Page 102 of Tail, Dark and Handsome: Celestial Mates
His pencil tapped against notecard number eight, carefully labeled asGreet Clarity. Zero sat at the dining room table, fully dressed in several warm layers and an overcoat.
“What do I say?” The pencil tapped vigorously to the point Mari feared it would break. He needed to expend his nervous energy. Mari handed him a tissue, which he tore into shreds.
“Say hello first. Then compliment her, but make sure it’s about something that she chose, a decision, not just her appearance.”
“What? Is that a rule? I have never heard this rule before. I am not ready for new rules.”
Mari handed him another tissue that soon drifted to the floor in small pieces. “Tell her that you like her outfit.”
“Do I? How do you know?” His eyes went wide.
“It’s a thing to say.”
“You want me tolie? Merry-gold!”
Mari might have laughed at the scandalous tone to his voice if she didn’t suspect he was on the verge of a panic attack. “It’s not a lie if you like her outfit.”
“But what if it is plaid?” he whispered, like plaid was the worst thing imaginable.
“Tell her that it looks very warm. Maybe say her hair looks nice in that style.”
“What style? How do you know this? I’m so confused.”
Mari straightened the collar of his overcoat. He had to be boiling in it. “I know because I’ve been narly fifteen and nervous about a first date too. I spent hours doing and redoing my hair. And changing outfits.”
Zero frowned, then looked to his father. “Do I need to change? Is this not appropriate?”
“It is appropriate for the weather. You look acceptable.”
Wow. The gushing and overwhelming praise.
“Your tail looks very nice in that,” she added, because she felt Winter’s scant approval left something to be desired.
Winter and Zero stood there in shock with their mouths gaping open. Winter clapped his hands over Zero’s ears, mouth still open in shock. Zero squirmed as his father pushed him out of the room, hands still protectively over his ears.
Winter’s eyes never left hers. His mouth never closed.
“What?” she asked as she followed them out, confused. “He looked very handsome. Was that rude? If it was, definitely don’t say anything like that.”
Winter
The carnival was a cacophony of noise and light. He took a tablet earlier to get in front of the inevitable headache and wore tinted glasses. Zero and Clarity disappeared into the crowd.
Marigold squeezed his hand. “Now what?”
“Any number of things.” This was a school-sponsored event with staff and parental volunteers acting as chaperones. They did not have to stay. In fact, he would rather prefer to leave the overwhelming light and noise behind.
“Oh my stars, they have funnel cakes, or it smells like funnel cakes. Good enough for me.” She took a dramatic sniff and turned to him, a mischievous gleam to her eyes. “Dessert for dinner?”
“That is not healthy.”
She made a dismissive noise. “Come on, let’s put a hurting on our cholesterol,” she said, grabbing him by the hand and dragging him toward a food stand that reeked of grease and sugar.
“We have a reservation.” At a high-end restaurant, so exclusive that he paid a considerable sum to get a last-minute reservation.
“Funnel. Cakes,” his mate repeated.
Minutes later they had deep-fried dough covered in sugar and a thick, sticky syrup that claimed to be fruit. Marigold closed her eyes and hummed as she chewed, her smooth tongue darting out to lick the sticky syrup from her lips.
