1. Milo #2
This was Marigold’s year off since becoming the subject of Milo’s first successful experiment at the apothecary.
The goal had been to infuse spider silk into goat’s milk, and the results had exceeded even Milo’s expectations, providing him with enough renewable magical resources to create nearly a dozen new recipes.
But after Marigold had dutifully supplied him with webs for the better part of a year, Milo decided she’d more than earned some time off.
Instead, he’d hired three goats belonging to his neighbor, Mrs. Grimwood, who now supplied him with regular batches of spider silk.
“Don’t make me regret field trip day,” Milo said to the trotting horned creature at his side. Marigold pressed herself against his leg with a pitiful little bleat. Milo sighed and gave in, scratching his daughter behind the ears.
“…You’re all impossible.”
They rounded the corner onto Pumpkin Hollow’s famous Main Street, where the smell of cinnamon rolls and fresh bread drifted on the breeze from the Wicked Whisk bakery, which had already attracted a crowd.
The line stretched out the front door, with excited onlookers pointing at the enchanted sugar-moths that fluttered and dusted everyone with powdered sugar as they passed, earning a chorus of oohs and aahs from several tourists.
“Pembrooke!” Rowen called before Milo could even see him. A hand waved from above the heads of the crowd. “C’mon, make way for my friend here. He’s the mind behind my color-changing strudels.”
That earned Milo a few interested looks as he shyly ducked his head through the parted crowd.
“There he is—man of my heart,” Rowen, a Kitchen Witch, said in that comfortable, borderline flirtatious way of his. He brushed aside a lock of his bright magenta hair. “You have the goods?”
“When have I ever failed a delivery?” Milo asked, trying to return the same confident energy.
These days, his crippling social anxiety was…
better. Not gone. Probably never gone. But better.
And having the sexy man beside him standing sentinel wherever he went certainly helped.
His change showed in his interactions with his fellow Pumpkin Hollow residents.
Residents that he could now, shyly, call his friends.
“Fuck, I forgot to tell you before this morning, but you didn’t happen to bring extra Daydr—”
“Daydream powder? Yeah, I got it. Knew you’d need more than what you ordered.”
Rowen’s shoulders relaxed. “You’re a doll, I could kiss you right now.”
“Try it,” Grievance growled.
“Just a joke, man,” Rowen said with a wink that had Grievance immediately stiffening. “Set the crates over there, big guy. I’ll haul them to the back in a minute.”
The Kitchen Witch flicked his wrist, sending a floating bowl and whisk gliding gracefully onto the counter. Rowen inspected the bright blue frosting inside.
“Yeah, that’s separating nicely. Couple more minutes.”
Then he snapped his fingers, and the whisk immediately sprang back to life, whipping the mixture into a perfect swirl.
“Showboat,” Grievance grumbled under his breath as he set the boxes down.
“Be nice,” Milo hissed, but was half-smiling. Grievance never took to Rowen’s loud personality.
Milo checked the order form, making sure he’d actually remembered everything. The three wooden crates were packed to the brim with giggle tonics, enchanted honey, moonlace flour, cinnamon bark, and enough rainbow jinx syrup to keep Rowen’s bakery stocked through Pumpkin Festival.
“It’s all there,” Milo said, handing Rowen the order form. “Just remember—you ordered enough jinx syrup to turn half the town’s hair every color of the rainbow.”
“That’s what I like to see,” Rowen said, scanning the list.
Business had become something of a partnership over the past year. Rowen baked. Milo brewed. Between the two of them, half the town insisted they were solely responsible for surviving flu season with Rowen’s cough syrup candies and Milo’s fever reducers.
Rowen looked to the list, then to the crates. “You brought it all in one trip? This has got to weigh a metric fuck-ton,” he said, eyeing the stack.
“Maybe for you,” Grievance said shortly. “I had no issue.”
Milo didn’t miss the way he crossed his arms, his sleeveless vest doing everything to show off those mouthwatering biceps.
Rowen looked at Grievance, and Milo wasn’t sure if there was some sort of alpha moment happening, but after a second, the tension dissipated, and Rowen nodded.
“I respect that.” Then he returned his attention to Milo. “You have your eye-candy muscle. And I have mine— hey, babe! You mind taking these to the back for me while I ring up the customers?” Rowen called behind him to the kitchen.
What Milo didn’t expect when Rowen called for his eye-candy muscle was the most petite blonde woman to dance from the back, wearing a thirties-inspired bubblegum-pink polka-dot dress, her bright blonde hair curled in a perfect bob.
“You got it, sweetie!” she said, reaching for the crates.
“Perhaps I should take them,” Grievance began, leaning over to help, but before he could, she seized the stack with inhuman speed, carrying them as easily as she would a purse.
“I’ve got it, hot-stuff.” Then she winked, flashing a pair of sharp fangs before disappearing into the kitchen. Milo got the distinct impression that she could probably throw a refrigerator. With one hand.
When Sadie was out of sight, Rowen clutched at his chest, falling back against the counter in an exaggerated swoon. “Ah. I’m in love. Vampires are so hot.” His eyes fell just behind them. “Did you bring a goat into my bakery?”
“It’s field-trip day,” Milo said. “She wanted to show off her new sweater.”
“Well, it’s adorable. Also, get out before she eats my tablecloths,” Rowen said, and Milo quickly redirected Marigold’s attention from the checkered tablecloth currently being used by two tourists enjoying their coffee.
“Yeah, that’s probably for the best,” Milo said, taking the pouch of coins from Rowen. “Pleasure doing business,” he said, trying for that charisma Rowen channeled so easily.
“Same to you, Brooke. You take care and—” Rowen turned his attention to Grievance, who hadn’t stopped glaring the entire time. “You keep on being your happy, sunshine self, alright, big guy?”
Grievance bristled, lip pulling back in a snarl. “The fuck is that supposed to mean—”
“We’re leaving. Bye, Rowen!” Milo said, dragging Grievance with one hand and pulling Marigold’s leash with another.
Milo hurried his problematic little family down the street, and didn’t slow until they were well beyond the bakery, ducking into a narrow alcove between two crooked storefronts.
Bundles of dried cornstalks leaned against the walls beside pots overflowing with golden and burgundy chrysanthemums, while stacked pumpkins waited to be arranged for the festival. It was just far enough from the main road to escape the steady stream of shoppers.
“Lanterns,” he groaned. “I can’t take you anywhere.”
“You better be talking to the goat,” Grievance hissed, still pissy.
“Babe, I love you, but you gotta cool it with Rowen. He’s with that pretty vampire lady.”
“Still don’t like the way he smiles at my mate. It’s rude.”
At the sound of that, some of Milo’s irritation melted away. He took Grievance’s hand until his fiery Chimera looked at him, those flecks of peridot sparkling in a pool of caramel brown.
“You should know by now, you have nothing to worry about.”
Grievance’s shoulders eased. “I know.” He squeezed Milo’s hand. “Maybe I enjoy worrying.”
“I think you enjoy pouting.”
Grievance frowned. “I do not pout.”
“You absolutely pout. You’re pouting right now!” Milo said, pointing at the hard set of Grievance’s mouth.
“I do not pout. I brood. Much sexier.”
Milo laughed, shaking his head. “Well, lucky for you, I happen to like brooding Chimeras.”
“Oh?” Grievance asked, that crooked smile returning to his face. Others might have found the scar pulling at the right side of his mouth disfiguring, but Milo adored it. It gave every smile a lopsided warmth that somehow made the handsome Chimera even more unfairly attractive.
“Hmm…” he mused, closing the distance between them. “And how many brooding Chimeras do you know?”
“A few,” Milo teased. “But lucky for you, I happen to be completely obsessed with this one.”
His fingertips brushed lightly along the scar, lingering against warm skin.
Grievance’s grin softened, gaining that gentle affection he reserved just for Milo. A few sparks of lime green danced just under the collar of his vest, the way the Chimera’s magic always did when bonding with his Veya. His family.
“Mmm, how obsessed are you?” he purred.
“Pretty fucking obsessed,” Milo breathed, resting a hand on Grievance’s stubbled jaw.
“Can I ask a favor?”
Milo blinked, surprised. “Of course.”
“I want you to spell out exactly how obsessed you are with me—when I have my tongue in your ass tonight.”
“Grievance!” Milo said, alarmed, head swiveling to see who was close enough to hear.
“We’re in public!” Milo hissed. A massive hand slid to the small of his back, pulling Milo’s body flush against his.
Milo swallowed, his breath growing heavy and his cock suddenly very interested in the conversation.
“Grievance…” Milo whispered now, his body going hot all at once.
He looked over. The dried cornstalks weren’t much of a cover. They’d have to be really careful unless they wanted to give these tourists a show they’d never forget—
Lanterns, what is wrong with me?
Did he really just consider getting busy—here!? Now!?
Fuck. Maybe this autumn weather really does mess with my brain chemistry.
He wasn’t usually this easy. Usually.
“How about an appetizer before my meal?” Grievance growled right into the crook of Milo’s neck and fuck. Now Milo’s dick was at full attention, and yep.
He was considering it.
“PIP IS STILL HERE!” A voice called from beneath the hat.
Grievance let out a heated sigh, kissing Milo on the neck, sending a trail of goosebumps erupting all the way to his ankle.
“Perhaps later.”