14. Oz
Oz
The morning after the survey trip, I drop into a seat at his kitchen table, leaning onto my forearms while Wilder scarfs an omelet.
“So…the Sweetheart Dance is tonight, as you might remember from my vision board.”
Wilder stops chewing long enough to stare at me with that same suspicious look he often wears. “I remember it.”
“Good,” I say brightly. “Before I got mated and all, I signed up to be auctioned off for a date. The proceeds go toward buying medical supplies for the mustang herd and any other animals that need help. My bestie Bluebell is a black witch, so she can heal animals, but we like to do regular dewormer and stuff like that. It’s a good cause. ”
He takes another bite. “Sounds like it.”
“It’s the most romantic event of the year,” I say, raising my brows.
“So we’ve really got to do it up, ya know?
There are games and snacks and ice skating in the gulch pond.
The auctioning is at the end.” When Wilder says nothing, I waggle my brows at him.
“It’s a lotta monstering which I’ve come to realize isn’t your happy place. ”
He swallows and wipes his mouth with a napkin. “I like monsters just fine.”
I fall silent, just smiling, and he stares back at me.
After a moment, he chuckles. “Okay you’re right.
I’m more of a quiet life on the ranch kinda male, but I do enjoy the odd event.
I promise I’ll behave.” He grumbles a little bit.
“Anyhow, after I quit the circuit, I just didn’t spend as much time on the social scene. I miss a little bit of peopling.”
I snatch his fork and grab a bite of his omelet, shoving it in my mouth. “I…mmph…think the point is for you not to behave. So just…act like you like me.”
He grabs the fork back. “I like you just fine, Oz, for a male who let me grab his ass and dry hump him while I was half asleep.” He lets out a displeased groan.
“I’m still sorry about that; it’s not my way to do something a partner hasn’t consented to.
” His frown grows deeper. “I mean consented for real.”
Heat flares across my cheeks, and I lift a brow. “No idea what you’re talking about.”
He leans forward. “And yet I’m still apologizing. Plus, I’m pretty sure you were awake for a bit, so you had to deal.”
“Was not,” I lie, but I rise and turn for the door to grab my coat. “Anyways, I’m headed to work. I’ve got to do inventory at Whiskey Business, but I’ll catch up with you later, alright?”
“Alright,” he says quietly, staring at me in that same intense way he looked at me the day we met. When he looks at me like that, it’s like he can see through to every uncomfortable place inside me, like he can see all of me. I shrug my shoulders at the uncomfortableness of that.
After pulling my coat on, I button it and grab my bag. Ginger appears from the direction of the bedroom and waits for me to put her coat and booties on.
As she steps into the booties, I wait for Wilder to say something about how I coddle her. But he doesn’t, just watches silently as I buckle her in. She licks my face with a thankful little snort.
When I risk a glance at Wilder, he’s grinning as he spears the fork into the omelet.
“What?” I slap a hand to my hip.
“Didn’t say a word.” He wears a big grin. “See you both later…oh, wait,” he says as I turn toward the door.
My mouth drops open when I look back to find him down on a knee, messing around with one of her straps.
He looks up with a laugh when I make a surprised sound. “Couldn’t have that booty falling off your very dangerous pit hell.”
Men being cute with animals is a panty dropper for me, and I cannot immediately fall in love, so I nod and thank him, then blow him a kiss as we head out the door.
It’s easy to fake it, knowing he doesn’t take anything I do seriously.
On the way from his cottage into downtown, Ginger and I pass the Keeper’s mansion, and Lemon meets us at the gate with a bright smile.
“Fancy seeing you two gorgeous things out this early. Surely you’re not headed to Whiskey Business at this hour?”
I stop and give her a quick hug. She leans in and wraps both arms around me, sniffing at my chest.
When I pull back, I chuckle. “What are you doing, Lem?”
She looks up with a mischievous grin. “You smell different, Ozifer. Sexier or something.”
I roar with laughter. “Or like mule? Oh yeah, I bet that’s on account of all the fake dating I’m doing.
It’s the worst sort of edging because we have to pretend to be lovey-dovey, but it’s not real, and there’s no delicious hookup at the end.
I’m quite certain I’m simply overdue for about forty skincare treatments I missed out on while riding. ”
She steps away. “I guess the twenty grand is your hookup, although if my nose is correct, you actually like him.”
I scoff. “Do not. It’s all fake, madam. Although,” I lean in close to her ear, “he dry-humped me in the tent when we were riding his property. He was asleep and didn’t know what he was doing.
And let me tell you that thing between his thighs?
Oh my gods, I was salivating. I’d pay at least twenty dollars to accidentally see it sometime. ”
She slaps my shoulder playfully. “Oh yeah, you like him. I’m calling it now.”
I look off into the distance as I shake my head. “Naw, I don’t. But I’m coming to understand him, that’s for sure.” Which is true, but only a partial truth.
I’ll never tell anyone how much I like him, because Wilder Lane—and this romance—are a means to an end. But if that’s the case, why doesn’t thinking that feel quite right? Why does it leave a bitter, sour taste in my mouth?
There’s a real chance we could be friends, at least, I think that’s why.
Right?
* * *
Later on, Bluebell hands me a mug of steaming hot chocolate as we observe the gulch pond, already full of monsters ice skating across its frozen surface. “Is Wilder meeting us here, or what’s up?”
I blow on the piping hot drink, eyeing her over the edge of the mug. “Pretty sure he is. I left early, so I haven’t talked to him since—”
“Oz, there you are.” Saint appears at my right, holding a glass of hot spiked cider. He looks at Bluebell and Lemon. “And who might these beauties be?”
I resist the urge to roll my eyes at how he immediately reduces them to their looks. They are gorgeous, but when he says it like that, it’s just creepy. What the hells did I ever see in him? Wilder would never say something like that about the girls. At my feet, Ginger lets out a soft growl.
When Saint reaches out a hand and pats the top of her head, she snaps at him, hackles raised as her lips curl back into a vicious expression. Admittedly it’s a bit hard to take her too seriously in her pink conversation heart down jacket and snow boots.
“You were saying?” I shoot Saint a look that screams for him to stop touching my damn dog.
Bluebell drops to a knee and hugs the pit hell to her chest, planting a series of chaotic kisses all over the dog’s face and ears, completely ignoring Saint’s question.
My girl, what a badass.
“Lemon Zayle,” Lemon croons, holding her hand out. “We’ve met many times in Rainbow.”
“Gods, that’s right!” Saint says with a laugh, shaking her hand. “Lemon Denton, right? House Denton? Your family’s potions shop is legendary, of course.”
Lemon keeps the bright smile. “It’s Zayle now. I don’t work for my family’s shop anymore. I work for Glimmer up at the end of Main Street.”
Saint’s smile falls. “Oh, that’s unfortunate.”
“It’s not,” Lemon corrects. “It’s exactly where I want to be.” She looks at me. “Furyon just arrived to get the auction stuff finalized. I’m gonna go help him, but don’t forget to be on stage at about eight p.m., alright?”
I offer her a quick salute. “Will do, bestie.”
Bluebell rises, and Saint’s attention turns to her. She doesn’t bother to answer his question though. Instead, she smiles at me. “Your honey bun just arrived, Oz, so I’m gonna leave you to greet him, but I’ll catch you later, alright?”
Smiling, I turn and look around. When I see Wilder making his way through the check-in tent, I grin and flash Saint a look. “Gotta go…”
He says nothing as I jog toward the check-in tent situated on the northeast corner of the gulch’s small pond. When I reach his side, I sling both arms around him and hug him tight.
Wilder looks surprised, but quickly schools his expression into a sexy smile. “Hey, baby,” he murmurs, bending down to kiss the top of my head.
My horns flex and straighten at the obvious, easy affection. It might be fake, but it’s still better than anything Saint ever did.
Wilder reaches for my hand, and I slip my fingers through his, angling them since he’s got five, and I only have three. Shuffling my wings with pleasure, I watch him as we walk onto the frozen, rocky beach.
“This is my first Sweetheart Dance,” Wilder says with a sexy little smile. “Wanna tell me all about it? Although I guess it’s your first one too.”
I snuggle up against him as we walk the edge of the beach.
“Yeah, but Lemon and Bluebell did a little bitty coup to take over the organizing committee from the gals who own the Gulch Gossip. They’re nice enough, but damn they’re nosy, and they take forever to make decisions.
So now it’s the three of us, and we’ve been planning for a month.
Plus, the Gulch Gossip has been doing articles on what to expect.
Taking a few weeks off from spreading rumors, I guess. ”
He rolls his eyes. “Gods, I hadn’t even noticed there’s a gossip column.”
“We’ll be in it soon enough, I imagine,” I mutter.
Waving around, I look back up at him, wrapping my tail around my thigh to resist wrapping it around him.
“So, this part of the gulch is wide enough to form a small pond. It freezes all winter, and the local mustang herd retreats to other parts because they obviously need access to running water. Hence the decorations. For the next couple hours, we eat, drink, and ice skate. The auction begins at eight fifteen, and then we can choose to do the date right away or schedule it for another time.”
He points to my hot cocoa. “Let’s get another of those and some food. Do you want to ice skate? Or hang out with Bluebell and Lemon?”
I shake my head as I drag him toward the beverage cart. It’s a darling little thing made out of reclaimed wood with a red-and-white awning over the top. A tall minotaur female works the stand, crafting hot cocoas, spiked ciders and more. Vintage light bulbs frame a wooden menu with all the options.
Wilder nips at his lower lip as his green eyes scan the menu. After a quiet minute, he smiles over at the female. “Spiked cider, please.” He winks at me. “Probably not as good as mine, but I’d better check.”
“Coming right up!” She disappears behind the cart, and he smiles down at me.
“When you’re done with that, I wanna ice skate.” I take a sip of my hot cocoa, fairly certain he’ll deny me. I’m surprised when he nods, taking the spiked cider from the minotaur when she offers it.
“I remember that from the vision board.” He takes a sip of the cider and lets out a happy little groan that immediately reminds me of the noises he made in the tent.
My mind flashes to his hungry mouth all over my neck and shoulder, and my cock hardens and throbs against my thigh. Gods, if he’d kept going…
“You okay?” Wilder scans my face with a frown. “You look unhappy all of a sudden.”
I shake my head. “Not at all. Let’s go find Bluebell and Hadrian; you’ll like him. He’s actually really, really cool.”
Wilder follows me to where Bluebell and Hadrian are seated on a giant fallen log, slipping into ice skates. When we join them, they smile up at us. Bluebell jerks her thumb behind her.
“Skates are back there if you want to find a good size, although I’d recommend finishing those drinks first. Not that you’d be the first monsters to ever spill on the pond, but…
that gets a little tricksy.” She smiles up at Wilder.
“Can’t imagine you’ve done this before, what with Louisiana being so hot. ”
“First time for everything,” he says with a chuckle.
“You’ve met Bluebell, of course,” I chirp, laying a hand on his broad, warm chest. I resist the urge to curl my fingers into that skin, so much hotter than mine. “But this is her mate. Hadrian.”
“I’ve watched the Punishers play,” Wilder says with a brilliant smile as he reaches for Hadrian’s hand. They shake, and for a moment, I feel like I’m actually introducing my boyfriend to my best friends. It feels really nice.
Just as quickly, I remind myself this is not real.
Even if a teensy part of me kinda wishes it were.
“We watched you ride until you got injured,” Hadrian says with a broad smile. “I hear you’re taking over the Sandovals’ line of bulls, is that right?”
Wilder lights up. “Yeah, assuming the deal goes off without a hitch. It’s been a long time comin’.”
Hadrian grins. “You know, I’ve got a couple books in my library on the Sandovals’ breeding program. Part of a book lot I bought at the Auction House when they cleaned out a room to make an office. Want to come by and check them out sometime?”
“That’d be stellar!” Wilder gushes with a huge smile. It lights up his face, and I just stare and stare. He’s in his element talking about the bulls, I can tell.
It’s nice to see him so excited about something, even if a small part of me wishes he was that lit up about me.