Page 50 of Sold Rejected Mate
“So does everyone here.”
“I’m serious.”
“So am I? What’s wrong with taking care of chickens? Making that your contribution?”
She’s quiet as we take the final turn, and when the sleek black gate outside my house comes into view, I realize exactly what she’s been talking about—this place isn’t her at all.
In fact, I’m not sure it’s me, either.
I’m not even sure whatmelooks like.
“Fine,” she says, glancing at me. “I’m relenting. You’re going to buy me some chickens, Cambias.”
She climbs out of the car, and I follow her eagerly, feeling a thrill of lust before I remember that she’s on her period. Maybe I could convince her to try it out. I read online that for some women, it helps with cramps.
Walking through the door, I catch her, pull her back into my chest, and whisper into her neck, “And I am such a lucky man.”
Chapter 25 - Valerie
I keep up the lie about my period for a full week. Each morning, I look at myself in the mirror, smoothing my hands over my belly, trying to see if I can tell a difference in myself.
The nausea is definitely a difference, but with Phina’s teachings on healing magic, I’m able to mostly keep it down, keeping Lachlan from noticing.
On Saturday morning, after Silverville has gone an entire week without a fire, Lachlan and I go to the farmers market to get a gift for dinner at Xeran and Phina’s place tonight. Now that I’m partnered up with him, I’m automatically invited to dinner parties. Events where I can try out the nice dresses he’s buying me.
Now, I walk alongside him in a sundress, looking out at all the stalls and vendors. It’s still a strange feeling, to both not be working and have endless money, but Lachlan tells me many times to get whatever I want. So when I find a little stand that sells earrings, I buy a pair and show them to him, smiling from ear to ear when he sees the little chicken charms.
“You should put them on right now,” he says, and so I do.
The town square is a riot of color, farmers selling fat beefsteak tomatoes that look like they’re still warm from the sun, and sweet corn with the husks peeled back to reveal perfect golden kernels.
When we walk by a barrel of Palisade peaches, the smell wraps around us, bright and sweet, like summer itself.
Every now and then, Lachlan leaves my side, wandering away and returning with something for me to try, something toconsider. I start to think that all his talk about me getting what I want was just a ploy for him to buy something from every stall.
“Try this,” he says, holding out a little sample cup of something that looks like liquid sunshine.
I raise an eyebrow at him, then take the little cup, like one ketchup might come in, and let the stuff ooze onto my tongue.
“Honey,” Lachlan says, which makes me laugh because I can clearly tell what it is. “They only let the bees feed on Colorado wildflowers.”
It tastes just like any other honey to me, but when I say I like it, Lachlan runs off to buy two jars—one for us, and one to bring to Xeran and Phina. When he comes back, it’s with a lot more than two jars. Instead, he’s got a bagful of beeswax lip balm, honeycombs, and a little jar of pollen he claims will beveryuseful to us.
I like being here. My parents were not the kind of people who came to the market, but walking through the crowd makes me feel more connected to Silverville. There’s something about the market that strips away pomp, reducing everyone to the simple pleasures of sunlight, good food, and laughter from kids twinkling through the space.
When one runs by, almost bumping into Lachlan and apologizing quickly, his little giggle is very cute, I can’t stop myself from focusing on Lachlan, looking for some sign of either joy or disgust.
But he’s still talking about the honey, telling me what the farmer said about the fires and the bee population.
“Lachlan,” someone says.
We come to a stop, and he turns, the smile sliding off his face when he sees a man and a woman standing together, staring at us with open mouths.
It takes me a moment to figure out who it is.
His parents.
The woman has the same golden hair as him, though hers is styled in an elegant bob, that same strong jawline softened by expensive, flawless makeup. She’s wearing what I’m sure is a designer dress, paired with a string of pearls that catch in the morning light.
