Page 88 of Tail, Dark and Handsome: Celestial Mates
Ah. Winter understood. This was not a poorly thought out kidnapping plot but an equally poorly planned attempt to steal his attention. Very well.
“Yes. My meeting with the engineering team ended early,” he said.
Zero’s tail vibrated with glee. “Come on! Don’t make me late.” He climbed into the back of the vehicle and immediately took off his shoes and socks.
Marigold watched him for a long moment, still rubbing her wrist, before finally seating herself behind the vehicle’s wheel.
“Call me a traditionalist, but don’t you need to wear shoes to run?” Marigold asked, already fastening her safety harness.
“These are my lucky socks. I can’t believe I left them behind on the ship. I’ve been searching for them forever.” Zero waved a pair of very dingy, very crusty socks that looked like they could run on their own.
“They look like they need a good wash,” Marigold said.
“Yes! Aren’t they great? I forgot I put them under the mattress in my cabin,” Zero replied.
“That…explains a lot about the funky smell in your room. You know, you can wash lucky socks.”
“Incorrect. Luck accumulates.”
“And smells.”
“It’s a price I’m willing to pay,” Zero said, his voice serious.
“Well, it’s a price I’m not interested in smelling. Crack a window, champ.”
Winter relaxed into his seat, listening to the banter between his mate and his son. Peace swelled over him. The cursed bot project could trundle its way into the ocean for all he cared.
Marigold
Winter was in a mood and Mari had no desire to deal with him at the moment. The way he grabbed her wrist, like she had to be punished, lingered. He had squeezed tight enough to leave a bruise, but his claws remained under control. So pissed but not super pissed. Only, she had no idea what crawled up his butt. Did Tal say that? Bit his tail? That sounded right.
She knew he adhered to rigid schedules and accounted for every minute of the day, but flipping out like that for an unplanned detour made no sense. Then his mood did a total flip when Zero arrived with his grubby socks.
Seriously. She needed to talk with the kit about hygiene. On one hand, Zero avoided the nasty body sprays and cologne that Joseph seemed to have bathed in at his age, but the other hand clutched a pair of socks rank enough to have visible stink lines.
The school grounds were crowded with students, the athletes, adults, and other spectators. Zero grabbed his gear and dashed off to greet his teammates.
“Find us when you’re done,” Mari shouted to his retreating form.
Most of the spectators were seated on bleachers, but Mari found a bit of lawn sheltered by trees to break the blustering wind. She spread out a blanket and settled in. Winter paced, his hair tousled by the wind. Her locks whipped about her face, despite pulling her hair back in a ponytail.
His comm unit buzzed, and he wandered off to take the call.
Mari pulled out her reader, content to spend her time with a book until the race began. Or Zero’s heat. She operated with a minimal understanding of the sport.
Lost in her book, she slowly recognized the prickling sensation of being watched. She shifted, her butt growing uncomfortable on the ground, and looked around. A few more families joined her on the lawn and she envied those clever enough to bring chairs.
The crowd had grown considerably. Mostly Corravian, she spotted a few familiar faces she recognized from the line of waiting adults for after school pickup. She perked, hand half-raised in greeting, at the woman who borrowed her comm unit a week ago. A figure, human by the lack of horns and tail, disappeared behind the bleachers.
Still, the feeling of being watched remained. Curious, Mari twisted to look into the trees. There was nothing behind her except a group of giggling students. A gust of wind rustled through the tree, shaking loose a few leaves.
A woman approached, human, wearing a thick wrap in the local style so it formed a hood and looped over her torso. Mari envied how warm that wrap looked. The woman also carried a toddler with her, similarly wrapped but fighting for freedom. Behind her marched a Tal man, carrying various bags and a picnic basket.
“Hello, Mrs. Cayne. I’m with Clarity. Kalini. I don’t believe we’ve met,” she said with a warm smile. A tiny fist broke free of the fabric, fingers clutching at Kalini’s face. “And this is Felicity. She’s due for a nap, but I suspect she’ll fight it. That’s Merit, my mate. Mind if we join you?”
“Oh. Yes. Please.” Mari surged to her feet and held out an awkward hand for a shake. “Mari. Not Mrs. Cayne. Fiancée, actually,” she said, already tired of explaining that. Everyone assumed, and Winter did nothing to correct their assumptions. It made Mari feel like a sneak, trying to slip into a role meant for another woman and always being compared to the infamous, best-loved Rebel Cayne.
She couldn’t compete with a dead woman and didn’t want to borrow a name that did not belong to her.
