Page 17 of The Incubus's Angel
Making Maisie just a little happy, brings me joy too.
My tail gives a happy twitch and I quickly bring it forward, coiling it around my leg to keep it from giving away my emotions.
I eat while Maisie chats, telling me about the karaoke night she went to for the first time and the new friends she made.
“You know Marisol, right? The owner of The Singing Seahorse pub? She’s so beautiful and so sweet. We got to talking and we decided we’re going to have a Ladies’ Night at the pubsoon. You know what? You guys should totally have a Bro Night or whatever the male equivalent is. I refuse to call it a Boys Night because there’s nothing boyish about you.” Maisie catches herself, her eyes widening comically large as the last sentence floats in the silence between us.
If I could, I’d smirk at her because my thoughts about Maisie have been anything but boyish. Instead, I pretend I didn’t hear it and say, “Sounds like you had a great night there. I’m glad you’re making more friends too.”
She sighs happily. “Me too. I’m starting to really like Starry Hill. Not that I didn’t like it before, but now it’s just easier to like, if you know what I mean. And, obviously, you’re also a big part of that.”
Before I can stop myself, I blurt out, “Really?”
Maisie studies me like it’s the first time she’s seeing me, or maybe it’s the first time I’ve let my insecurities show so blatantly. There’s no breezy laugh or twinkle in her eye now, only understanding and, I guess, determination.
Her voice is a little more than a whisper, her brows drawn together. “Of course, Ren.”
I don’t know what she reads on my face, but she quickly tucks her expression away and switches gears, “You have a laptop, right? You can come work here sometimes and keep me company. Especially on days like today when it’s fairly quiet. And then we can hang out more besides on just Tuesdays. But only if you want.”
My fork pauses on my plate and I ignore the nerves twisting in my stomach as I make sure to meet Maisie’s green gaze. “I’d like that.”
Chapter 9
Maisie
It’s late morning by the time I wake, my eyes opening with less effort than they usually need, and a faint smile already tugging on my lips as I stretch my entire body out on the tiny bed.
Last night, Marisol came by The Flowering Teapot and we started making plans for Ladies’ Night. We discussed music and food and got excited about everyone we’ll invite. The hardest part was settling on a date since we want it to happen fairly soon, but we need enough time to get all the supplies to the island.
It feels so good to make another friend in Starry Hill, and if I’m not careful I’m going to grow roots here.Would that be so bad, though?It might be if I didn’t have a job anymore. I know helping out at The Flowering Teapot is only temporary, and it won’t be too long until Aunt Annamae is back in full force. Besides, I can’t live in their tiny spare bedroom forever.
I shrug at myself. That’s a worry for another day. I’ll cross that bridge when I get there. Today is Ren Day!
A quick hop in the shower later, I slip into a sundress, wrangle my curls into a giant messy bun, and grab my picnic basket, stuffing it full of ingredients and loads of spices. Before I leave the house, I rush back and grab my favorite picnic blanket from my room. Or, as I now like to refer to it: my masturbation blanket.
Since that explosive orgasm in the tangerine grove followed by one of the best naps I’ve had since I came to Starry Hill, I may have made masturbation picnics a regular occurrence—including picturing Ren while I touch myself. He’d probably be mortified if he knew, but I can’t help it. He’s just so… so… orgasm-worthy.
I fold all those thoughts away neatly and move them to the back part of my brain. Then, I’m skipping out of the cottage and straight to Ren’s.
I smile as I pass the beginnings of the tangerine grove, my mind racing with recipes and ideas all the way up to Ren’s home.
Hand poised to knock, the door swings open to a ridiculously attractive Ren, his face hovering between relief and concern. Disheveled hair sticks up in different directions like he’s been tugging on it for ages.
“Are you okay?” I ask him, my hand instantly finding his forearm, needing to comfort him however I can.
“Are you?” he asks, worry lacing the question.
“Huh? Me? I’m great,” I answer easily.
“I just thought… It’s… Never mind.” Ren runs his hand through his hair, pulling on the ends at the back of his head.
My hand tightens on his forearm. “No, no. Tell me, please.”
Ren’s brows crease, his gaze shifting to somewhere around our feet as he says in a low voice, “I know we didn’t specify a time that you’ll be here, but I was worried. It’s later than last time.”
My hand drops away as his concern hits me straight in the solar plexus. “I’m sorry. I wish my phone worked on the island, but the signal here sucks. I got back late last night because Marisol came to the café to discuss plans for Ladies’ Night. And this morning, I slept in. You know how I am about sleep. Not that it’s an excuse. I’m really so sorry, Ren. I didn’t want to worry you.”
“It’s okay. I was overreacting. And you don’t owe me an excuse. Come in,” he says and gently takes the basket from me.
