“I need one,” quiet Calliope said suddenly.
“What’s the magic word, Calliope Irene?” her mother said suddenly.
“I need one, please,” Calliope tried again.
When Kat paused what she was doing and just stared at her child, Calliope let out a long sigh, tiny lips pursing, but only momentarily. Face scrunching in thought, she eventually murmured, “May I have a hair flower please, Ms Abster?” Her gaze darted from her mother to me.
“Yes, you may,” I replied as I retrieved one and handed it to her outstretched hand.
“Thank you,” she said quickly, with a peek of a glance at her mother. Instead of putting it in her own hair, she leaned into Gren to place it in his.
Catching sight of my Man of the Marsh then, I found him staring at me, just staring, like he only had eyes for me.
“What?” I mumbled self-consciously.
“Nothing,” he said quickly, but the girls began to giggle.
“He thinks you look pretty. Uncle Green Bean likes you,” Calliope said with a giggle.
Her sisters began to giggle with her, like this was the funniest thing ever.
“I like love,” Giles said seriously, scowling at the shepups like he found their reaction ridiculous. “Daddy loves Mommy, like Thor and Jane.”
Penelope moved to the back of the couch to stare down at her young son. “What has Daddy been watching with you two?” she asked, blinking, owl eyed.
“Human super heroes,” Jules replied simply.
“With love,” Giles added, like that was a requirement.
“Daddy’s eye gets blinky with the love parts,” Jules went on.
“He gets stuff in his eye,” Giles finished with a nod.
“Does he now?” Gren’s smile was mischievous, like he was loving this.
“I’m sure it’s just allergies,” I said quickly, in my long time friend’s defense.
It’s not allergies,his wife mouthed with a huge grin.
“That’s actually really sweet,” I called out softly as the women and Gren chuckled and then the ladies all shared some sensitive thing their mates did that their males probably never expected their females to repeat. Unable to picture myself spilling Gren’s secrets, no matter how not secret and sweet they may be, I began to fidget uncomfortably. Perhaps their males didn’t care if they talked of things like this, but I wasn’t sure how I’d feel if Gren teased of me out of my presence like this. I was more private than that.
As things wound down and the ladies slowly made their excuses and made to leave, telling Gren how glad they were again that things were working out for him, I was almost nervous to be alone with my mate once more.
“She was right, you know.” Closing the door, his glasses back on, hair sticking up at funny angles from where the hair clips had once been.
“Who’s right about what?” I murmured offhandedly, reaching up absently to smooth his hair out like that might help. Nope. His mop was stuck like that until he showered.
“About you, being pretty.” He was so close, his scent strong. I wanted to roll in that natural woodsy yet slightly citrusy, pine thick scent.
“I’m not that pretty.” My gaze met his briefly to dart away, fixing on his shoulder.
A shiver overtook me as his hand lifted, smoothing down the side of my face, and he ran a finger under my chin. “You’re pretty to me,” he murmured, right before he kissed me.
This wasn’t rushed, that need to get naked fueled frenzy of my office. This was heated but gentle, two lovers learning one another. His hand cupped the back of my head, smoothing down my hair to settle at my nape. “What does orange and pink mean?” he asked as he came up for air.
“Why do you have a year’s worth of alphabet pasta in your cupboards if you don’t eat it?” I blurted, blushing as I evaded his question.
Licking his lips, he smiled sheepishly. “Impulse buy. I saw them and they made me think of you. I’ll never look at a can and not think of you or what a monumental moron I was.”
