“Hmm,” Iris, heart light with love, started to tease, “how about synchronized seahorses in fishbowls? They could perform slow-motion water ballets!”
Selene—seeing Arden’s disgust—piled on. “Oh, how about prophetic goldfish? They could interrupt bits of conversation to offer relationship advice.”
“Oh, we don’t need goldfish for that,” Willow said, bringing a tray of snacks over to the table. “I have a ficus that we could propagate that could do that without all the water.”
“Oh, or miniature shipwreck dioramas,” Selene suggested.
“Yes, because nothing says ‘romance’ like death and destruction,” Arden, tugging at his collar, grumbled.
“How about a pair of doves?” Selene said.
“Doves?” Arden asked, brows pinching. “How would you keep them on the tables?”
“Well, they’d be taxidermied, of course.”
“Right. Dead birds. That’s what everyone wants to look at while they’re eating.”
“It’s thesymbolism.”
“Death is not the symbolism of a long and happy marriage.”
“Fine. Glass snow globes. But with sand instead of snow.”
“That’s … not horrible.”
“And inside each one is a tiny scroll,” Selene said, making Iris’s lips twitch.
“With a love poem on them?” Arden asked, hopeful.
“No. With a little prenuptial agreement.”
“You’re hopeless,” Arden said, laughing.
“Better hopeless than hopelessly cliché.” She leaned over his chair, flipping through his binder. “Candles? Potted plants? Yawn. I mean, you could just drop down a few really pretty copies of classic romance novels and call it a day.”
Arden’s head tilted, and his eyes went warm. “That might actually be charming. And I suppose you have someone in mind to make the suggestions for the books?”
“Well,” Selene said, trying to act nonchalant about the topic. “I mean, I do own a bookstore.”
“Right,” Arden said, wrapping an arm around her waist and dragging her down onto the chair next to him. “Purely professional recommendations. Has nothing at all to do with your secret stash of dark prince smut.”
“I do not … what is this?” Selene asked, pulling a shiny book out from under Arden’s binder.
“Don’t look at me,” Arden said as Selene looked at the comic book.
“I’m a cozy mystery kind of girl,” Willow said when gazes slid in her direction.
“It’s Finn’s,” Iris said, reaching for it. She couldn’t stop the smile that teased her lips as she took the glossy book and looked at the muscled group of men and women on the cover.
“I did not have him pegged as a comic book guy.”
“Henry did his best to hide this side of him,” Iris said. “The comic books and his sci-fi movies.”
They’d been watching those movies every night. Admittedly, Iris spent most of the run time watching Finn watch the movie, loving how his face lit up, how his words tumbled together when he was trying to explain some part of the plot to her. But she enjoyed every moment of it.
“Why?” Selene asked. “This interest would get him the nerd vote.”
“It makes him so much more real,” Willow agreed, taking the comic book. “My nephew eats these things up. I got him a digital comic book subscription for his last birthday.”
