“I’m not a baby,” Rose said, her smile waning.
Page warned him with a glare that he better compliment Rose’s dress or else he was going to have to deal with waterworks.
Justus knelt down and kissed Rose on the forehead. “Très jolis.My little girl is growing up too fast.”
Rose wrapped her arms around his neck. “Nuh-uh. I’m still little. You can pick me up.”
Justus scooped her up with one arm and stood. Then he placed quick kisses on her neck until his whiskers made her giggle and squirm. He hadn’t always been an affectionate man, and he still struggled with it in public, but when it came to Page and Rose, they were the exceptions to the rule. Justus never withheld his affection from either of them, especially Rose.
He said something to her in French.
Rose nodded. “Oui.”
“Très bien, mon petit ange.” He winked at Page, and while she had no idea what he had said,mon angewas a term of endearment that he’d given Page a long time ago. Sometimes he called Rose his little angel.
He set her down, and she took off toward the front door while Justus gave Page another long and thoughtful kiss. She felt protected in his arms, as if he could shield her from all the dangers in the world. Justus was six feet tall with broad shoulders, tattoos on his right arm and back, a warrior’s gaze, and closely shaven hair. He wasn’t the kind of man she had ever imagined herself falling for, but he was noble, loving, and a gifted artist.
Unfortunately, he had given up painting centuries ago, so Page had recently converted one of their spare rooms into a studio. It didn’t seem right to let his talent go to waste, and he spent so much time working on cases that it seemed like a good way to help him relax. She bought canvases, paint, and brushes in hopes that it would awaken the passion he’d long given up. He hadn’t brought the subject up, but it warmed her heart each time she spied him sneaking into the room.
“Wow!” Rose shrieked from the hall.
Curious, Page moved around Justus and peered outside. There were bags upon bags of Christmas ornaments and tinsel spilling onto the floor.
“Why didn’t you leave everything downstairs?”
His neck turned red. “I didn’t want anyone to see. It took me three trips to get it all up here.”
She laughed. “Well, you’re just going to have to face the hecklers and take it all back down. You’re the one on tree duty, and that meansyoudecorate. Hiding the evidence isn’t going to make it go away.”
His shoulders sagged.
Page furrowed her brow as Rose opened a bag and revealed how many items were inside. “How much did all this cost?”
Justus walked by her and hefted a bag. “I have an Aston Martin, a Mercedes, a Ferrari, and a collection of luxury watches, and you want to know how much a few plastic ornaments cost?”
She knelt down and picked up a sumo wrestler. “Maybe I’m just curious how much you thought this hideous thing was worth.”
Chapter 5
Adam
Adam maneuvered around the corner, the back tire of his motorcycle skidding over a patch of ice. The streets on this side of Cognito were recently sanded, but most areas were impassable. He needed to get to Silver’s before dark, especially since his visor kept fogging up. He’d driven across a few snowy streets and had a few scary moments trying to stabilize the bike.
When he reached the flower shop, he pulled onto the sidewalk and parked beneath the awning. The best part about the city shutting down was the VIP parking. He tucked his black helmet under his arm and went inside, grateful when a rush of air warmed his face.
Man, going to the Christmas party was going to be awkward as hell. He’d almost declined the invitation since everyone there was either mated or related. Once again, he’d be sitting in a corner somewhere, watching.
The woman at the register gave him a rushed greeting. “I was just about to close up.”
When he neared the counter and she noticed the scars on his face, her demeanor became guarded. Adam was used to it. A lot of humans associated scars with villains, and while Adam had done some bad shit in his life, he wasn’t that guy anymore. He was just a Mage who earned an honest living as a Healer. He worked alongside Page, and their clients kept them busy, even though there were a few assholes who didn’t think he could do a sufficient job because of his own injuries. Still, he wouldn’t trade it for anything.
Adam put a friendly vibe in his voice and lowered his eyes so the older woman wouldn’t hit a panic alarm. “I just came in to buy some flowers for a party. Do you think they’ll fit in my backpack?” He turned a little to show her the long, empty backpack he was wearing.
She tilted her head to the side and steered her gaze toward the front window where his motorcycle was parked. “I can wrap them up in paper, but I can’t guarantee they’ll survive if you have a long way to go.”
He scratched the side of his nose and looked around, overcome by the heavy floral perfume.
The woman appeared beside him and presented a pot of poinsettias. “This should do it. They’re perfect for the occasion.”
