Page 88 of Peacock Me Like a Hurricane

The Cat and Bird Take a Test

TAURUS

What an absolute bloody train wreck that was.

Imagine for a moment: a stunningly handsome, cosmopolitan git sitting in a public pew at a church with his equally dangerous mate while listening to a Southern pastor drone on about forgiveness and turning the other cheek.

This time I give you permission to laugh because it had to be comical. Talia did her best to look normal in a demure floral number, but she’s lithe and tan with the look of a woman who takes no shit. Clad in silk and Armani and though I’ll admit to being striking, normal looking, I am not. We looked like new money Yankees on vacation in Florida. Accurate—if you think about it—but fit in? Not a chance in hell.

Talia’s mum is a nightmare, but her grand-mum is a delicate lady. She insisted that Talia come to a church event in their town, and since neither of them is fond of electronic communication—nor do they know that she lives in another dimension—the message got delayed. By the time my primarygot the heads up, it was too late to decline. That’s why she called me this morning in a fury.

Usually I do the best that I can to endure when we have to make the occasional trip to visit. Today, it felt like my skin was shrinking on my bloody skeleton. Every minute I was there and not at home with my minx made me itch all over in anticipation.

I bloody hate waiting for anything. Period.

Talia finally took pity on me and sent me a pocket text to rescue me. She gave me an out by pretending to be the Company so I could get home before I exploded. She found the whole situation hysterical. If she hadn’t helped me duck out, then she would have paid for her titters.

It hits me again as I hurry home. Today might be the day. Since the day she told me about the heat and we gave this a try, waiting has been like sitting on pins and pitchforks. We’ve been working our tails off—literally—to increase our chances by getting frisky frequently. Not that it’s such a trial, mind you, but it’s been ten days and I’m aching to see if it paid off.

The wait is almost over—bugger.

I never tested the information her contact on the other side gave her with the lab coats. doing research of their own. I should have checked, and that’s eating at me now. I trusted her to know if the git she tapped had the creds to back up his statements. It’s unlike me not to verify anyway, though. What if we’ve put all this stock into a huge bloody miscalculation?

Christ, I can’t think about that now.

Waiting has made me irritable—more than normal, thank you very much—and unable to focus. I need to find out and Hell help me, if we find out she’s not, I don’t know what I’ll do.

My distraction explains why I haven’t even taken the time to inspect the construction in our home. I’ve had the building going since we mated. I wanted to give her a proper place for us. I wanted us to have a haven of sorts — some place that is onlyours. I’ve been adding little bits to our home piece by piece as we grow closer. I used to check every day to see what was in the works and what they completed, but not this week.

I walk into our bedroom and the sight of my Sandwich nearly knocks me off my feet.

This is normally the point in the day that I’d be rushing in to bury my face against her neck—among other places—but I can’t yet. She looks so vital and so beautiful that I can hardly step into the room. My heart seizes up and I stop to watch her for a moment. It does something to a man to see his woman wearing his clothes. Usually, for me, it’s something akin to sending my temper into overdrive.

With her, it just melts me inside.

She’s sitting on the bed with headphones in her ears as she leans against the beautiful white tiger. That sneaky shit ferret perches above her head. He’s clutching something shiny that had better not be mine. The minx is chowing down on the biggest bowl of ice cream that I’ve ever seen outside of a gallon tub and she’s only wearing one of my shirts and a pair of knee socks with superhero capes on them. Her toes are wiggling to the beat as she reads a book that is floating in front of her. With her hands free, she continues scarfing down what smells like mint chocolate chip from here.

She’s vibrant and alive and most importantly, mine.

Her nostrils flare and a smile spreads across her face. She tugs the headphones out of her ears and tosses them in her little bowl. “I feel you,” she sing-songs.

Grinning, I reach for her heart through our connection and give it a brush with my own. “I know, love. I feel you, too–all the time now. You looked so perfect that I wanted to watch you for a bit.”

Her smile widens, and she closes the book with a thought, turning to put it to the nightstand as well. If I know her—and Ido—she’s turning away to hide the faint blush she gets when I surprise her with a compliment. It’s one of her most endearing traits, and it draws me to her side like a moth to a flame.

Looking over her shoulder, she smiles. Her curls tumble around her face like a fiery wreath. “You should always come in. I always want to see you, but especially today.”

I cross the room, stopping to scratch Aradia behind the ears and glare at the rat. He gives me a dirty look right back—I bloody swear—and scampers off with his spoils. I do not know what he’s got, but I’m sure I’ll be rampaging later when I discover that it’s missing.

Dropping a kiss to her lips, I run a fingertip down her cheek in a soft caress. She’s much more important than the walking scarf.

“I don’t know about you, but I think that’s better than watching from the door.” She stretches and grunts as she shifts, then leans over and growls at the tiger. Aradia grumbles back, and she gives her rump a pat before the graceful cat leaps from the bed and lumbers to her own.

I will have to buy the princess a bigger bed soon. Putting it on my mental checklist, I laugh as the minx tugs me down with her.

Christ, I missed her.

“How did your day go?” Her eyes dance and I can tell she’s poking at me.

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