His nod is more of a rapid bob of his head that makes Biscuits bolt into the boxwoods. “All the time. I do love mating. Sometimes I mate five times a day.”
Perhaps I should be offended by his choice to withhold the truth. Yet, for some reason, his inability to be even the least bit convincing makes him even more endearing.
What’s the point in saying that he’s as transparent as the air between us?
His inexperience is obviously a sore spot for him, and I would never push him to talk about any subject that makes him uncomfortable.
Although, I must admit that I’m a little shocked he hasn’t taken a lover.
Maddox slides his hands down his thighs, refusing to meet my gaze. I fold my hands in my lap to keep from reaching for him. A man who “mates five times a day” would need no comfort.
“Very impressive,” I say instead. “Your woman is sure to be very pleased when it is her turn to mate with you.”
His shoulders slump as he blows out a breath. “I do hope so.”
If he’s as devoted to her as he seems, he won’t have a problem making her happy. Making her smile or laugh.
I hope she does the same for him. That he’ll be happy with her.
A strange burning sensation spreads through my stomach. “Did you have any other questions?” Preferably ones that don’t involve the act of mating.
“Just one more. You say that I should give her gifts. Do you mean a gift of sustenance?”
According to the books on such matters, offering an unmated Unseelie food is the same as asking them to court you. If they reciprocate with a gift of their own, then you’re officially courting or engaged or whatever term they use for being together.
Seelie customs are very different, but I imagine any woman would be excited by a heartfelt gift.
“Not food—at least not until you’re certain she’s going to accept your proposal. Remember what I said the other day about coming on too strong?”
“You said I must pretend to care less.”
That wasn’t exactly what I meant. “You shouldn’t care less; you should just guard your feelings a little better. Wearing your heart on your sleeve is a sure way to have it ripped off.”
“Ah, but I do not wear sleeves.” He holds out his arms and turns them for full effect, even though it’s blatantly obvious that there is no shirt covering him—and have they always been so toned? Even the backs of his arms have muscles.
Stop staring, you devil.
He asked about gifts for his Unseelie woman.
Explain the gifts.
“‘Heart on your sleeve’ is just an expression. But we’re getting off topic. Once you’re certain she returns your affections, you might give her something that lets her know you’re thinking of her when she’s not around. Something that she likes.” I added this one when Kerris mentioned the flowers Everett gave her when they were courting. “You don’t have to buy them, either. You could make them or find them.”
He folds the list in half and then folds it again, pinching the creases between his fingers to flatten them. “Does your Nolan bring you gifts?”
“Yes. All the time.”
I don’t know why I say it. The words just pop out, like baby chicks from their eggs. There’s still time to take it back, blame it on a slip of the tongue, but that would mean admitting that Nolan hasn’t given me a gift in years. Which is completely fine. I don’t need a man to spend his money on me, but every so often, it would’ve been nice to know he was thinking of me when I wasn’t standing right in front of him.
Once, Nolan and I were walking by a field, and I remarked on how beautiful the flowers were. He said he didn’t understand the point of giving anyone flowers because flowers die.
Do you know what else died?
Our love.
If it was even love at all.
I bite my tongue and swallow the truth because it’s easier than admitting how disappointing the person who was supposed to bemyperson really was.
