Page 32 of Dragon My Crazy

“This is Elana,” I said.

“A pleasure. I’m thrilled to have you both in my town.” Now his eyes strayed to Melly, who was in my arms, and reaching for his beard with her claws.

“A dragonlet! That’s wonderful. If you ever need some time to yourselves while you’re in town, you can always drop her off for the day at the daycare. We’ve got a good one, staffed by folks who know their way around little ones of all shapes and sizes. Scales, feathers, fur, the works.”

“I’ll keep it in mind,” I said.

“Which brings us to the real reason I wanted to talk to you. I’ve been meaning to thank you for handling the mining situation, and the logging thing too. You didn’t have to get involved, but you did.”

“They were on my mountain.”

“We are on your mountain too,” he said with a certain knowingness. “Every soul who settles in Solstice knows there’s a dragon on the mountain. You could have kicked us out too.” He paused. “But you didn’t. And after you ran those greedy fools off, you never came down to ask for thanks, or coin, or anything at all. We don’t take it for granted, Mr.…?”

“Emmett,” I said. “Just Emmett.”

I thought of Elana’s reaction to my attendants calling me “my lord.” She was right. It was outdated, but I know it would be difficult to change now that the habit was ingrained. But that didn’t mean I couldn’t start fresh with the townsfolk.

“Emmett.” He said it like he was glad to have it. “We don’t take it for granted, Emmett. I just thought you ought to hear someone say so out loud.”

“I appreciate that,” I said, and meant it more than I’d expected to.

“We also want to extend the offer for you to be our official dragon. If Darlington can have a dragon, then why can’t we?” Bjorn put both hands up. “No pressure, though. Just think about it. You can always reach me by calling the mayor’s office. It goes straight to my cell.” He patted his pocket.

“Thank you. I will think about it.”

He clapped me on the arm with astartling familiarity for a man I’d just met two minutes ago, then made a beeline for a pickup truck with the town’s logo emblazoned on the side.

“Looks like you’re already quite a hero in these parts,” Elana said as we made our way down Main Street.

“I had no idea they knew I’d stepped in.”

“You know what they say, actions speak louder than words. Now let’s hunt down a proper stroller. Maybe Natasha would know where to look first.”

Natasha fawned over Melly like she was the most precious thing she’d ever seen. We left with a mouse plushie that looked suspiciously like the one she’d toasted, the one I hadn’t replaced, because Melly grabbed on and wouldn’t let go. Natasha sent us over to the daycare, which also doubled as the town’s sole purveyor of things like strollers, car seats, and carriers.

Sure enough, we found a convertible one that flipped from a standard seat to wagon style. According to Alice, the woman we talked to, it was their best seller for shifter families.

Then, with Melly securely inside her stroller, we took a walk first down Main Street, and then through the park that led out to the lake. That scene was incredibly domestic, and my dragon rumbled happily the entire time.

After our walk around the lake, we met an eagle shifter named Noreen and her two boys. Melly played rambunctiously with them, all three children in their shifted forms, beating their wings and trying to get some air time. It would be a while before any of them truly flew.

At first, I worried they might hurt each other, but my fears were unfounded. The older boys understood that Melly was younger and played accordingly. Then we received another invitation to story time on Friday.

By the time we drove back to the castle, Melly was passed out cold. With Melly safely tucked away for her nap, I found Elanaout in the courtyard. She’d found the hammock strung between two oaks at the far edge of the terrace garden, half-hidden by the hydrangeas Nak’s wife, Dizzi, tended to. It was the only flower bed my groundskeeper was not allowed to touch.

I hadn’t used the hammock in years. Elana lay in it under the shade, one leg dangling. There was a book open on her chest, but her eyes closed and her face was serene.

I dragged a chair over and eyed the naked purple man-chest on the cover of the book. The model wore nothing but a loincloth.

“Claimed by the Hunter?” I read.

She opened one eye. “So sue me, I like my alien romance. Get your own hammock; I found this first.”

“I don’t want your hammock. I have a chair.”

“Then what do you want?”

Her question had me thinking. What did I want? It took me a while to give her an answer. And when I did, it was this: “I want to spend the rest of the afternoon with you doing absolutely nothing,”