Page 122 of Inked in Bloom
“Now I just need to figure out how to ask my parents to watch the girls while omitting the details as to why.” I sigh, truly hating this. There’s no way they can know their daughter’s mate is missing. They’d never be able to keep that from Corrigan.
“I could stay with the girls.”
“Really?”
“I’m here almost every day anyway.” Monroe shrugs and goes back to stirring the soup. “All I need is some instructions on bedtime and anything else I should know about.”
“If you’re sure. It would be a huge help.” And the girls will be so excited. It might lessen Juniper’s apprehension about me leaving. But the last thing I want Monroe to do is take this on out of some misplaced sense of obligation.
“I am,” she says, and glints of excitement twinkle like stars through our bond. “It would be nice to get some quality time with them. Think of all the crafts you’ll come home to.”
“Go wild.” I chuckle, working on the grilled cheeses. The vise of stress I’ve been trying to pry open since Fate’s visit unclenches from around my rib cage. “I’m thinking of doing some redecorating anyway.”
Her hip knocks into mine. “You’re calm about it now. Wait until you have a blush-pink wall in your office.”
“I’ve come to have a very special appreciation for blush pink.” I flip each sandwich, watching Monroe out of the corner of my eye. “In fact, I think it would go perfectly in my office, kitchen, or bedroom, for that matter.”
“Oh really?” The pink on her cheeks deepens, a shade I do so enjoy. “Maybe I should stay the night so we can weigh the options?”
I nearly fumble the bread I’m flipping but manage to catch it on the corner of the griddle.
Smooth, Briar.
“Besides, I can help with the girls’ bedtime so they’re comfortable with me here before you go,” she adds.
They’re more than comfortable. They want you here as much as I do. Maybe more.
I clear my throat before I scare her off, though I know there’s no way to conceal my excitement. “How very reasonable of you, Dr. Tanner.”
We finish getting dinner together. Monroe wrangles the girls to the table while I set out the food. Afterward, it’sbaths and bedtime. We divide and conquer, and I answer any questions Monroe has as we go.
She hasn’t spent the night since Juni had her accident, which has left minimal time for…well, all the things I’ve imagined doing with her. I try not to let them hop across my mind and distract me until the girls are all in bed and we’re both standing in the living room.
“Thanks again for agreeing to stay with the girls.” I wrap my arms around her waist, settling them on the base of her spine.
“Of course.” Her lashes drop and crimson splashes her cheeks. “I’m excited for it.”
She’s been here nearly every day for the last few months so I could be here for the girls. Every night when she leaves, I wish she’d stay, but I’m too much of a coward to ask because I know deep down what I want is not one night but all of them. These glimpses of what our daily life could look like only solidify my feelings. I’d hoped they might do the same for her.
So many springs I moved through the mortal world as a rabbit, surrounded by predators—beast and human alike. But there’s no greater predator than fear. It traps even the most ferocious and bold, turning them into prey.
And right now, the idea of being rejected again by Monroe strikes a fear so deep in me that I can’t bring myself to say anything at all. Even though it’s the truth.
I turn out the lights in the kitchen and living room. There’s a gentle brush of fingers along my shoulder, and I spin and find Monroe in a soft creamy nightgown with pearl buttons going down the front. “What time do you normally set your alarm for?”
“No need.” I gesture toward the girls’ room. “We have four very loud alarm clocks around here that’ll be going off in”—I glance up at the clock and purse my lips—“about five to seven hours, depending.”
“Good. That gives us plenty of time.” The air sweetens and Monroe’s eyes fill with mirth. She undoes one button, then another, matching the tempo of each step backward. “I’ve had this recent hankering for marshmallow creme.”
The lapels of her nightgown open, exposing the inner swells of her breasts and her mate mark.
My cock twitches against my jeans.
Mine.
She undoes another button, thumbing over her nipples the moment she steps into my office. The image of them glistening with my cum, Monroe licking every morsel like it’s the best delicacy in the world, jumps into my mind. And thanks to the bond we share, I know she really does crave it.
Me.
