Chapter 33 #2
The place is almost presentable when I’m finished, minus the stacks of boxes leaning against one wall that Sophie hasn’t had the time to unpack; the number of boxes has declined dramatically since my arrival nearly a month ago, so she’s making progress.
As I pick up a pillow that Zosia must have knocked to the floor, I’m struck by a sudden inspiration and step outside.
A row of pink hydrangeas, orange daylilies, and yellow-and-white daisies gently sway on the other side of the driveway.
Extending the claws on my right hand, I begin slicing through the flower stems until I’ve formed a bouquet.
Returning inside, I search for a vase, trying to decide where Sophie would store one.
On my third attempt, I discover a cut crystal urn in the bottom cupboard next to the stove (another of Sophie’s hideaway spots), fill it with water, and place the flowers in the middle of the table.
Perfect; I’m nodding in satisfaction as a pair of slender arms reach around my waist, and the earthy scent of springtime—pulsing rainstorms and lush, green things—wafts up to my nose. “They’re beautiful, Teddy. You have a knack for floral arrangements.”
“Why do you sound so surprised?” I ask.
Sophie laughs. “Because you’re a werewolf! Jake and Rob are more likely to step on a flower bed than notice it.”
I spin her around until she’s facing me; her gray eyes sparkle with humor and perhaps a touch of mischief.
Her wavy brown locks are slightly damp, and she’s wearing a blue-and-yellow print sundress that shows off her luscious curves; my breath catches in my throat.
I’m leaning down for a kiss, drawn by those irresistible lips, when there’s a firm knock on the front door.
Sophie blows me a kiss and whispers, “Showtime, wolf-boy. Behave yourself.”
I smooth back my hair with a smirk and take some stabilizing breaths as I attempt to get my skyrocketing pulse back under control. “I’ll take a rain check on that kiss.”
She winks, pulls open the door, and a chorus of voices greets us; the entire Spellman-Brownlee clan has arrived at the same time.
While I expected Jake, as the werewolf alpha, mayor, and fire chief, to be prompt, I’m still surprised a group of faeries can manage to be on time for anything.
Miss Dragonfly would have missed her own funeral arrangements if the undertaker and I hadn’t coordinated everything.
As Nash steps through the door, I immediately check the length of his whiskers. Sweet moonglow, his thick brown beard is grazing his belt buckle!
Little Olivia dashes over to me and points at my bandaged arms. “How’d you get all those owies?”
“I had a little accident,” I tell her.
“Do they hurt?” Her green eyes are serious as she gazes up at me.
“They did hurt, but they’re better now.”
“That’s good.” She slips her small hand into mine. “I’ll hold your hand in case you’re scared.” An unexpected lump forms in my throat, and I have to swallow several times.
“Glad to see you’re up and around,” says Catbeam in her screechy voice; everyone else murmurs something similar.
My eyes meet Nash’s, and instead of the fierce scowl I’m expecting, he gives me a slow head nod. “I understand you were looking out for Sophie when you were injured.”
“Yes, sir.”
Nash reaches out his hand and shakes my free one. “Thank you.”
I nod, feeling suddenly embarrassed by all the attention. “I’d do anything for Sophie,” I say softly.
Nash arches his dark brows. “Let’s have dinner, and then we can have a chat.”
“It’s time to sit down,” urges Olivia, who tugs me over to the table and points out the chair next to her.
After everyone is served, Sophie sits down across from me and proceeds to play footsie with me under the table.
Is she trying to make me more nervous than I already am?
I refuse to play along. She finally gives up and starts toying with her food, shooting me little glances from beneath her long fringe of lashes.
Now I’m wondering if I’m expected to say something to Sophie’s assembled family. I tilt my head and mouth, “What?”
Sophie gives a side nod at the end of the table where Nash is sitting. “Beard!” she mouths back.
I raise my shoulders in a half-shrug. “So?”
Olivia asks, “What’re you and Aunt Sophie whispering about?”
Ah, the innocence of children… and their ability to not miss a thing.
Sophie’s eyes widen as if she has no idea what Olivia is talking about. “The weather,” she replies stiffly. Cassia and Jake snigger at the same time, reminding me they had the same human mother.
After we’ve had our fill of beef and chicken tacos, fresh guacamole and homemade nacho chips, and refried beans, Phoebe passes around plates of Door County cherry pie with fresh whipped cream on top. I’ve just placed my fork down on my empty plate when Jake clears his throat.
I immediately still; this is my alpha, and although he is also Sophie’s cousin, it’s Jake’s status as leader of my pack that gains my full attention.
“I just want to say I’m relieved to see you’re feeling better, Barker…
er, Teddy… and I’m happy to report you received the highest score in your first firefighter’s exam; I know you’re going to miss a few classes, but given your test results, I have no problem keeping a spot open for you.
If the rest of your training goes as well, you’ll be on the volunteer roster by the end of October. ”
Sophie and Cassia applaud, and the rest of the table follows suit, even Olivia, who has no clue why she’s clapping.
I’m thrilled and humbled at the same time; this is the second dream come true in as many days. How can a guy get so lucky? “That’s great news, Jake… Thanks for letting me know.”
I sense Nash’s eyes on me so I swivel my head in his direction. Nash leans forward. “I understand Doc Demetrius asked Sophie to serve as your nurse while you’re healing—” he waves his hand at Sophie but his gaze never leaves me “—which I find highly irregular. My daughter is a baker, not a nurse.”
“Oh, Dad,” mumbles Sophie. “It’s no trouble at all, and—”
“That’s beside the point,” interrupts Nash, rubbing his beard, which has grown thicker and bushier since his arrival.
I can’t see the length since it’s hidden by the table, but I wouldn’t be surprised if it’s now below his belt.
“I don’t understand much about werewolf mating bonds—” he shoots a glance at Olivia, who’s stabbing one of the cherries from her pie “—but I don’t like the idea of Sophie nursing you under the circumstances; seems irregular if you ask me. ”
Catbeam snorts. “Seems to me you’re missing the point, Nash.”
Sophie’s father glances at his mother-in-law in surprise. “I’m not sure I’m following.”
“If Teddy loves Sophie and vice versa, then it’s the most natural thing in the world for her to help him while he’s healing,” explains Catbeam.
Nash pouts, considers, and then asks me point blank. “What are your intentions toward my daughter?”
Sophie rolls her eyes. “Daddy! You’re embarrassing me; this isn’t Victorian England!”
“I don’t care what century it is; I’m your father, and I want Teddy to answer my question.”
As Sophie folds her arms with a huff, all eyes turn to me, even Olivia’s, who must realize something big is happening because she’s stopped playing with her pie.
“My intentions are entirely honorable, sir,” I say to Nash. “I love your daughter.”
Then I turn my attention to Sophie, who’s glanced up at those words. “I’ve been looking for you all my life, Sophie,” I say quietly. “Only I didn’t realize it was you I was seeking until I showed up at the bakery.”
“Right after I broke the wall.” She smiles.
I move our plates out of the way, reach across the table, and grip her hands, which are trembling.
“You fill me up, keep me sane, and hold me together when I’m flying apart.
You’re a symphony, a sonnet, a never-ending story that I will carry in my heart all my days.
I want to marry you, if you’ll have me… and if not, I will ask you every day until you take pity on me and finally relent. ”
Sophie’s cheeks are damp, and she laughs softly. I hear sniffling noises; I think both Phoebe and Cassia are tearing up.
Why isn’t Sophie saying anything?
“Please tell me the answer is yes,” I whisper hoarsely, prickles of dread piercing my core. Have I misread Sophie’s true feelings for me?
“Of course the answer is yes!” cries Sophie, who hurries around the table toward me, smiling through her tears.
I slide my chair back so she can sit in my lap, wincing slightly at the gentle pressure on my injured thighs, but then her lips are on mine, and I’m lost in her kisses until Oliva asks, “Aunt Sophie, can I be a flower girl? Please?”
Sophie and I both chuckle, and my fiancée says, “Yes, Olivia.”
“Yay!” shouts Olivia, adding, “And can I wear a pretty dress too?”
Cassia shushes her daughter. “Do you have a date in mind?”
“Don’t you need a job before you start planning weddings and honeymoons?” grumps Nash.
“Oh, Nash, give it a rest,” says Phoebe. “You were an unemployed chef when we got married.”
“And you had to pawn your gold watch to pay for your wedding suit,” quips Catbeam. “Good thing I knew the pawnbroker, a beady-eyed troll who demanded an incantation from me in exchange for your watch.”
“And our honeymoon was a weekend in the Wisconsin Dells,” says Phoebe. She reaches out for her husband’s hand and curls her fingers over his meaty fist. “And it was quite lovely; I wouldn’t have changed a thing.”
Nash gives Phoebe a knowing smile, and then he lets out a low, growly breath. Looking at me, he grunts, “Are you really sure you want all this?”
“Absolutely positive.”
Nash lets out a hearty belly laugh, his eyes crinkling in the corners like a jolly, brown-bearded Santa; when he’s finished, he wipes his eyes. “Welcome to the family, Teddy.”