Page 52 of A Siren Song for Christmas

Malachi put the kettle on the flames, back to Trent. Clearly the conversation was over.

Chapter

Twenty-Six

Malachi couldn’t stop moving.

He wiped down tanks and shelves he’d already ensured were spotless. He examined each plant and their tank’s water levels and salinity, even though he’d already checked on them earlier in the day. He washed his already clean tools and equipment.

Everything was in perfect order.

But still he couldn’t stop moving. He couldn’t rid himself of an itchiness beneath the skin. It had been with him all day. Or more accurately, it had been with him since he’d spoken about Forathia the night before.

For so long, Forathia had been a memory. Not known about by anyone in Anorra. Now Trent knew about him. For the first time in years, Malachi had opened up about his mate. And in doing so, his memories and feelings had risen to the surface.

His skin felt rubbed raw and his heart cracked open and exposed. He’d not realised that speaking of Forathia would have this effect.

And for some reason, he kept imagining what Forathia would think of what Malachi’s life had looked like the past tenyears. Because Forathia would have hated to see Malachi alone, enveloped in pain, and shut off from the world and other people.

Now he couldn’t shake the feeling that he’d failed Forathia abysmally. That Forathia would be disappointed in who he’d become. He let out a heavy breath and closed his eyes.

But I have a friend now. I’m no longer so reclusive.

Forathia would have adored Trent. If his mate had met Trent, he’d have seen his nervousness and would have made a joke or told some ridiculous story to make Trent laugh and put him at ease.

Malachi took off his glasses and wiped them.

What if I made Trent uncomfortable last night?

After their talk, Trent had been withdrawn, quiet, and lost in his thoughts. Trent deserved a better friend than Malachi. He should be with someone free of the shadows of grief. Trent should leave Malachi alone to his dark thoughts.

But for whatever reason, Trent liked spending time with him. And Malachi was glad of his companionship. Also, he had to admit the sex was incredible.

Still, eventually, Trent would probably grow weary of spending time with a gloomy siren horticulturist. He’d move on. Malachi wouldn’t blame him. Then he’d be alone and friendless once more.

He sighed and put his glasses back on. He just couldn’t shake this dark mood. He walked to the window and stared out. The snow fell, brushing against the glass. Figures wandered the streets, heads bowed against the wind.

A slender shadow moved towards the shop. Malachi straightened, recognising the quick gait. The door creaked opened. Trent stepped in, wiping the snow from his coat. The emporium seemed to brighten.

“You’re early.”

“Ordelia’s in-laws are taking the little ones for the night.” Trent took off his coat. “I know it’s not yet closing time, but I was hoping you wouldn’t mind me around.”

“You are always welcome here.”

Trent grinned. Then he walked to the yellow sorrow, clearly looking for Kelby.

“It’s a bit early for her to be waiting.” Malachi looked around the emporium. “She’ll be hidden amongst the plants somewhere.”

“I’m sure I can find her,” Trent said with confidence. He put down his packages and began to wander the rows.

“Good luck.” But Malachi did not like Trent’s chances. Malachi rarely spotted Kelby throughout the day.

The door opened, and a human entered.

“Afternoon,” the woman said. “Have you got any dried arame?”

“We do.” Malachi strode towards the counter. Meanwhile Trent kept searching for Kelby.