Page 95 of Red Flag, Green Light

He shuts his mouth and eyes me. “Too far?”

“You can’t tell your friends that we’re getting married when we’re not.”

“Richard’s not a friend.”

“His wife is going to plan a wedding gift.”

“That doesn’t make us friends. Friends do things together. Like you and me. Unless you’re still attached to our enemies-to-lovers arc, in which case enemies also totally do things together, probably.”

I sigh. “What did you do?”

“For…Richard and his wife?”

“Yeah.”

“Saved their dog.”

If I knew how to screech to a halt, I would. Unfortunately, I would go flying over my handlebars, so I merely mosey on ahead, toward the next food truck stop, while judging Mars. “You…saved their dog?”

“Rich’s kinda gruff. Some lousy teenagers were messing around with pot near his truck. He gave them a talking to. They didn’t like that. They stole his wife’s pomeranian. I was riding through town and saw the whole thing happen, so I swooped in Kaitou Kid style, tossed a few cards, left a couple scars, and got the puffball back.” As though he’s not just said anything impressive, Mars rubs his eye. “Sucks a bit since those dang teenagers retaliated via keying my bike…but anyway. Rich and his missus couldn’t have kids, I guess, so that dog is practically their son. I’ve never seen a woman so panicked or so grateful. She hugged me. It was awful.”

I’m very unclear on how I am supposed to respond. The man saved someone’s pomeranian. He bakes carrot cake, every other day. He bought me snacks and a stuffed animal for my birthday, after planning a scavenger hunt using my favorite flowers all over town.

Sweetdoes not begin to describe him.

Every last person in town should be flocking to him.

I find it personally offensive that they do not.

“You’re not a hugger?” I ask.

“Very much not.”

Could have fooled me, considering that one time not that long ago, when we hugged all night…

“You are an exception.”

“Thank you for the clarification.”

He smiles. “Anytime, darling.”

“Please don’t tell anyone else that we’re getting married at the festival.”

“Is that a boundary?”

My nose scrunches. “Don’t sound so excited.”

“What can I say? I’m a sucker for novelty, and it’s so rare you reprimand me.”

Is it? Is it really? Yeah, okay, fine. I’m not much of a reprimander. I’m an instigator at best.

I jut my lip. “I prefer a princess role.”

Mars beams. “That’s excellent news. Your arranged marriage is scheduled for June 14th. It’s to be a public execution, before all the domain’s subjects. You’ll wear what I tell you, sign where I say, and on the whole, forego complaint. Understood?”

The temptation to sayyes, villainis overwhelming, but I’ve yet to lose all my sense. “No.”

“It was worth a shot.”

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