To the house she and Bradley raised their younglings in.
Ready to face life again, now what she has always known in her soul has been confirmed: that Bradley is alive.
This is, frankly, wonderful news, but it does have a teeny-tiny downside. It means Otis and I will have to curb our noisy and exuberant lovemaking. We will find a place of our own at some stage, which of course is what we want in the long term.
But that can wait until we’re married. Right now, with all that is happening, and so much uncertainty, a wedding is on the back burner.
So what else can I tell you?
Jax is being tutored by Traggar on how to fully tame his wolf before he ventures into Sparkle City. He needs to curb its power with wisdom and self-control. Apparently there are potions that could assist that process. Tippy could probably make him one.
—If Jax and her were on speaking terms.
Trouble is, Tippy is refusing to talk to Jax now that she’s found out he’s a werewolf.
So they’re at a bit of an impasse.
Watch this space, I guess.
As for Otis and me, we are deeply, madly in love. And while a ceremony and a ring would be lovely, to use Otis’s words, they would just be the icing on the cake of our love.
Suddenly I hear Otis’s feet coming down the passageway.
He’s finished work early so we can spend our last night together, alone and intimate.
And loud!
I skip into the wardrobe and close the door.
I hear him enter the room. Peeping out between the doors of the wardrobe, I see him standing there, scratching his head as he stares at the empty bed, perplexed.
“What the fuck…” he murmurs, then louder, “Clem, where are you babe?”
I wait, holding my breath. Just as he is about to stomp out to the bathroom, I let out a snorty little giggle.
He turns, and I see him glare at the wardrobe.
Then a grin spreads slowly across his face.
He prowls closer. A big green hand reaches out to grab the handle.
Flinging open the doors, I jump out wearing his sheriff’s jacket and his sheriff’s hat.
“Tada!” I shout.
“Well hello, little boss,” he smirks.
He makes to take me in his arms, but I push him back, pressing my palm against his abs, and walk him backward.
Otis plays along, pretending I’m pushing him much harder than I am, as he lands on the bed with the lightest tap to his chest.
“Tonight, I am sheriff,” I announce gruffly, standing over him with hands splayed on my hips, legs spread wide. I see him staring lasciviously at my bare thighs, licking his lips and it’s so hard to keep the smile off my face.
“I have to inform you that you are failing in your duty,” I growl.
He pulls a mock terrified face. “I am?”
“Yes. You work long hours and don’t pleasure your mate nearly enough.”
