CHAPTER 63
DAKOTA
I’m not out for long, I think. I wake up a short time later with my head throbbing, my neck throbbing, and I’m still draped over Murr’s passed-out form.
He’s still out cold. This time, when I get to my feet, I move slowly and while my brain feels a little woozy, I’m more or less fine.
Mortified, but fine. I hastily find my shirt and tug it back over my head (after shoving my boobs back into my sports bra) and re-button my jeans.
There’s nothing I can do about the big wet stain on the thigh of my jeans or the bite on my neck, but hopefully the rest of me isn’t too disheveled.
Leaning over Murr, I tap his cheek. “Wake up.”
No response.
Is this because of the wife bite? Or is he the type to faint when he comes? I mean, I’ve never heard of that, but anything is possible. I’m dealing with a dragon, and I’m not going to hold it against him. I tap his face for a full minute, trying to rouse him. Doesn’t work.
Okay then, I need a plan B. He can’t just lie out here, sprawled on the pavement with his junk out.
I fold his kilt into a square and place it over his genitals.
Then I cross my arms and stare down at him, because that doesn’t seem like enough.
I can’t leave him here. Grabbing both of his hands, I try to lift him up, but it’s like lifting the world’s largest bag of concrete. There’s no way I’m moving him.
Maybe he can just lie there after all. I sit down next to him on the broken asphalt, petting his arm.
Did…did he mean what he said when he told me he wanted me to be his wife?
It feels like we’re skipping a few steps of the courtship phases.
We’re going straight from kissing and cuddling to…
forever. Which is fine, really. It’s just a big leap.
I don’t want him to regret that leap or feel like he’s made a hasty decision.
Something wet splats on my face. A moment later, big, fat drops of rain pour down from the skies, each one feeling like it has a grudge against me. Yikes. I jump to my feet and try to rouse Murr again. “Come on! You can’t sleep through a storm. You’ll drown like a turkey!”
He’s still out. How long is this supposed to last, exactly?
I move to his arms and tug on them again, frantically, fervently hoping that he’s somehow become two hundred pounds lighter in the last few minutes. No dice. I keep trying, because I refuse to be helpless. I just need the right leverage—
“Mom? Are you still out here?”
Shit. I stand in the rain like a guilty weirdo as my teenage daughter arrives, pulling the hood of her jacket over her head. She sprints across the wet parking lot towards us, then skids to a halt at the sight of Murr prone and naked on the ground. “What happened?”
“Um.” What do I tell my daughter? She’s too old for ‘adult stuff’ to work as an answer. “He passed out and I can’t wake him up.”
“He passed out?” Rabbit’s voice raises an octave, and she moves to his side, kneeling. She checks his pulse. “What happened? What were you guys doing?”
“Nothing,” I say defensively.
She eyes him and then turns her face up, giving me a suspicious look. “Why is he naked if you weren’t doing anything?”
“It doesn’t matter,” I blurt out, moving to Murr’s head. “Grab one of his arms and help me pull him inside.”
“We can’t just drag him across the concrete! He’ll get all torn up!”
“Then get a blanket and we’ll roll him onto it and drag him inside.”
Twenty minutes later, we’ve dragged my dragon husband, face down, under an awning. His golden butt stares up at us almost as accusingly as my daughter’s face. Rabbit waits for me to speak, and when I don’t, she puts her hands on her hips. “So.”
“Should we turn him over?” I ask, bending over him and fussing with his hair. It’s fluffy when it’s dry and windblown. Wet hair is so much longer and drapes all over his face, which has to bother him on some level, right?
“Absolutely not, and this view is bad enough,” Rabbit says. “Did you kill him, Mom?”
“What? No!” I jerk back to my full height. “Why would you think that?”
“Because you’ve got a big nasty bite on your neck? Do we need to hide the body? Because I know Aggie will be down.” My daughter leans in conspiratorially. “Dottie might need a bit more convincing.”
I put my hand over the incriminating bite. “It’s not like that.”
“Then what is it?”
Oh god. Not the conversation I wanted to have with my daughter right now. I manage a weak smile. “When a man and woman love each other very, very much—”
“Nope!” Her hands go up in the air. “I’ve heard enough!”
Rabbit turns and walks inside.