“Okay.” I climbed out of bed and grabbed my jeans. “Pickles and ice cream. Anything else?”
“Maybe really crunchy chips? And the kind of hot sauce that makes your mouth hurt.”
I was about to say that might not be good for the baby, but Pax was carrying our child, and he would never suggest anything that might harm our little one. But also, my mate wasn’t a big fan of anything spicy, so it must’ve been the baby demanding it.
“I love hot food now.” He kissed me. “It must be because I’m mated to a dragon.”
I ran a hand through my hair as Pax was pulling on his clothes.
“Hurry. I’m starving, and I want to make sure you get the right pickles.”
Gods, my mate was adorable. I pulled him into my arms and smothered his face with kisses.
“Yeah, yeah. Pickles first, then kisses.”
There weren’t a lot of choices in our town, but there was a 24-hour grocery store on the highway. Pax blinked as we walked into the brightly lit store. The place was empty except for the cashier, a wolf shifter named Dean I’d gone to school with, and a bored guy stacking shelves.
Pax took the lead and headed for the pickle aisle, and I watched him scan the shelves. He picked up one jar but put it down after reading the label. He shook his head after a second.
“These are boring, and this jar is dill. I want something to burn my mouth off.” He grabbed a third jar with a red label. “Spicy garlic. I want these.”
I peered at the remaining spicy ones on the shelf and read the ingredients. Even my dragon turned his nose up.
“Now for ice cream.”
I held the pickles while Pax debated over which ice cream to get. When he decided on vanilla, he explained it had to be plain as a contrast to the pickles. Even though he wasn’t eating them together, my stomach heaved at the idea of both churning around in his belly, but my beast said he’d protect the baby from the heat.
“I might want to alternate. Pickles with one bite and ice cream in the next.
That was pregnancy logic, and it sounded just fine to me.
“Chips.” Pax squeed and reminded me of my young cousins at Christmas. He picked up two bags and followed that with a bottle of hot sauce that had a skull and crossbones on the label.
“That looks dangerous.”
“Good.” He narrowed his eyes, and his nostrils flared. “I love danger.” He blew me a kiss. “I am mated to a fire-breathing dragon.”
I said hi to Dean, and he nodded. He didn’t react to our late-night haul, and I guessed in his job he’d seen weirder things in the middle of the night.
Back at the house, Pax put everything on the kitchen counter. “Goody. Now burn them.” He pulled out half the pickles and put them on a metal tray.
I moved toward the stove to turn on the gas, but my mate grabbed me.
“Not the stove.”
Did he expect me to build a fire outside? I would, but we had a ready-made flame on the stove.
Pax giggled. “Love, you have a dragon inside you. One who breathes fire whether he has his scales or not. Surely he can singe my pickles.” He held up a hand. “Just a tad, I don’t want them incinerated.”
He wants me to help. Awww, that’s so sweet.
“It has to be from your dragon.” He patted his belly. “The babies are demanding it.”
I took his hand and led him outside because I wasn’t doing a partial shift in the house and giving my dragon free rein. He might burn down the place.
I would never.
Burned curtains, remember those?
