Page 61 of Bride of Choice

“Nope. Nuh-uh.” Hunching down in my seat, I shook my head. “Not doing. I am not staying in some crazy guy’s house all by myself. Sounds like a trap or something!”

“No’ trap.” Kooky’s lips twitched and he was giving me a look that said he was wondering if I was the one not playing with a full deck.

Lips pursing, eyes narrowing, I gave Kooky a good once over. “Where are you going to be?”

Kooky gave me a surprised look. I’d totally caught him off guard. “Take Jo. Go. Lur-eaves.”

“Leave? Go where?” I murmured, eyeing his thick knuckles, noting the myriad of heavy callouses covering his blunt fingers.

“Hunt,” he grunted out, lifting a hand to scratch at his head, wondering why the fuck I was stalling, probably.

“Hunt?” My eyes narrowed on him until they were tiny little slits studying him shrewdly. “Around here?”

He gave a grunt I knew meant yes. I’d hung around enough Lo denaii to know a confirming yes grunt from a definite no one.

“And then what?” I pressed.

He blinked, then blinked some more. “Then… eat. Sleep.” A deep grunt issued from the beast. “Hunt ‘gain.” His wide shoulders lifted in a short shrug.

“How well do you know this Celuk? Are you going to be hunting with him? Is that where you’re going? Do you trust him?” It took me a minute as his gaze fell to my lips and he eyed them, he was watching me bite at the inside of my cheek.

I had it on good authority I looked funny when I did this, unlike all those stupid descriptions in books that made it sound cute or endearing. I looked like I was trying to cannibalize the flesh in my mouth.

Forcing my lips to stop looking like I’d sucked a lemon, I took a deep breath. Not like I had a lot of options at the moment, especially if I was going to keep this whole Krampus thing on the downlow. The enforcers wanted to keep this all hushity hush, and I’d agreed to shut my fat trap in exchange for their help with this whole Krampus-snatch target supposedly on my back. This was like Yeti witness protection or some shit.

“Celuk’s your brother. Of course you’d vouch for him,” I muttered, putting my hand in his finally, holding my breath as I hoisted my thick butt up and carefully exited the wood sleigh. There was something so virile and sexy about a nice set of man-hands, the warmth of them seeping into me. Ugh. Distracting. “Do you really trust him, honestly? I have your word he’s a good guy? He won’t hurt me or try and molest me, in my sleep or otherwise? Or force himself on me? I won’t wake up to him hovering over me, demanding I be his ladywife or whatever?”

“No.” Kooky shook his head as he carefully lifted me into his arms and carried me inside. “No. Celuk no do things.”

“I have your word?” I stressed.

“Words,” he swore.

The inside of Celuk’s pad was insane. Hardwood floors gleamed, thick rugs, the biggest fireplace I’d ever seen with several hooks for cookpots. This shit was FANCY. Fluffy, puffy, stuffed couches fit for even a biggun of a Yeti were placed near a wall made of rough stone. The other wall was some sort of sandy plaster. From the stones to the plaster, everything gleamed and shined, like it had been sprinkled with craft herpes, aka glitter.

A dark, heavy wood grain table as long as Dorothy’s extendable one, mismatched chairs surrounding it, was situated across from a kitchen bigger than even Mina’s, and hers was freaking nice.

A lot of thought went into this place. A lot. Maybe a lot of crazy thought, bah dum tss.

Crazy Uncle Celuk was a nester.

The area was big, bright, airy, inviting. Thick wooden beams over my head with that A frame shape made me wonder if it was hard to heat this place, though maybe the super-sized fireplace aided with that. The smell of treated dung chips and firewood tickled my nose. It smelled as good as anything Gopher had concocted.

“Jo?” Kooky called loudly, jerking me back to the present. Lost in my own little world, I must’ve zoned out on the guy.

“Hm?” I mumbled.

“Give words,” he told me.

Holding up my hand, I thrust my pinky out. Waiting for him to catch on, I wiggled it at him. “You can’t break a pinky swear.”

Nodding, he glanced from my pinky to me, looking so serious about it as he hooked his with mine and we shook on it, it was actually kind of cute.

“Carebear-swear,” I said, and he dutifully replied, “Cardboardscare.”

A laugh burst out of me unbidden. I blamed the soup-hooch starting to make my head feel all pleasantly blank and swimmy, shitting all over our moment.

“Great. Now, could you be a dear and grab my things from the sleigh?” Lifting my hand, I waved it at him imperiously. To be honest, I was desperate to make my way to the little ghouls’ room and take care of pressing personal business that did not need witnesses.

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