Page 47 of Dragon Detective

“Sure it is. You should buy . . . paper clothing, I guess. Or wear a garbage bag.” There was nothing sexy about that, but I’d long since learned to economize. My dad might own a construction business, but he didn’t stiff his customers. He kept his prices fair, taking only enough profit to keep him and Mom comfortable and save a bit.

I’d done the same while working with him during the summers and then when I had finished my schooling. It wasn’t in me to toss away decent clothing. If something no longer fit or I didn’t want it, I took it to the local shelter where someone might use it.

“We have thought of paper clothing. I’m not dressing in a garbage bag.” His crooked grin grew. “That would mess with my hot guy reputation.”

A well-deserved rep. “Alright then. Shred this outfit, but maybe buy some cheap stuff from a thrift store for the future.”

He cocked his head, a frown stealing his smile. “Checkered pants from the clearance bin? T-shirts with corny sayings?”

“Something like that. I’m good at finding bargains, and I’ll be glad to help.”

“Dragon shifters go back forever,” he said, his frown only deepening. “We’re hoarders.”

“You mean like piles of unneeded papers and yard sale finds from floor to ceiling all over your house, leaving only narrow paths between them and sheds stuffed to the point you can’t get inside?”

“Like jewels. Precious metals. Treasures you can only find far beneath the ground.”

“I don’t get it.”

“I don’t need to worry about the cost of clothing.”

It was only now sinking in. He was politely trying to tell me he was wealthy. I wasn’t sure what I thought about that, though this was his wealth, not mine.

“I assume dragons donate a lot, then,” I said.

“Always and to everyone in need. Who do you think makes many of those anonymous donations?”

“People who don’t want to be named. Those who are happy to help without getting credit. Lots of people donate that way.”

“As do dragon shifters.”

“Just because you can afford to buy anything you might want or need doesn’t mean you can’t be frugal.”

“No checkered pants.”

My laugh snorted out, lightening the mood. “You might look good in them.”

He advanced on me and swept me up in his arms again, spinning me around while I clung to his shoulders and laughed harder. “If you think they’ll look good, I’ll wear them.” Coming to a stop, he gazed down at me with the entire world in his eyes. I could sink in and wander there forever.

He gave me a kiss that was too quick to savor, though it left my lips burning with need, and set me back on my feet. My heels stabbed down into the sand, grounding me despite my mind that wanted to keep spinning.

“After I shift, would you pick up my shredded clothing and put them inside my bag?” he said. “I’ll dispose of them later. And after you’ve done that, and you’re on my back, you can hook the bag onto the spike jutting up between my shoulders. You can hold onto the spike while we fly to help maintain your balance.”

“I haven’t even ridden a horse other than the wooden ones inside a carousel, let alone a dragon.”

“You’re going to love it.”

We’d see about that.

“What do you do with the clothing shreds if there’s no one here to handle that for you?” I asked.

“I carry them in my mouth.”

My smile rose. “I bet you look cute with clothing dangling out of your mouth.”

“I look like I just ate someone. Where do you think all those rumors about dragons eating people come from?”

“Oh, wow. I never thought of that. Are you saying that dragons have never eaten people?”

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