Page 63 of The Minotaur's Valentine

I roll my eyes. Mom is laying it on pretty thick, but at least she didn't ask a flood of embarrassing questions. I figure she'll probably wait until Libby is gone. I crane my neck up and put my finger to my lips. Libby gives me an answering nod.

“Go ahead, Mom.”

My mother waits a few minutes (presumably to let Libby get out of the area). Then she asks, “What is she? Is she a fae? Her voice sounds high-pitched. I know she's not a minotaur.”

“Mom!” Why did I do this? I try to shove Libby off my shoulder, but she won’t budge.

“Oh, I don't care if she is a fae or a wolf or a vampire! Although, if she is a vampire, I do hope you will consider adoption.”

“Mother, Libby is a human. We’re not ready to talk about babies or adoption.”

My mother’s voice cools. “Fine. But I want you to be careful.”

Oh, God. Oh, please no. Don't let my mother have a sex talk in front of my brand new girlfriend.

I sit down on the couch and swat Libby on the thigh, motioning her to let go. I feel her legs unhook and I bolt into the kitchen, leaving her on the couch with a soft plop.

Once I’m in the kitchen, I whisper, “Mother, I promise we’ll be careful.” I cross my fingers and try not to picture the way Libby looked on all fours, her gaping pussy gushing cum once I pulled out of her. That wasn’t careful, but I did see the little purple packet of birth control pills on Libby’s kitchen counter. That shows that she’s responsible and careful. If it were up to me, I probably wouldn’t have thought twice. I hang my head.

“I really, really like her, Mom. I would never put her at risk. You don’t need to worry about her, either. She’s a vet tech, training to be a full-fledged veterinarian. She knows all about reproduction and I—”

“Milo! I’m not talking about the bedroom! I’m talking about how teeny humans are! You could step on her and break her foot. Watch out if you go anywhere in her car. Don’t get your horns caught in any upholstery. I want her to think I raised a boy with manners!”

“Oh. Yes, Mom.”

My mother’s voice softens. “You like her so much, my love?”

“Yeah. So much. When we come over for dinner—just be relaxed. Casual. Okay?”

“Yes, Milo. Whatever you think best. Have a nice night, darling.”

“Bye, Mom.”

I hang up and go back to the workshop. I hope Libby didn’t hear too much. I don’t want to scare her. I’ve never had a real broken heart before, and I don't want one now.

Chapter Fifty: Libby

Milo is still talking to his mother on the phone, so I meander through the living room and into the bedroom. I see a photo of his parents, his brother and his wife, and Milo. It must be at a wedding because the men are in dark blue blazers and white shirts. Milo’s mother wears heavy sapphire and gold jewelry and a sparkling blue dress. Her dark, curly hair is held back by a fancy clip on one side.

The bride... Holy cow. (That’s so tasteless. I can’t do that when I meet his parents.) But for real—Milo’s sister-in-law looks like a Greek goddess if Greek goddesses had bovine heads. Her skin tone (fur tone?) is palomino gold, and her hair is dark blonde and swept up at the sides. In the back, her hair flows down in long ringlets over her strapless gown. Before Milo I’ve never seen a minotaur in person, obviously, but I’ve seen minotaurs in mythology stories in school. However, I’ve never even seen an illustration of a minotaur woman. I study Milo’s mother and his sister-in-law. They’re tall and broad, just super-curvy with it. Milo’s brother looks utterly smitten with his new wife. Milo’s dad is looking besottedly at his wife of many years. And Milo?

“I look happy enough, right? I was happy for Bill and Selene.” Milo comes up behind me, his arms stealing around my waist. His tail softly strokes my leg. I can’t explain why I love that feeling, that extra sensation. I sink back into his touch, which moves his big, strong hands up to just under my breasts.

“Selene? She’s gorgeous.”

“Yeah, she’s really sweet. Bill picked a good one.”

I love the feeling of him touching me in so many places at once.

Damn. I didn’t realize how affection-starved I’d been until just now.

“What’s wrong?”

“I miss my mom. I miss hugs.” I shrug. I’m used to acting tough.

Milo presses me closer, something I didn’t think was possible. “I’m sorry.”

“No big deal. Your family is beautiful.”

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