let it go. “I like to check in on them.”
That’s evasive.
My eyes narrow. “Aren’t your dad and brothers all out of the house between school and dinner?”
“Oh, yeah,” she answers, her voice a bit higher. “Sometimes I like to help out a bit. You know?”
I didn’t know, but I nod along and toss the last bite of my lunch into my mouth. Mentally, I catalog each of her words so I can mull them over later because it sounds like she’s going over to help out with housekeeping and that would be strange.
Before I can question her further, Willow, Elwood, and Daisy storm into the classroom, arguing loudly. I catch the words wolf, gray, and biggest.
“Shush, you won’t know what your wolf looks like until it happens, so chill,” Marigold scolds, clearly familiar with the argument.
She shoos them to the table where she’s laid out various math worksheets with the kids’ names written in bold sharpie across the top so they don’t grab the wrong one. It must be tricky preparing so many differentgrades at the same time.
