She cocks her head at Corvus. “At the florist’s? Since when are you interested in flowers?”
Fuck. Corvus is gonna kill me. Literally skin me or poison me, whichever he fancies at the moment. It sounded reasonable in my head. Like somewhere a classy guy could be, but apparently not.
I’m surprised when he doesn’t show any of the frustration he must surely feel and speaks. “I needed an ingredient.”
“An ingredient?” she asks, snorting.
“Aningredient,” my fiancé says, stressing the word more.
His mother flinches, her eyes wide open. “Oh... of course—”
“I was trying an old recipe from Father’s cookbook,” Corvus tells her before briefly glancing my way. The weight of his stare has me shrinking, but at least it’s gone a moment later. “So yes, a florist. A club isn’t the right place to meet one’s future spouse.”
I guess a cell isn’t either, but here we are. “And I was…” Quick. What would make me look good, but not be an easily verifiable lie? “I’ve got this elderly neighbor, and she was recovering from surgery, so I was getting her some flowers.” There. Dalton Cross. An upstanding citizen. “We just got talking from there…”
She steals a longer glance at me from shoes to hat. Is she still assessing if I’m trash? I hope my face and size work in my favor. Despite me swinging the other way, women do tend to like me.
“About shared hobbies? Like art, literature, and classical music?”
“I don’t remember lack of shared hobbies interfering when you and Father were married,” Corvus interjects somberly and places his hand on my back in a way that feels weirdly… protective?
What… ofme?
No one’s ever beenprotective of me.
She scoffs again. “That’s no way to talk to one’s mother!”
“It’s true though,” Corvus tells her firmly. “I don’t need my spouse to enjoy all the same things, but to complement my life.”
I don’t want to seem smug, so I fight the smile trying to rip my face in half. My heart is beating faster, and I just want to kiss him so bad. And then tackle him into the snow and make out in a little basin tailored to our entwined bodies.
“Mrs. Van der Horn, I’m sorry the way you met me wasn’t ideal, but I promise you this thing between us is real, and I cherish your son more than life itself.” I swallow and my eyes drift to Corvus. So maybe my words are embellished with glitter posing as gold, but if I only said that to keep up the illusion of us being a real couple, why did I feel all that imagined love for the fraction of a second?
Her eyes soften, the way Corvus’s do sometimes. “Okay, let’s exchange numbers, so I can reach you when Corvus is ‘too busy’.” She adds making air quotes.
“Oh, okay,” I say, a bit stunned, but my man speaks up.
“That won’t be necessary, Mother. So… what is it you needed to tell me so urgently?” he asks.
She throws her hands in the air, and it’s funny to see how expressive she is when Corvus is such an ice sculpture. I wonder if that’s what his father was like. “Well, the wedding of course! I started making arrangements and there’s so much we need to discuss. I also obviously need to talk to you about this whole… gay thing, but the wedding takes precedence.”
Now it’s gotten real, and even my marble statue of a future husband crumbles.
“What? What are you talking about? Since when are you in charge ofmywedding?”
She straightens and puts her hands on her hips with a combative frown. “Since you’re my son and I’ve dreamed of this for years. Can I not have this one thing after you kept me in the dark for so long? I didn’t even push you towards marriage. I’m just facilitating what you already said you intend!”
I see this as an opportunity to get in her good graces, so I slide my arm to Corvus’s waist. “I mean… you’re busy, I don’t know the first thing about weddings, so why not let your mother help?”
It seems like the perfect reaction until Corvus’s eyes flash in alarm, and he goes rigid at my touch. But before he can protest, his mother claps her gloved hands.
“I’m happy at least one of you is reasonable. Here, this is my number,” she says, handing me a little card.
I quickly make use of my new phone and text her so she can have mine. As her smile widens, so grows the relief in my heart. Corvus might be worried, but I’m sure it will be for the better to appease her.
“Put me in as Daphne. Do we have a date set yet?” she asks, looking giddy, as if she didn’t glare at me with disgust only minutes prior.
“No,” Corvus says without missing a beat.
