Page 35 of My Pucking Mate

Slowly shaking my head, “This is perfect,” I say quietly.

He leads me over to where the pizza and coffee are all spread out for us to enjoy. There's also hot cocoa, which I hadn’t noticed before.

“I love food and all, but this is a lot, even for me,” I joke.

“Whatever we don’t eat won’t last the night. Depending on the day, one of the guys could eat all this on their own,” he says with a small chuckle.

He hands me a plate and picks up one for himself. We both pile them with pizza and sweets and carry them over to the large couch. After setting our plates on the table, we head back for drinks.

“I know the other night you didn’t want coffee because it would keep you up, so I made decaf. That way, if you really wanted the coffee, you could have it.”

This man thought of everything, and it’s definitely not helping the butterfly situation in my middle.

“That was so incredibly sweet of you to remember. Thank you,” I say lightly as I try to keep the tears from reaching my eyes. Failing miserably, I lower my chin so he doesn’t see.

Of course he notices, though. He grabs my chin with just his thumb and pointer finger and slowly lifts my eyes back up to his. “What did I do? Are you okay?” he asks, his voice full of concern, one green eye, and one blue, searching mine.

“Absolutely nothing. Everything is more perfect than I ever could have imagined. I guess I’m just a little overwhelmed. I only ever had my parents, and they loved me, but it’s like, even though they loved me completely and I was always happy, I don’t know . . . it just . . . it just feels like I never actually knew what being cared for by someone else could feel like. I didn't feel this overwhelming sense of . . .”

How do I explain that I thought I was happy and loved my whole life, but now I don't feel like I know anything? When Roman holds me, hell, when he touches me, the warmth and therightnessthat I feel . . . …what do I call that? It's way too soon to say or even think about the L-word, but even this feels likemore.

“And now, with my vitamins, I feel like I don't know anything anymore. I wasn’t prepared for this much emotion.”

His eyes soften, and his body relaxes, like he was worried that I was about to run.

“I guess if you want, I could tone it down some more and we could slow down to a glacial speed,” he replies with a cocky grin on his face, causing me to giggle a little through my tears.

“You’ll do no such thing. I’m already loving this new level of pampering you’ve introduced me to.” I say with a smirk of my own.

We finish making our drinks in comfortable silence and make our way back to our food. We sit, and I can't help but marvel at the view, the company, and the twinkling lights.

Am I in some kind of coma where I’m living out some fantasy rom-com? Was I hit by a car or something?

“So,” he begins hesitantly, swallowing his pizza in a dramatic gulp. “Ask me all your questions. I’ll answer them all. Complete honesty.”

Nodding, I also swallow my pizza and set down my plate of food, dusting off my hands. I take a deep breath. “Let’s start with her. What was that the other night? What are you to her?” I hate feeling vulnerable over someone I barely know, but I don’t have control over my feelings towards him.

“Okay, I promised you complete honesty, so please just hear me out. Let me get it all out, and if there are more questions, you can ask them, and as long as I know the answer, I’ll provide it. Okay?”

“Okay,” I say, feeling small and skeptical.

“Her name is India. Her father and mine have been friends since their youth. They both came from upper-class families, but where her father grew to become our king’s advisor, my father never obtained a title. I rose to power to be the commander of the king’s army. For whatever reason, our fathers always wanted us to be together, but I didn’t want any part of it. I found my mate. Her name was Imogen, and all I wanted was a life with her. She wasn’t noble or high-class, and that infuriated my father. She was born in the village, and she had the most amazing heart. We didn’t care what anyone said. So, we made ourselves a home and were starting our lives together . . .” He pauses, and I’m not sure I’m ready for what he has to tell me if it hurts him like this.

“Roman, you don’t have t—” I start.

“Yes, I do. You need to know everything. You need to know who I am and why I am the way I am sometimes. The sooner, the better.”

I just nod and take his giant hand in mine.

“We were just starting our lives together. She was pregnant with our first child. She was crazy; she wanted as many kids as we could have. I was called away for an emergency involving thearmy one day. I promised I’d be right back. I wasn’t even gone four hours when I knew something was wrong and raced home. She was murdered.”

I’m openly crying now. This man lost his mate and his child. “Did you find out who did it? Why they did it?” I ask quietly through my sniffles.

He lowers his head and shakes it. I think that’s all the response he'll give when he speaks. “I never found anything. None of my men did either. The only people who ever even disliked her were my father and Khaos' father. Even though they disliked her, I never suspected them capable of murdering her without proof of any kind.”

“So that’s why when I showed up . . .”

It’s his turn to just nod.

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