Page 189 of Bride of Choice

My cheeks reddened as I wondered just how many folks had heard that one. We were far enough out, hopefully none.

“Hey! Where go?! Mama makes tubers and sloppy meats! Comes back! Doogie no mean it! Puts foots in mouth!”

“I’m tired,” I lied, waving him off. “Send my best to Dorothy!”

“Jo… Jo no tell Jo’s Kooky, yes?”

He was worried I was going to tattle to his uncle? “Not unless you bring it up again.”

“Doogie shuts lips,” he swore.

Walking the back way, behind hunts, instead of through the center, right through the market place, I bumped into one of the males who’d meeting-ambushed me.

“Oh, hey. Cogomi, right?”

Cogomi nodded his head vigorously, clasping his arm with mine, so we were each gripping the others forearm, like they’d shown me comrades in arms did. I supposed we were kinda like comrades in arms. War buddies. Love is war. Love is hell. A snort sounded in my head. Love is effing complicated.

“Jo know next meet? Movie night?” Cogomi asked.

“Oh, uh, I hadn’t thought about it.” It was the farthest thing from my mind right now, actually.

“Gone on hunt, next movie night come,” he pointed out.

“Uhm, do you all want another meeting thingy before?” I blurted.

“Jes!” The male was surprisingly enthusiastic about the idea of telling me how he screwed up, getting mocked for it, then receiving suggestions on how he might remedy his fuck up. Pfft. Maybe I should attend my own meetings.

“It doesn’t have to be a night meeting. Right after midday, day before the hunt kicks off?” I suggested.

“Cogomi be there,” he enthused, offering me one more forearm handshake before hurrying off.

Huh. Go figure. I’m a Yeti love guru.

It took me longer than usual to get back home but the walk cleared my head. It did nothing to save my fingers from feeling frozen or my messed up boot from letting wetness seep in, but I wasn’t in the mood to complain.

A smirk of a smile tipped my lips as I spied two hearth pots with lids on them, steaming beside my front door.

“Jo loves Doogie now, too? Him not good male. Jojoknee no want him.” Rek huffed and puffed behind me like a good little pain in my ass sneaking up on me.

“I’m not into Doogie. We’re… friends, kinda. Frenemies.” Shaking my head, wondering why I was taking the time to explain myself to him, I opened my door, dropped my things off inside, and would have gone out for the pots if Rek hadn’t scooped them up and brought them inside himself.

“I could have done that,” I muttered drolly. Standing by the door, I motioned for him to make his way out.

Rek chose to set the pots on the table and lift the lids. He took one sniff and grabbed two plates and bowls.

Looking over at me like he hadn’t been a gigantic asshole, he grunted out, “Jo want tea?”

“Jo wants you to get out of her hut,” I gritted out, feeling very short tempered with him right now.

“Rek want tea,” he muttered, putting a pot on.

“Are you deaf? I asked you to leave,” I called out a little louder.

Sniffing the teas, he caught a hint of something, stilled, a snarl filled him, but then he shook himself out like a damned wet dog, his snarl tapered off, and he lifted shaking fingers to reach for one of the containers of tea.

“Fine. I’ll fucking leave!” I snapped, grabbing up my purse to march out the door.

Slamming the door behind me, I stood outside, seething. Honestly, where the fuck was there for me to really go?

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