“Well, yeah. When humans are exposed to the supernatural in a shocking or forceful way, their eyes are opened. Until that happens, most of them are just minding their own business, thinking I’m a bodybuilder with huge feet and your wife and daughter have rosy complexions.”
“I don’t have to hide? I grew up—”
“Oh, believe me, that’s all too common. If you grow up always thinking you have to hide, you’re shocked when you realize you don’t have to. It happens a lot if your parents didn’t raise you in a paranormal community.”
All my life, I’ve been urged to speak as little as possible, shouted into silence, and insulted for thinking aloud. Right now, some of my newfound freedom asserts itself. “Laurel and I could go to the park? And the library?”
“Yep. If you want glamours just in case, the magic shop sells them.”
Artie and I exchange glances. “Glamour?”
“Something you wear, like a pendant that keeps people from seeing your ‘true form.’”
Artie jumps in, “But I did see Laurel. And Imogene. I’m a good guy, but what if bad guys were to—”
Milo’s kindly face turns into something fierce. He picks up the baby carrier hanging over his arm and holds it closer to his massive chest. “That’s why there’s a Night Watch in Pine Ridge. That’s why we look out for each other here. There are bad people in the world, men who look human and have the hearts of monsters. They don’t get to exist in Pine Ridge for long.”
Artie looks stunned. Then satisfied. “Good. H-how do I sign up for this thing?”
Is it normal to feel your tummy full of wriggling, fluttering heat when you see a guy hint he’ll dispatch bad men and evil monsters to protect his baby?
“Well...”
“I know I’m not big or buff like you or that scaly guy who just walked into the store, but I’m not going to sit on my ass and let someone else protect my family without at least offering to help.”
The fluttering spreads. My cheeks feel hot. Am I blushing?
Someone just offered to protect me, too. Kind of. That’s never happened. Barton would tell me that’s not what Artie meant, but I don’t care. I’m in his family. At least, we’re pretending.
I hardly allowed myself to venture into pretend or make-believe as a child, and daydreams always ended in harsh warnings and bad realities as a teenager and young adult. I don’t want this game to end. I’m already dreading it, even though it’s only just started.
Milo’s big grin is back when Artie makes his speech. “Give me your number? We can talk. And Imogene, I’m sure my wife would love to talk to you, too. New mom commiseration and venting. Our little guy looks like he’s about the same age as your daughter.”
“Three months?” I say in a shaky voice, trying to smooth it out and look calm. Confident.
“Yep! Born in July.”
Milo and Arti exchange numbers. I take my gloves off. Lower my hood.
No one stares. Points. Screams.
“I like it here,” I whisper to Artie when we finally strap Laurel’s carrier into the cart and walk inside.
“I do, too. I never... I mean, not until I saw Laurel...” Artie’s head swivels, and so does mine.
Most people are perfectly normal-looking. But there’s the man who might be some kind of demon, or maybe a half-dragon, and a pale green woman with long, gorgeous hair.
People smile at me.
I learn how to smile back without my chin trembling and looking down fast. I almost scream when Artie taps my arm.
“Do I call you my wife?” he hisses in an undertone.
“Yes.” Absolutely. Let me play in my happy world for a little longer. Maybe a year, or two, or ten. Make up for all the years where there was nothing but longing and emptiness, knowing this wasn’t how life was supposed to be.
“I don’t have a ring.”
“That’s okay. We have each other,” I say staunchly.
