Spending time with Bree, it’s easy to see what Bennett and Arthur like about her. Though I’ve gotten to know her at a difficult time, she’s still resilient and independent. But she’s also humble, considerate, and thoughtful, always worrying about others instead of herself. Her personality is like all the parts I’m missing, the unfinished pieces of me where I didn’t develop enough. It makes me aware of my own shortcomings, and fills me with a desire to be what she needs.
The only resentment I hold? That Arthur and Bennett got to have this, to build this, without me. That they thought I would disagree with them, maybe punish them for what they wanted, so they grew close with Bree and gave me no chance to be a part of it.
Now I’m left behind.
Not that it isn’t my own fault, too. I’ve spent too many years being bitter about Marilee, too many years denying Bennett the chance to have a woman in our herd when he had expressed wanting it.
I suppose we are all guilty, but now we have the opportunity to grow and redeem ourselves. If it were New Year’s, my resolution would be to get better, to become what I need to become to heal my family. And perhaps invite someone new into it.
I will need to learn more about her, and that’s what I plan to do next. Do-over dinner.
After getting home early from work, I head with Arthur to the store to shop for what I need.
“Risotto?” he asks, skeptical. “You think you can pull that off?”
“Sure, I’ve done it before.” It takes a lot of time and attention, but I know what to do.
We pick out all the ingredients together, and it’s good to spend time with Arthur where I don’t sense the resentment radiating off him. He’s been in a much better mood since we started spending time with Bree, and it’s good to see this side of him again.
It’s a strange thought, that Arthur would need her, too. That he would fall for her and want her, too. Bennett—I understand. He missed a woman’s touch, he’d said. He wanted to go looking, but I shut him down. So Bennett watching Bree’s cam all this time? Not a surprise, but it hurts to know he felt he had to keep it secret from me.
Arthur, though. That the satyr who’s never touched a woman before our visit at DreamTogether would fall so hard for Bree… I think there’s something special about her.
Arthur and I start preparing the food the moment we get home. Bennett arrives when we’ve got things going, and he enters the house sniffing the air.
“Smells great,” he says as he trots into the kitchen. I haven’t seen him with this much energy in a while. He kisses Arthur’s cheek, then mine, and I like having this version of Bennett back, too.
Then Bree’s car pulls up as I start the risotto. She knocks on the door and Bennett and Arthur both rush to answer it like eager puppies. When she comes in, Arthur hugs her first, then Bennett. I’m not sure what to do, so I wave from my spot at the stovetop. Bree pauses next to me to sniff the cooking wine and shallots, and her hand lands on my shoulder.
“Wow. Looks great.”
My tail lifts at the praise.
“Anything I can do to help?” she asks.
“Sit down and have some soda water,” I say. “Or juice, or tea?”
“You seemed pretty confident about the soda water,” she says, sitting at the table. “Honestly, do you have something stiffer? If I’m going to not be pregnant, I might as well enjoy it.”
I can’t help a laugh at how blunt she is. “Sure. Arthur, do you want to open that white wine in the fridge?”
Saluting, Arthur grabs the wine, opens it, and pours each of us a glass while I stir the risotto.
Even though the rut is over, I can’t help noticing Bree’s scent wafting around our house. It reminds me of the breeding bench, which reminds me of being inside her, which makes me sport a chubby under my jeans as I turn more toward the stove while I stir.
“What did you do with your day, Bree?” I ask, eager to prove I can be personable.
She sips her wine, then grins down at it like it’s just what she needed. “I had a lot of admin to do. Using this opportunity to catch up on everything while I don’t feel very sexy.”
That must be a tough thing in her profession, to always be able to turn it “on” in the metaphorical and literal sense.
“How long have you been doing this kind of work?” I ask, sipping my own wine.
Bree’s green eyes rise to mine, and I find them entrancing. They are bright, full of sparkle, and I love how the apples of her cheeks are always a bit pink under her freckles.
“A few years. Three, maybe? I only quit my day job two years ago, though. Went full time.”
“You’re very entrepreneurial, to start your own business and survive on it.”
