“No,” Ember says slowly, “he didn’t.”
“He’s never really known how to… I don’t know… talk to me, I guess. Like my being an omega was this big obstacle to overcome, instead of it just being a piece of who I am. I guess I thought if he found out I was with someone and didn’t tell him, then he would be mad? Maybe? Or at least upset he wasn’t asked for permission to mate me as is tradition.” I shrug, swallowing hard as long-buried emotions rise to the surface. “I shouldn’t care so much when I’ve always hated how strict my father was about tradition, but I wish he would show mesomething. You know?”
“Do you think maybe he didn’t want to show a divided family in front of strangers?”
“Maybe.”
Ember brushes at my cheek, clearing away a stray tear that had fallen without me realizing.
“Think of it this way,” Ember says, his voice soothing and steady, “they’re about to travel across the country to meet your mate’s parents. However you think they may feel about you, one thing is clear. They care. They care enough to get on a plane andtravel several hours to meet a family they didn’t know existed until five minutes ago. That has to count for something.”
I nod absentmindedly, still stuck in my head.
“Come on,” he says, grabbing my hand and pulling me up from the couch. “Let’s shower and fuck until you can’t think anymore or die from exhaustion. Whichever comes first.”
I fake a groan and throw my head back dramatically.
“Fiiiine, but you’re doing all the work this time.”
“I’d do anything for you, Habibi.” He grins and kisses me gently before racing me up the stairs.
Chapter Twenty
Sunshine
Meeting both sets of parents at the funeral home was rejected immediately by me because of the whole protest thing. I don’t want to spring Chad on Mom and Dad if they don’t already know. Ember’s home is too small for so many people. So, we decided to meet at a small Cajun restaurant right off the interstate in some tiny town no one has ever heard of.
The sign outside read:
The building looked like it had been assembled from leftover lumber, a prayer, and a sunken boat to put it kindly. I stand in the parking lot staring at the decrepit building, wondering how the hell we ended up here.
“Are we sure this place is safe to eat?” I ask, genuinely worried about the cleanliness of a place that has a sign that says you can feed a gator before you eat it.
Ember steps out of the car beside me, looking absolutely delighted. “You need to learn to live a little, Habibi. One of the great pleasures in life is trying new and interesting foods. And look,” he says, pointing, “it has neon crawfish!”
“That didn’t answer my question,” I grumble, “this place looks haunted.”
The neon crawfish flicker like they are actively dying, the pattern of flashing lights not making any sense.
“Habibi. You run a funeral home.”
“Yeah, and it doesn’t look nearly as haunted as this place,” I mutter.
He chuckles under his breath and holds the door open for me. Inside, the restaurant is loud, warm, and smells amazing. Zydeco music plays loudly over the speakers, the reedy sounds of the accordion adding to the amazing ambiance.
The hostess looks up from her phone and smacks her gum loudly.
“Two?” she asks in an annoyed tone.
“Actually, we have four more coming. So six,” I say, smiling to hopefully get her on my side so I can talk her into putting us next to a loud table so that maybe we will all get overstimulated and head home early. I think my plan has merit and I’m proud of it.
“Y’all part of the party with the parents?” she asks, squinting at us like she’s trying to solve a particularly hard math problem.
“…Yes?” I answer uncertainly.
“Back room. They’re already here,” she says, pointing a limp finger in the general direction of where our parents must be.
My stomach twists uncomfortably, and Ember squeezes my shoulder reassuringly. “Stop shaking,” he says under his breath, “everything is going to be fine.”
