Tail Dark and Handsome: Celestial Mates (Tail and Claw Book 3) Page 7

  Thunder boomed, and she jumped.

  Maybe not.

  Mouthwatering aromas drifted out of the kitchen. Mari offered herself up for manual labor and was set chopping fruit she did not recognize for dessert. Zero’s questions continued about her favorite film, book, and so on. She made the mistake of asking Zero about his favorite music, which launched him into a mini-lecture about sociopolitical dynamics in Earth opera. He seemed disappointed that she recognized the opera names but knew none of the music.

  Winter listened as he prepared the meal but remained silent. Good. She liked him better when he brought her food and didn’t say anything.

  When the storm passed, the sun returned, and the roads cleared, Winter offered to drive her down to the village.

  “I can call a transport,” she said.

  “I know how to be a good host, so be quiet and let me concentrate,” he snapped.

  Charming.

  The entire trip, he clenched the steering wheel like he was moments from losing his cool. Rather than focus on how miserable her presence made him, she studied the landscape. The storm had made no impact at all. It must have been the location on the mountain that made the storm seem so vicious.

  When he dropped her off at the hotel’s entrance as the sun neared the horizon, she honestly never expected to see Winter Cayne again.

  Nor did she want to.

  Chapter 4

  Not the pop star we need, but the one we deserve. Rebel Cayne has faced criticism for her comments on the Talmar interim government.

  -Tal Tattler

  Marigold

  As it happened, they saw each other the next day. Zero dropped into the chair next to her during dinner, taking her by surprise.

  “Is it weird when you’re talking to someone and they keep stepping back? Maintaining eye contact is important in communication, but if they unconsciously increase the distance, miscommunication can occur,” Zero said. “So I should step closer? To prevent miscommunication? Why would someone call me weird for being on the side of mutual understanding?”

  Mari dabbed her lips with the napkin to hide her smile.

  “Oh, how marvelous,” Valerian cooed, practically vibrating in her seat with excitement. “And you are?”

  “Zero Cayne, you are being rude,” a stern voice said. Zero twisted in the chair, ears flattened. His father loomed over him, frowning with his absurdly handsome frowny face. His eyes were dark again from the protective lenses.

  Mari’s shoulders went back, and she sat a bit straighter, feeling the need to defend Zero. He was a kid, an awkward kid with more enthusiasm than common sense, she thought. Clearly, Zero got all the charm in the family.

  “Zero is always a delight. Mother, these are my rescuers from the storm. Zero and Winter Cayne. My mother, Valerian Moonquest,” Mari said.

  “We’ve only just ordered,” Valerian said, her eyes sparkling. Mari knew that look. It was her meddling look. “Would you care to join us?”

  Oh no. She would not let Mr. Brooding Good Looks ruin her night. Bad enough that Valerian kept asking about her mysterious rescuer, like it was something swoon-worthy and not her being soaked to the bone and covered in mud while he snarled.

  “I’m sure they have other plans,” Mari murmured.

  “Nope,” Zero said, popping the sound. “It was my turn to pick where to eat. Lucky running into you, huh? So, is it weird?”

  “We should let the females enjoy their meal,” Winter said. Irritation radiated off him as his tail twitched behind him.

  “Nonsense. I’d love to meet Marigold’s new friends,” Valerian said, voice dripping with delight.

  “Marigold?” Zero asked.

  “Mother—”

  “Where’s your sense of fun?” Valerian retorted.

  Left at the altar, Mari wanted to answer. She didn’t want new friends. She wanted to eat her dinner and finish with a slice of the lemon cake she saw in the display case as they walked in. The piles of fluffy white whipped cream on top convinced her it would be the greatest thing she ever put in her mouth.

  “Fine,” Mari said with reluctance. Distracting herself with a snoopy teen and his grump of a father would be smarter would be better than eating her emotions.

  Blast it, she could have her lemon cake and play nice.

  “There’s my Fun-Showers Marigold,” Valerian cooed, then motioned for the waiter and explained that new friends would join their table.

  Winter sat in the unoccupied chair to Mari’s left. “Fun shower? I do not wish to know.”

  “A play on my darling little flower’s name. Sunshowers in the Marigold Field. Isn’t that the best name you ever heard? It came to me when I was meditating. She was such a difficult pregnancy, always pressing on my bladder. Hmm, you look familiar.”

  “I have that face,” Winter replied in a bored tone, like his appearance was so bland as to blend into crowds. Mari disagreed, finding his strong nose and profile to be striking. A nose like that refused to blend.

  “Indeed,” Valerian agreed. “Have I told you about the time my Marigold snuck into my makeup box and smeared it all over her face? Adorable, but of course I haven’t told you. We just met.”

  “Mother,” Mari hissed. “Give them a minute to look at the menu before you whip out the baby photos.”

  “I didn’t bring them with me. Should I have packed them?” Her lips quirked at the corners. She turned to Zero. “And no, dear, I don’t believe that’s weird. I think it’s a marvelous way to let auras mingle. You can’t really know a person until you’ve felt their aura, I always say. Yours is lovely, by the way. High energy but not frantic.”

  Zero’s eyes went wide. The waiter arrived, bringing drinks and a basket of bread. Valerian stirred a sweetener into her cold beverage. She continued, “And Zero is such an unusual name. Does it have a special meaning for you? I already told you about my Marigold. She arrived too serious. I wanted her to have a name that inspired her to blossom, to open herself to the universe.”

  “I like the mathematical concept. It’s nothing but also something, or the absence but it still counts. Ha. Get it?” His ears flicked, then pressed down when no one laughed at the joke. “I just think it’s interesting.”

  “Fascinating,” Valerian said.

  “It’s not a comment on my self-esteem,” Zero added.

  Valerian went on about how she knew that from Zero’s aura. Mari couldn’t tell if he was genuinely interested or too polite to stop her. Winter made various noises of discontent.

  Genuinely interested, she decided. Zero seemed like sunshine compared to his grumpy father.

  “I apologize. I had no intention of intruding on your meal,” he said.

  “No worries. I think my mother is bored of only talking to me,” Mari replied.

  Winter watched Zero and Valerian for a moment. The lenses gave his eyes a dark, flat appearance. She understood why he had to wear them, but regretted not seeing his icy blue eyes. They were interesting, like his nose. Strong, almost alarming in their intensity, but they suited his face.

  “He likes you,” Winter said.

  “I like him,” she replied, because it was true. His endearing awkwardness charmed her, especially how his mouth blurted out his thoughts before his brain could process them.

  “Sunshower?”

  “And that’s why I go by Mari. My brother has it worse.”

  “And his name is Wandering Through an Asteroid Belt?”

  She huffed at the sarcasm. “Joseph,” she said and pulled an exaggerated face. “Can you even imagine? Our entire lives it’s been, ‘Why is Marigold such a creative name and you’re plain old Joseph?’ Poor Joe.”

  Winter’s ears twitched to the side, as if listening for something behind him. “Human names are so strange.”

  Mari chortled. Joseph’s lackluster name came down to the fact that Valerian did a star chart for the unborn Joseph and realized he would be a capricious child. He needed a serious name to ground him, much like she claimed Marigold needed a lighthearted name to help her blossom.

  Mothers.

  “Tell me, are you on holiday?” Valerian asked as their meals arrived.

  “Research,” Winter said.

  “Dad has bots. They’re okay, I guess. I’m interested in the temple ruins. Did you know that we know nothing about who built the temple? And it’s not like, you know, only stones. Neolithic? It’s brick and mortar, which requires architecture, and it predates colonization,” Zero added. “I suppose you’re on holiday. Everyone seems to be on holiday here.”

  “Yes,” Mari said quickly, because she did not want her mother to speak the words that immediately came out of her mouth.

  “Marigold’s on her honeymoon,” Valerian announced proudly.

  Mari kicked Valerian’s foot under the table. She wasn’t subtle, and she gave zero fucks.

  “Ow!”

  Zero said, “Honeymoon is a funny word. What does it mean?” He repeated it a few more times, dragging out the O sound.

  “It’s when you get married and go on vacation to…”

  “Mother!”

  “To get to know each other,” Valerian said, rolling her eyes.

  Zero’s gaze bounced between Mari and her mother, curious. Winter, however, seemed to pick up on exactly what went unsaid and who wasn’t at the table. “You’re mated?” Zero asked.

  The fork hovered at her mouth. Mari remained motionless, unsure how to answer. She could soften the story about how Tomas left her for another, that he followed his heart along the path of true love, and ignore those pesky details about taking her money and leaving her in debt to people you don’t want to owe money to. Valerian would know she glossed over details, but really, being nice about the failure of her engagement only helped Tomas.
/>
  Mari did not have the energy to spare being nice to that man, and somehow, it felt right to be honest. Between the curious twitch to Zero’s ears and the scowl on Winter’s face, she wanted no misunderstandings between them. It made no sense. She barely knew the father and kit. She owed them nothing, much less the truth about her heartbreak and humiliation. Still…

  “My fiancé ran off with my friend on our wedding day and took all my money with them. Apparently, he owed money to the wrong person. I don’t know if he really loved me, because I’m not exactly rolling in the dough, or if he had to run to stay ahead of…” she searched for the correct word, “debt collectors.” Everything had come out in a rush. The tightness in her chest eased once she got the words out. “I don’t know him, and I think I never really knew him at all. This trip was paid for, and I just couldn’t bear going back…” Her voice trailed off, unsure how to express how the sheets still smelled of Tomas’ shampoo and soap.

  The table went silent. Were they judging her? Of course they were.

  “I don’t miss him. I refuse,” she added. Her heart hurt, yes, but considerably less so after a week. In a month, she’d forget the sound of his voice and question what drew her to him. He was good-looking, but in an average way, so it wasn’t an overwhelming attraction. Charm? He made her feel like she mattered, and it felt nice to be important to someone.

  Her emotional neediness made her vulnerable and embarrassed. She hated that far more than she hated Tomas.

  Zero fidgeted with his silverware. Winter stared at something over her shoulder.

  “That male sounds terrible because you are perfect,” Zero said.

  “Thank you,” she said, not expecting the compliment. Any lingering embarrassment she felt disappeared. “Tomas did us both a favor, I think.”

  The server cleared their plates and brought the much-anticipated lemon slice. The whipped topping melted on her tongue like a dream, and the cake was tangy and bright. Perfect.

  “So you want to be mated?” Zero’s spoon hung above his bowl of frozen cream and fruit.

  “I’m fine on my own.”

  “Your star chart says you’ll be mated soon,” Valerian said, speaking over Mari and giving a not-so-subtle look to Winter. “That’s why I believe it was Tomas, but you never know who the universe will put in your path.”

  So subtle.

  Mari could murder her mother, and no one would blame her. She knew what Valerian would say once they got back to their cabin. “Oh, he’s such a good father. And he’s traveling in a custom-built starship, which means he has money. He’s such a catch, Marigold. Don’t let this one slip away.”

  Okay, fine. Winter was all those things. She had enjoyed their time playing King’s Table, listening to father and son tease each other while they waited out the storm. If she was a little more coldhearted, she might figure out a way to extract credits from the obviously wealthy man, but no.

  “Don’t you agree?” Valerian asked Winter.

  The man blinked. “About?”

  “That the universe gives us what we need. If it brings us an opportunity, we should grab it with both hands.” Valerian practically put a giant For Sale sign on Mari.

  Aging daughter. Lightly used. Free to a good home.

  Ugh.

  If Mari smothered Valerian in her sleep with a pillow, it’d totally be justifiable. She should have never gone on this trip. She should have looked for a new apartment or a new job, something that’d take her far away from Olympus Station and the lingering memories of Tomas. Instead, hiding away and licking her wounds during what should have been her honeymoon seemed like the worst idea possible.

  “I’m fine on my own,” Mari repeated, staring daggers at her mother.

  “I just think—”

  “Mother, no.”

  “But you need to be open—”

  A harsh glare silenced Valerian. The planets had to be aligned because that was the first time that actually worked.

  The noise level of the restaurant diminished enough for Mari to notice the music. She knew that song. Older, she hadn’t heard it in years, but it had been burned into her memory. While in the hospital, the girl in the bed next to hers played it constantly on her little radio.

  Mari hated it. The peppy, happy beat and bubbly lyrics reminded her of the constant headaches and delirium of the sickness. If she never heard it again, it’d be too soon.

  Judging from the look on Winter’s face, he felt the same.

  Winter

  That song.

  That damned song.

  Recognition gleamed in the older female’s eyes.

  No.

  “I knew you looked familiar,” she said, and then stood, the chair scraping against the floor. She lifted her glass. “A toast to Rebel, the voice of her generation.”

  Then she started singing loudly. The table next to them joined. And another. Winter felt eyes on him. Perhaps they recognized him, judged him, and blamed him. Many did.

  Zero squirmed uneasily in his seat, his ears flat.

  Enough. This was not about Winter. He needed to shield Zero.

  Winter stood abruptly, knocking back the chair. The watchful crowd focused on him instead of his kit. His jaw worked as accusations and bitter reports burned at the tip of this tongue, but he said nothing. No doubt someone in the restaurant would record this, and his tantrum would be on a media network within hours.

  Marigold watched him, her dark eyes large with surprise. The older female frowned, as if confused.

  This was a mistake. His tail lashed behind him. He should not have let Zero drag him to this hotel for a meal, and he should not have let his kit invite themselves to the females’ table.

  “Come,” he snapped and left. Zero followed.

  “Well, someone needs to cleanse their aura,” the older female said with a sniff.

  Winter flexed his fingers, claws out, but he walked away.

  At the front desk, he paid the bill. Zero stuck to his side but did not speak until they exited the building. Pressing a command on his comm unit, he called a vehicle to take them back up the mountain, though he was furious enough to march the entire way.

  “Winter, wait!” Marigold dashed out of the front entrance to them. “I don’t know what happened, but I apologize. My mother comes on too strong, but her heart is in the right place.”

  “That female is intolerable. She makes a spectacle of herself for acclaim.” He knew her type, always seeking attention and affirmation. Nothing would ever be enough. They were endless black holes, sucking the air out of those around them.

  The female jerked her chin up. “If we’re so intolerable, you should have left us alone. We were having dinner when you showed up at our table. No one invited you.”

  “False. Your mother invited us to join you.”

  She huffed, telling Winter he was correct and had won the argument. Her tiny little human nostrils flared, and she nearly vibrated with anger.

  “Fine. You wanna be a jerk? Be a jerk.” She glanced at Zero, standing off to the side, and her expression softened. Instinctively, he moved to block Zero from her view. Her eyes narrowed before she tossed her hands in the air, then left.

  Winter definitely did not watch her ass as she stomped away, and if he did, it was because her lack of a tail was unnatural, not because he liked the jiggle of it under her dress. Or wanted to know what it would be like to hold a cheek in either hand and squeeze. Or that he remembered how it felt to carry her in his arms yesterday.

  Winter knew that female’s type: trouble waiting to happen.

  “Father, that was rude.”

  Rude?

  Winter paused, fingers clenched into a fist. “What is rude,” he snarled, his temper finally getting the better of him, “is speaking of Rebel as if they know her. They do not! How dare that female speak as if she knew her. How dare she.”

  He paced, repeating the phrase. Claws out, he itched to sink them into something pliant and rip. Cloth or flesh, he did not care, so long as it was destructive.

  “Dad. Dad. Winter.” Zero repeated his name, each call growing frustrated and frantic. “This is stupid. You’re not the only one who loved her!”