Page 27 of Prayers for the Prickly

“There is nothing gleeful about the way I move around a kitchen,” I snapped. “I’ve been told that storm is a more accurate way to put it, though stomp has even been used to describe my movements from time to time.”

“So, I took a little creative license,” he murmured, his beard tickling me.

“A lot of creative license is more like it,” I grumbled, wondering where the hell I was getting the energy to continue to snark at him when all I wanted to do is slip away into dreamland.

“Pff.”

“That right there tells me that I’m right.”

“I’ll tell you all the reasons you’re right in the morning, but I think we both need some rest right now,” he declared, the weight of his head on the pillow making it dip more as he sank into it, too.

When I woke, the room was filled with golden light and my alarm was screaming at me. I don’t know how the hell he managed to set it without needing me to open the lock screen for him, until I realized that the lock screen opened to facial recognition as well, something he’d seen me use several times now. I bet he held it up to my face to unlock it so I wouldn’t be late making my delivery.

Some people might have been pissed, and I knew others would call it an invasion of privacy, but I wasn’t worried about concealing anything on my phone from him, nor would I expect him to go looking. I trusted that he’d opened the phone, opened the clock app, set the alarm to give me enough time to shower, eat and drive there, closed it and returned it to the spot where I’d left it before he’d gone about his morning routine.

That was the kind of consideration I could appreciate. He could have just as easily woken me and told me to set it myself. At that point, I’d probably have just gotten up and left with him, since my brain wouldn’t have allowed me to fall back asleep after that, knowing it was morning already.

Yawning, I stretched and wiggled around on my back, feeling the ache in my shoulders ease as I rolled them and turned my head from side to side until my neck popped. Much better. The feel of the hot water pouring over my shoulders from the overhead shower chased the last lingering bits of sleep away as I rubbed shampoo into my hair and tipped my head back to wash the suds from it. Living here in this amazing converted lighthouse, with more space than I’d ever imagined, once he started showing me the extension they’d built onto it, including a huge family room and a gigantic kitchen with plenty of counter space on both sides, double sinks, a dishwasher, and holy shit, even a pizza oven that sat waiting for me to claim it. It even had an island in the center, with more cabinet and counter space. Done in the same nautical themed blue and white as the rest of the lighthouse, it just looked cozy.

It had made my little hedgehog heart super happy when he’d bowed at the entryway and ushered me past him on the way into the room, proclaiming it to be the room where I could experiment to my heart’s content. At first, I’d wondered if he’d still be saying that after he saw how many pots, pans and kitchen gadgets I’d be bringing with me, until I started opening the cabinets and discovered that they were mostly empty.

“I haven’t had the opportunity to set the space up properly,” he explained. “With it just being me living here, there really wasn’t a need.”

“No need for you to worry about that any longer,” I told him. “There’s more than enough room for all the things I have and all the things I’ve put off getting because I didn’t have a space for them.”

“Looks like that problem’s been solved.”

“You’re getting really good at solving problems you didn’t even know I had,” I told him, tugging him in for a kiss.

“Consider it another of those special talents of mine.”

My mate truly was talented, especially when it came to surprising me with little gestures that showed not only his thoughtfulness, but that he’d already made a space for me in his life. I’d seen a few of my siblings and their mates struggle with that. Sometimes it took time and miscommunication before couples started seeing each other as a duo instead of individuals.

I took my time enjoying my shower, but the moment I started dressing my phone let out a series of little pings. Racing to it, I picked it up to see that it had been pinging for a while, with several messages addressed directly to me, telling me to hurry up and bring my butt down to the shop and Gregor, too, if he was still with me.

Since he wasn’t I fired off a quick text asking him to go there if he was able to, that I didn’t know what was going on but that they were asking for both of us. I got his reply as I headed down the stairs. Three curt words,on my way, giving me a sense of relief as I started driving there.

It was butt fuck early in the morning, we’d barely opened. What the fuck could possibly be happening already? I started going back over my memories of the night before, everything had been off, wiped, checked and double-checked, sanitized and put away when we’d locked up.

No matter what state I was in, I never failed to maintain kitchen safety and end of the day protocols, even going out of my way to double-check myself the way I had last night because I’d known how exhausted I was. If the place was on fire, it wasn’t because of anything I’d done or forgotten to do.

I arrived to a bit of a crowd, both of customers and relatives that had crowded into Ever’s chocolate shop, where a large, imposing woman in a black leather jacket loudly demanded that he stay the fuck away from her son.

“You need to leave this instant,” Aunty Eunice demanded.

When the woman whirled to turn her furious gaze on her, I saw that she had facial tattoos and a scar running from her ear to her cheek.

“I’ll leave when this bit of vermin agrees to steer clear of my son,” she snarled.

“Isn’t it Olly’s choice who he spends time with?” Ever asked.

“Oliver is too stupid to know when he’s being played for a fool,” she hissed, glaring at everyone around them. “Do not make me come back here or I swear it will be a far less pleasant experience.”

“That’s enough, Dana!”

The voice sounded a lot like Gregor’s, but different, rougher, as was the face I saw when I turned to look toward the entryway.

The crowd parted for a man who looked a lot like Gregor, too, only a little older and taller. He had at least three inches on the woman, and he seized her arm the moment he reached her. Heat and hatred flared in their gazes when their eyes locked, and for a moment they engaged in a stare down that ended only when she lowered her gaze and allowed herself to be led out of the shop.

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