Page 60 of Tossed into the Mob
“This is pretty.” Brock wound the window down as we entered Winter Brook “Oh, smell that ocean aroma. It’s so strong.”
I yanked my mate back, worried he’d topple out the window he was leaning out so far. But the smell of the ocean put me in a holiday mood.
The town itself could be described as charming, but a better description was whimsical. It gave the impression that anything was possible. I pulled up in front of our B&B painted blue and white and decorated with shells, anchors, ship wheels, and rope.
“This is cute. I love it already.” Brock bounded out of the car.
We were greeted by the owner, Felicity. “You must be the Durands.”
I caught Brock’s eye and grinned. While he kept his own name and I was fine with that, we also got a thrill being referred to by our married name, signifying we were a bonded couple.
Felicitycongratulated us on the pregnancy and chatted about the weather, the town’s history, and what she recommended we do during our five-day stay. She said nothing exciting ever happened in town, so it was the perfect place for a quiet getaway.
I was tired of adrenaline-induced excitement, and Brock had agreed to work in the La Luna Noir office while he was pregnant.We were looking forward to walks on the beach, afternoon naps, and eating fresh seafood.
As Felicity opened the door to our room, a small dog appeared and bounded toward Brock and jumped up, licking his face.
“He usually hides from guests, so he must really like you.” She picked up the dog and he snuggled into her. “Maybe it’s because you’re pregnant.”
Our room had portholes for windows, and the bedding was emblazoned with nautical motifs. Brock gushed over everything, and Felicity told us breakfast was served between six and nine. She whisked the dog out, and we were alone.
“Just think. No pack business, no drama, and me not having to prove my loyalty. It’s just us and the world’s largest rubber duck.” My mate giggled and hugged a pillow to his belly, and I kicked off my shoes and got on the bed with him.
“It feels a little decadent being in bed in the late morning.” I kissed the top of his head.
Brock curled into my side, his belly pressing into me, and said he could get used to it. Me too, but I suspected we’d both be bored if this was our life.
“I love you.”
“Love you too.”
Brock dozed off, and not wanting to look at my phone, I grabbed a book I’d started months ago and began reading. An hour later, my mate stirred and announced he was hungry. I assumed he was going to say he needed crab cakes or fish and chips, maybe garlicky shrimp.
“The sea air has me craving… ummm, pickled mussels.”
Was that something sold fresh? I got out my phone. Nope. They were available in jars, but when I checked the grocery store website, they didn’t have them. But a town fifteen minutes away did. Okay, that was doable.
“And…” Oh, he wasn’t done yet. “Fried bread with anchovy butter.”
A local seafood place had that on their menu. But my wolf said he was going to sleep so he could block out the images in his head.That’s gross. I loved anchovies and might have me some of that too.
“Anything else?” We should probably eat outside on the deck so the room didn’t smell.
“Salt-and-vinegar-drenched whelks.”
More research told me a third town, thirty minutes away, sold them at a seafood shack.
“Wanna come for a drive?”
“Nah. I plan to nap some more.” He blew me a kiss and said I was the best mate and husband he’d ever had. That was our little joke. I gave my much-repeated reply, “The only mate and husband you’ll ever have.”
“I know it's a lot.” My mate gave me a hopeful smile.
“It's what you and the baby need, and I'm going to get every item on that list.”
I took a cooler with me and headed to Inglewood to pick up the whelks. I’d get a double portion because I’d had them previously. Crossing my fingers they weren’t sold out, I picked up two servings and decided to get a third.
Then I backtracked to the second town and bought four jars of pickled mussels. Feeling proud of myself, I returned to Winter Brook and ordered the fried bread. While I was waiting, I dashed to a stall on the water’s edge and grabbed sea salt fudge because Brock loved something sweet after a meal.
