Page 58 of Knocked up By the Minotaur

“I love it,” I whisper, leaning down and catching her light, floral scent. “I love y—” Snapping my mouth shut, I choke on the words that were about to slip out unbidden, and press my lips to her forehead instead. “I love it.”

“Gorgeous!” the photographer cries, and a few flashes and whirs of the camera sound out. I try to control the frantic beating of my heart at what I’d nearly said, what I never thought I’d be able to say. Even now, the phrase is lodged in my throat painfully, as if it’ll never make it past that point.

I decided before tonight that I wouldn’t let Grace know everything, not yet. Not about the Fated Mark that’s now fully formed on my wrist, or what it means. When I tell her I want to try for more with her, I need her to choose me on her own terms. Not because she feels obliged by something outside of her control. My father used the word ‘love’ too many times as a weapon, and now I’m afraid of doing the same.

“Alright, now let’s get some standard shots of the couple smiling at the camera,” the photographer directs, and Grace and I move to unwind ourselves. “No, no, keep your arm around her waist. That’s it.”

When we finish up, Malachite takes our places and stands stiffly to have his photos shot alone, and not long after that, the guests finally begin to arrive.

Primly dressed waiters stream out of the catering tent set up to the side and walk around with trays of champagne and canapes. Grace refuses a drink, so I go without as well, and I take her hand in mine and pull us forward to mingle.

“So, did you want me to stay by your side all night?” she murmurs quietly, as I walk us slowly along a candle-lit path.

“Only if you want to.” I move towards a small group of young humans and fae gathered under a gazebo. There are several such groups scattered throughout the garden, all with phones in hand taking pictures and selfies in the set up. I assume they’re influencers.

“Oh, but…” Grace fidgets the hand held in mine nervously. “Don’t you have a certain image you want to portray for the reporters? Isn’t that why you gave me this?” She plucks at her dress, and her eyes dart away from mine quickly, despite her smile.

I stop walking with a frown, and though she takes a few more steps before she realizes I’ve paused, I don’t let her hand slip from mine.

“Grace,” I say as I pull her back towards me. “I bought you this dress because I wanted to buy you this dress.”

“But…”

“I wanted to see you wearing something from me.” My frown remains as her chest bumps into mine. “I wanted to give you a gift worthy of your beauty. I haven’t got any other motives.”

Her lips part as she stares up at me, surprised, and I shake my head. What does she think of me? Why does she think I act the way I do around her? Is she really convinced I’m so unfeeling and calculated? That this is all a result of nothing but lust?

A dull thud of pain hits my chest at the idea. I don’t think it was ever simple lust with Grace. Now that my labyrinth sits fully formed on my wrist, clear as daylight, I look back on every interaction with her and realize how stupid I was for not understanding how different it’s been with her, right from the very first moment I met her at my best friend’s wedding.

I lift my hand to her cheek, running my thumb over her smooth skin, and suddenly the whole world is narrowed down to her blue eyes gazing into mine. “Grace, I—”

“What a couple you two make!”

Grace startles in my arms and pulls away as Sera approaches us, and I purse my lips at the interruption.

“Look at you making gooey eyes at each other in the sunset,” Sera continues as she comes to a stop before us. “It’d be revolting if it wasn’t so… cute?” She chuckles, a low, unpleasant sound, and lifts a camera in her hand. A sudden flash bathes us, and I blink at the intrusion of what must be the world’s most awkward photo, but Sera only grins. “Perfect! This can go on our blog tomorrow morning.”

“On your blog?” Grace says, looking both annoyed and startled. “You’re a blogger?”

“No,” Sera snaps, “I’m not a blogger,human. I head the PR team that handles the marketing and online presence for this establishment.”

Not for much longer, I think, disliking the way she looks Grace up and down as if she finds her lacking. As if she could ever compare to Grace.

“Sera,” I say with some warning. “Her name is Grace. If you can’t be polite to my lady…”

“What?” Suddenly she’s all sweet tones and painted smiles. “We were just talking about work.”

“It’s alright, pookie-bear,” Grace says with her own fake sweet voice. “You didn’t tell me she was the hired help. I wouldn’t want to be rude to the staff.” When she loops her arm around my hips and tilts up onto her toes, trying to reach my cheek for a kiss, I oblige and lean down.

Although I do try to hide my smile at her immediate lash-back as she holds her own against Sera’s poor attitude, the warning is still in my voice when I say her name. “Grace…” Play nice, kitten.

“Yes, dinkie-winky snuggle-pot-pie?”

I bite the inside of my cheeks, unable to reply for fear of snorting out loud. Sera splutters angrily beside us, and this only makes Grace snuggle more firmly into my side and lay her head against me, which I can’t say I dislike.

“Just… go and talk to those influencers,” Sera grits at me through a sudden, fake smile, and then she swoops past us and storms off.

Grace doesn’t move away. In fact, her arms tighten around me, and I finally let my smile break free as warmth rushes through my chest.

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