Page 12 of Prayers for the Prickly

Silence met his declaration, for about half a second, before my Aunty Clara threw her hands and notebook into the air, the small pad hitting one of the ceiling fans overhead before it went careening into a wall as she shrieked loud enough to bring everyone rushing out from the kitchen.

“What’s happened, what’s wrong?” my Aunty Eunice asked, wielding a spatula like she was about to send a line drive right down the center of the infield.

My cousins’ and siblings’ voices chimed in, all of them looking around wildly, searching for danger while Aunty Clara hugged the stuffing out of me. If I’d been a jelly donut, all my sticky sweet filling would have been on the table for the world to see. Judging from the heated look Gregor was giving me, he’d have been shoving everyone aside so he could lap it all up, too.

Ohh.

That brought back memories of the dreams I’d had since I met him and now I couldn’t help but try to imagine what his tongue on me would feel like, which was the absolute worst thing I could do, because the slick started flowing again and there was no way they didn’t smell it, or the heavy, musky scent beginning to permeate the air around Gregor.

“August found his mate,” Aunty Clara declared.

A cheer went up, and then a big old hedgehog pile happened right on top of me and the chair. Fortunately for me, it was metal and made big and wide, since we had a few bear and moose shifters that loved to drop in and those guys were massive.

I accepted the squishy hugs, while Gregor sat back in his seat, a tiny smile on that fiercely scowling face. I was starting to wonder if that fierce look was just his default setting, but it pleased me to see that our exuberance didn’t seem to bother him any. Some of the men I’d gone out with over the years had taken one look at my large, affectionate, roly poly family, and tapped out of the relationship, citing an aversion to chaos and the way we tended to be a bit loud and up in each other’s business. What could I say, we were a happy bunch that loved working and playing together. Every last one of us was creative in some way or another, a fact that had made us targets over the years, especially for those who couldn’t stand to see other people enjoying life and refusing to dwell on the shitty things, or bitch about them loudly to anyone and everyone who would listen.

It was only after the clamor had started to die down and the line at the counter had begun to grow long without anyone to wait on our customers, that Aunty Eunice clapped her hands, and herded everyone back to the kitchen, shooing the stragglers with her apron when they tried to linger.

“Your folks will be so pleased when they hear about this,” Aunty Clara said. “Are you heading over after you eat, or will you be bringing Gregor to dinner tonight to introduce him to the rest of the family properly?”

Silence followed her question, as that tiny smile slipped from Gregor’s face, leaving that snarly look that frightened me a little.

“What time is supper?” Gregor asked when I said nothing.

“Six thirty sharp.”

“Is there anything I should bring?” Gregor asked. “Beer, wine, I’d have offered to pick up dessert but, um, I’m pretty sure you’ve got that covered.”

“Beer or hard cider will be just fine,” Aunty Clara asked, the amusement having slipped from her face in the wake of my silence. “Do your people know you’ve found your mate yet?”

When he shook his head, her face pinched into that dangerous little frown that always came right before she waded in to lecture someone.

“We only just realized that we were mates when we’d run into each other at the beach this morning,” I explained. “We came in to eat and have a chance to talk about, well, everything that we want this to be and to mean to us, but we hadn’t gotten that far yet.”

“Ahhh,” she replied, and just like that, the frown was gone as she nodded her head. “That’s understandable then.”

Her gaze drifted toward Gregor as she studied him intently. “You smell like fury and destruction. I peg you for a predator, but I’ve not been able to suss out what flavor of shifter lies beneath your skin.”

“Wolverine,” Gregor replied. “I hope that won’t be an issue for your family.”

“My question is, will it be an issue for yours?”

Her pointed question was exactly what I’d been wondering, too. When his shoulders slumped, I was afraid I had my answer, but again, he surprised me, this time by shrugging.

“I honestly can’t say one way or the other,” he admitted. “I haven’t even had the chance to ask August what flavor of shifter he is.”

“We’re hedgehogs, honey,” she replied. “And we are very protective of our own.”

“I don’t mean August any harm, ma’am, and I would never allow my family to harm my mate, no matter what feelings they might have about them or my mating,” Gregor admitted.

“You’re not purists, are you?” she asked, while I sat in the chair like a child as the conversation went on without me.

I was grateful to Aunty Clara, though, for cutting to the heart of things so I didn’t have to worry about the best way to broach the subject.

“No, ma’am,” Gregor replied.

That he’d slipped into a more formal way of conversing let me know that he understood the seriousness of the discussion and the potential ramifications that could come from any answers she didn’t like.

“Could you elaborate, please?” she requested.

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