Page 99 of Peacock Me Like a Hurricane

“Baby, can I ask you a question?” When I nod, he mumbles, “Why don’t you want me to meet the rest of your family?”

“Who in the hell said that?”

He shrugs, looking chagrined. “No one.”

“Are you sure of that?” I look at him, tilting my head. “If I gave that impression, I didn’t mean to by any stretch.”

“I mean, I know my family isn’t extensive, but you’ve met Talia, Damien’s stopped by and, the only one you’ve not seen, though she’s been here, is Theodora.”

“I want you to meet them. I’m so damned greedy about time with you, I haven’t wanted to give any up to other people. But I made a big deal about the party on purpose, though, you know.”

He blinks. “Wait, are you serious? You’re not poking me or anything, are you?”

I shake my head. “Well, Leo’s been here and so has Hex: cleaning up and filling the fridge. Though they haven’t stayed long enough to meet you.”

“I’ve not met them because you’re hoarding me?”

“Kind of?”

“I’ve been thinking bad thoughts. That’s what I get for assuming, I guess.”

I give him a sheepish look. I have been escaping to here with him, avoiding the crush of all the other obligations I have and getting away from the ever-present drama that I am almostcertain Sari is orchestrating in the background. “I’m sorry, baby. I didn’t mean to make you feel like I was ashamed. or something. I can have one or two of them stop by tonight if you’d like.”

“No, no, it’s okay, love. Now that I know why they’ve not been by and know that it’s not me, I’m okay.”

“It’s not you at all. I promise. I’m proud that you’re mine and I want everyone to know. I want you to know my family. I’m sure you’ll get along with Philomena, because she gets along with almost no one.”

“Yeah, well, I’m sodding rich and appreciate a right good bitch, so that makes sense.” He grins and puts his hands behind his head.

“She is a bitch, though, she’s been good about holding the fort down for me.”

“You’re stuck with me, then. Everyone will love me and you love me most of all.” He tugs me closer and runs a fang down my mark, making me shiver.

“I don’t have a complaint there.”

His smile is wicked, and he pulls back. “Speaking of less pleasant branches of your family tree, I saw you did a pleasant set over at that hellhole the twat opened. Excellent choice, that.”

“I love Elvis,” I sigh. “His voice is… oooh.”

“That brings us back to hunk of burning clone, baby.”

“If you sing Elvis to me one day, I promise to swoon.”

He blinks, looking amazed. “Are you making fun of me, baby?”

“If you get up there and sing me some Elvis, good Elvis, I promise to sit and swoon — in front of the entire bar, even.” I grin, waiting to see if he takes the bait.

I’ve made small appearances as a political thing at that blasted bar. Since I like karaoke, I go under the auspices of singing a song for whatever theme they’ve picked that week. Sometimes, I send the boys or gals to do it for me, because Ineed a constant eye on that Southern bitch. We suffer the horrid performances people give so I can watch for trouble. Taurus on stage, singing to me, will make an impression—a firm one.

“Well, I could do a ballad or two for the right chit,” he scratches his chin, rising to the bait I threw as I grin.

“Oh, come now, baby. You’re a brilliant singer and you know it. Not to mention you love people to watch you strut and you want to see me swoon.”

Pausing for a moment, he looks thoughtful again and I know I have him.

“There is that. Did any of your other gits sing Elvis to you? I ride on no one’s coattails.”

“Did anyone else sing Elvis for me? Not that I know of.”

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