She sniffed inside the costume. At least it had been cleaned, though it was going to be a tight fit.
She wrestled the ungainly thing over herself, one wing, then two. A very tight fit. Sweat began running down her back as she struggled to get the zip done up. Her body strained inside the costume, the jeans giving her the wedgie of the century as she yanked the chicken head over hers.
Then she straightened up, the seams straining as she spotted bright yellow gloves lying at the bottom of the bag on top of the big orange feet, which apparently had been cut out of swim flippers.
Gah, this thing was tight. Unwelcome, Bill’s voice in memory whined,If you get pregnant you’ll get fat ... I can’t have a fat wife at company parties—I’ll look like a total loser—
Don’t go there, she scolded herself. Just don’t.
More seams creaked as she stuffed a foot into the left orange flipper. “Oh, snit-biscuits. I should have put the feet on before—”
“Knock knock,” came an unfamiliar voice. A man’s voice. From the wide-open front door, she realized a second later.
She shot upright.
R-R-R-I-I-I-P!went the jeans.
The chicken head flew off, thumping against the wall as she gazed straight into the eyes of the handsomest man ever born. He stood framed in the doorway, a black tee-shirt and low-slung jeans molded to a long, lean body with muscular curves that made her palms itch to touch. Tousled, wavy dark hair above a chiseled face dominated by a pair of long-lashed dark eyes that caused her heart to stutter. And below those eyes, a gorgeous mouth wide in the sweetest smile she had ever seen.
Oh. My. G-g-g-guh.
Then she looked down at herself, the mental picture hideously clear: her face beet red, her hair a snarled and sweaty mess, her body stuffed into a monumentally pregnant chicken costume, one orange foot sticking out.
So very ladylike, Mom.
She plopped onto the couch and laughed. No well-bredtee-hee-hee. This situation was a million miles from lady-like. And a full-on belly laugh ripped free.
TWO
ALEJO
MATE, bassooned his serpent, resonating through Alejo’s bones.
Alejo barely heard. It was all he could do to stand there, as every cell in his body ignited into sun heat. Sunlight. He was utterly spellbound by the most wonderful laugh he had ever heard in his life. It was rich and warm, liquid brilliance pouring through him.
He managed not to let his jaw bounce off the floor. Was it even possible, after all this time? He had never before experienced this feeling, as if his human self had become pure air, and each particle of dust surrounding him—the color of the afternoon, the homey furnishings—had all been charged with promise. Because they framed the most wonderful woman in the world, the most beautiful, the sexiest, the warmest, the charmingest, the…
He was blithering.
Inside his head.
SHE CAN TAKE US TO OUR NEW NEST!
Okay, Alejo heard that.
He took a deep breath, and reached for reality. He stood in his mother’s house, facing a human woman who he was fairly certain knew nothing about mates, much less the hidden world of shifters. And he had no idea what to do next. Except to shove his serpent back down before he sprouted wings and scales, and really made a mess of things.You do realize she is not a chicken, right, buddy?
His serpent ignored the mild joke. Being a chimera, Alejo had been born with a dual nature within him—serpent, the protector, and winged lion, the defender. Neither nature was exactly gabby, but he knew from long experience that while the serpent wanted Alejo to have a mate, his winged lion wanted a family. For a long time, every woman he was even mildly attracted to, his lion had been sure that a family was right around the corner. But his serpent had remained stubbornly silent. And nothing had happened.
Alejo’s shifter friends had paired off one by one over the years. Mythic shifters lived long lives, but when the kids of Alejo’s childhood friend Lance turned into young adults, he had smiled and celebrated their achievements along with his friends, inwardly trying to accept that not every shifter found a mate.
Maaaaybe this time it was real?
YES! MATE! NEST! FAMILY! His lion roared.
Okay, slow down, slow down. One, she’s human, so we’re not going to overwhelm her. Second, we don’t even know her name yet, Alejo cautioned.
MATEMATEMATE, rumbled his serpent impatiently as Alejo took in this delectable woman with the tousled blonde hair, currently dressed … in a chicken suit?
