Page 129 of Home to the Hollow

Her snort is knowing. “Yep. I’ve been around that scene enough to know how shark infested those waters are, though. There’s a lot of protocol involved, and he’ll need a cultural liaison to help the deals go smoothly and not get outwitted by their London barristers.”

I nod, navigating around the bumps in the road as I continue, “Word on the farm is that he heard a certain sugarplum might help with that. I think that’s why he was eager enough to get you squared away on his payroll—even starting out as a horse helper—before some other founding family approached you for their own business dealings.”

Jolene’s brows furrow, and she shakes her head vehemently. “Well, I came here to settle down for a while, Wolfie. I’ve lived the life of the glamorous fixer for years, and when I moved back to the States, I set that aside for other dreams. That eventually led me back home to the Hollow. They’ll be disappointed if they think money will get me to hop on their jets to negotiate their troubles.”

Her spunk is hot as hell, and I love she doesn’t seem concerned who she pisses off. Maybe she is a little more…in charge like Prez said?

“I told Aldous that yesterday, but he was quite smug in his assertion that he and the mayor are very persuasive. Though, he had Poe and Parker with him and when he schemes with those sphinxes in his arms, my brain goes straight to a Southern Dr. Evil, and I almost laugh in his face.”

A single giggle slips from her lips and before long, she’s doubled over, clutching her stomach as she laughs. I’m so busy congratulating myself on the joke that I almost miss the turn to the meadow I picked out. I love this corner of the farm—it has grassy fields and flowers and this old rope swing. I’m hoping she finds it as charming as I do; I’ve had every detail of this date planned since Tuesday.

When I stop the cart, I hop out and get the basket and blanket, leaving her there while I set up. She watches me as I put out the food and drinks, making certain every piece is placed with care. I stand up, scratching my stomach as I study my work and that’s when I feel the difference in her gaze. My Fae emotion sensors go absolutely bonkers when her gaze goes from watchful to heated.

I turn back, biting my lip as I hold out my hand. She’s blushing, so she knows I caught her looking at me. It feels like a good time for a little gesture, so I brush my lips over her knuckles briefly and wink at her. Jolene’s eyes widen, but she follows me to the blanket and drops onto it. Nervous energy fills the air, so I pour her a glass of the champagne.

I’ll do anything to get her to look at me like that again, that’s for sure.

* * *

“So,the whole thing ended up being acomplete disasterand my mother was furious with me as if I’d arranged the popular kids pulling one of the meanest pranks in the history of the Hollow,” she says before she sips her third flute of bubbly.

I shake my head, giving her a sheepish smile. “I hadno ideayou were part of the ‘Cotillion Catastrophe’. People talk about it at the start of every season, but they only whisper. They never mention names before some old biddy shushes them as if speaking it aloud could will it into existence again.”

Her flush is back as she looks away and murmurs, “Well, I’m sure they’re terrified that some dumbass kids will try to recreate it. Edgar, Ophelia, Benjy, Reese, Jillian, Amy, Blake, Dylan, and their cronies on the football and cheer squads made sure that it was legendary. I know I’ll never forget it.”

I could throttle every one of those motherfuckers for putting this look on her face.

Scooting closer, I reach up and cup her jaw, turning her face back to mine. I’m not quite sure what I’m doing, but I know it feels right. “Sugarplum, I can promise you I’d kick Edgar square in the nuts if it’d make you smile after that story.”

That makes her even more embarrassed, it seems, because she dips her chin. “It’s okay. I mean, I won’t forget, but it doesn’t actively hurt me anymore. You know how the politics in this town go—I don’t think it was about me. I got in the way, and I was collateral damage. I’ve stood in front of the firing squad to protect people who can’t protect themselves and that was one of those times.”

I can almosthearthe therapist’s voice reassuring her that she wasn’t at fault. The way her entire demeanor changes when she talks about that time tells me she’s probably worked hard for a long time to try to move past it. Being home must really be stretching her acceptance thin. I move closer still, tipping her chin up so she’s looking at me. “I like that about you, sugarplum. In fact, I like a lot of things about you.”

Jolene opens her mouth to speak, but I kiss her instead. I don’t know what changes or why, but suddenly, she pushes me on my back and crawls over me. The submissive part of me loves that move and I rumble against her lips. Her confidence is back; she grins and nips my lower lip, tugging on it playfully. I shift under her, adjusting our bodies until they fit together like they were made to do so.

“You’re offering yourself to me, little Wolfie?”

Oooh. I like that.

Sliding my hands over her bum, I squeeze lightly as I look up at her. The question trips something inside of me and I have to pause for a second to fight the urge to drop the human guise. My ears are tingling like hell and I know that means this is a very important moment. The response tumbles off my tongue like it’s instinct. “Are you accepting, Jolene Athena Whitley?”

She nods. “I am, Wolfgang Lucien Fletcher.”

“We’ve been drinking,” I whisper carefully. My eyes meet hers, searching for signs that she’s too tipsy to make an informed decision about consent. I have a feeling deep in my gut that if we start, we won’t stop, and I’m not sure what will happen after that.

I couldn’t live with myself if she regretted being with me.

Shrugging, she smiles up at me. “Not enough to make a difference in my thought process. Or are you all bark and no bite?”

I look at her in surprise. How could she possibly think I’m trying to fob her off?

“Look, if you don’t want?—”

Before she can finish her self-conscious declaration, I wiggle my fingers under her tight riding shirt and peel it off, tossing it aside with a smirk. Her answer is to push her body into a plank position, balancing on one leg as she works to help me get her boots off, then mine. Once they’re taken care of, I wiggle out of my scrub shirt. Her fingers work the knot on my scrub pants and before long, I’m kicking them off as well.

Those moves were impressive as hell and I’ll be damned if she doesn’t have some serious core strength.

“You’re going to have to get those damned breeches loose, sugarplum. I’m aware of how tightly they cling to legs like yours.” I lean up to kiss her before I lay back in my boxer briefs and let my eyes roam over her curvy frame. She’s absolutely stunning, even with her breasts bound in riding undergarments, and her hips jiggling as she starts to work on the skin tight breeches.

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