Page 20 of Horn in My Side

“It’s not that I’m objectifying you or anything.

” She grabbed her phone out from the drawer under the counter.

“Sure, your photos have been getting a lot of hearts and comments from single women, but they’ve been boosting our algorithm, so more people are seeing and following our account.

Families, couples, and even people who own non-magical creatures have been coming in too.

We’ve had ten sign-ups for our monthly subscription box and they’re not even from Dewberry Falls.

Sales are up fifteen per cent in the last five days. ”

“Fifteen per cent?” He couldn’t believe it.

“Yeah.” Jasmine’s thumb raised to tap on the screen.

“Wait.” He gently wrapped his hand around her wrist. “Don’t.”

A dark eyebrow raised. “Don’t?”

“Don’t delete the photos.”

“No?”

“I mean . . . I guess it’s fine,” he muttered. “You can’t exactly control what other people are commenting nor are you forcing people to buy stuff they don’t need.”

“Yeah, they’re just finding us via the algorithm.”

“And it’s not like I’m naked in any of the photos.”

Her eyes widened and he swore her pulse jumped under his palms. Which reminded him that he still held her delicate wrist, so he dropped his hand to his side.

“Er, yeah.” She lowered her gaze. “You’re fully clothed in all of them, going about your day.”

“It’s fine if you want to keep up the pictures you already have. Just tell me if you’re taking and posting more photos of me, okay?”

“Sure. Of c-course,” she stammered. “I didn’t mean . . . Again, I’m sorry for violating your privacy like that.”

“Apology accepted.”

“I appreciate it.” She clucked her tongue. “Oh, I almost forgot, there’s something I wanted your help with.”

Yes, Jasmine.

Of course, Jasmine.

Do with me as you please, Jasmine.

Gaku help him, he was a goner.

“Er, sure.”

“Let’s go upstairs.”

He followed her up to the second level, doing his best not to stare at her shapely ass.

He remembered how perfectly outlined it was when she wore those slacks to the assembly.

And that frilly and proper blouse, along with her hair in a bun, stirred up all kinds of naughty secretary fantasies.

Mal had to remind himself many times they had an audience, otherwise, he would have been sporting a semi the entire time.

She led him to the back corner to a room marked “private.” Jasmine had previously explained to him that this was their hatchery.

As Fantastic Tails did not do any breeding, purchasing eggs and hatching saved them a lot of money.

Tanks with incubating lights lined several shelves on the wall, though currently, only one was occupied with a clutch of basilisk eggs.

Jasmine gestured to the middle of the room, where a single wooden crate lay on top of a table.

“This,” she began as she took the lid off, “is what I need your help with.”

A single egg lay inside the box, resting on a bed of hay. Slightly smaller than a football and covered in pearly blue scales, it glinted under the overhead lamp.

“What is it?”

“It’s a carcinos egg,” Jasmine said.

He frowned. “Really?”

Carcinos were basically crabs, except they had four claws, and instead of a hard shell, their bodies were covered in beautiful shiny scales that came in a variety of colors.

Jasmine continued. “One of our suppliers said he had an extra one and gave it to me for fifty per cent off. They’re expensive to purchase as full adults, so I thought I’d try to hatch one.”

“I see.”

She cocked her head to the side. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. I mean . . .” He leaned in for a closer look.

“A couple years back, I helped this guy install a massive custom-made aquarium in his house. Turns out, he was one of those crazy collectors. Loved carcinos. Already had two other tanks filled with them. One day, he showed me about a dozen or so eggs he was incubating.” He paused.

“I don’t recall the eggs themselves being scaly.

” They had been smooth, like a normal egg.

“Or this big. They were also orange, not blue.”

“According to the internet, carcinos come in all kinds of colors and sizes. Maybe this is a different species?”

“Perhaps.” Though his gut told him something else.

Still, he didn’t want to contradict her, lest he end up having to apologize again.

Besides, when that guy told him how much a single carcinos cost, his jaw had nearly hit the floor.

Selling this one carcinos would probably pay their water bill for a couple of months.

“Okay, so what do you need my help with?”

“I don’t think any of our hatching tanks will be big enough for this one.” Tapping her chin, she slowly spun around, looking at each tank in turn. “Maybe . . . Do you think you could build a bigger one? And I’d like to put it downstairs.”

“Downstairs? Why?”

“I’ve been scrolling my feed on Picstagram to check out what other pet shops are doing on their socials.

” She snapped her fingers. “I thought, what if we did a series of posts to follow the hatching process? It’ll be good content, plus if we set up the tank downstairs, people could come visit and see the egg for themselves.

Think of the foot traffic.” Her eyes shone with excitement.

“We might be able to find a buyer once it hatches too.”

“That’s not a bad idea.” Genius idea, actually.

“And I won’t have to post so many photos of you,” she said with a laugh. “So, what do you say, Mal? Will you build a hatching tank downstairs?”

“Yes, Jasmine, I’ll build you a hatching tank.”

Oh, he was a goner all right.

“Yay!” She clapped her hands excitedly. “Come, I have a few ideas.” Before he could stop her, she picked up the box and trotted out of the hatchery room. Once downstairs, she settled it on the floor in an empty space between the pens. “There you go,” she cooed.

Mal blinked.

What in Vorlak’s name was that?

The egg had wiggled as Jasmine spoke to it.

“Did you see—”

Jasmine spoke at the same time. “So, what do you think of building it right—”

Ding ding dong!

Before Jasmine could start her welcome spiel, a booming voice rang out. “Hey, Jasmine. Hey, Zaddy Orc.”

Mal’s blood pressure skyrocketed.

This fucking guy.

“Kap,” Jasmine greeted, waving him over. “What are you doing here? It’s like ten o’clock in the morning.”

“Yeah, had to work overtime today, big case.” He yawned, scratching at the fur on his neck. “Those pics of you are fire, Mal. Glad you finally took my suggestion, Jasmine.”

“Suggestion?” Mal gritted his teeth, looking accusingly at Jasmine.

“Kap’s been telling me to be more active on social media, to help promote the shop,” she explained. “So? Did you solve the case?”

“Still working on it. But I just remembered I haven’t thanked you for dinner the other night.” He held up a white to-go cup in his hand. “So, I got you your favorite brew.”

“Aww, thanks. That’s sweet of you,” she said, accepting the cup.

“No worries, I owe you, like, twenty more of those for all the times you’ve cooked. Mal, you should join us sometime.”

“Join you?” Now that had taken Mal aback. If he went out on a date with Jasmine, he would never invite another man to be a third wheel.

“Yeah. Jasmine’s an amazing cook.”

“I’m just okay.” She waved a hand in the air, as if swatting away Kap’s compliment.

“You’re too modest. Vrig used to come too. He loved Jasmine’s arroz caldo. It’s like a rice porridge with ginger and scallions . . . yum.” He rubbed his stomach. “Anyway, I need to crash, guys. Have a great day, yeah?”

“Bye, Kap,” Jasmine said as he headed out the door.

That bolt that had seemingly lodged itself in Mal’s chest since the day he’d met Kap loosened even more.

He and Jasmine appeared close, but not in the romantic-relationship way close.

They didn’t hug, much less give each other a kiss goodbye.

When Kap didn’t come back to Jasmine’s after that first time—he could now admit that he waited and listened for his car every night—Mal just thought maybe he didn’t spend the night during the weeks he worked the evening shift at his job.

But seeing them now, they acted more like siblings than lovers.

“He’s a tree giant.”

“What?” His head snapped toward Jasmine.

“You’d been staring so intently at him, I thought you might burn a hole through his head,” she said, chuckling. “People around here who first meet Kap are always wondering what he is, but are usually too polite to ask. But really, he’s cool about that stuff.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever met a tree giant.” Nor had he heard of them either.

“Well, technically he’s half tree giant because his dad’s human.

But, tree giants, or kapre, live in the forests in the Philippines.

Kap’s grandparents immigrated here, but his mom was born in Chicago and so was he.

It’s weird, really. Their kind don’t usually leave their homes, much less the country. ”

Weird, indeed.

“I was pretty shocked to see him here in Dewberry Falls. Afraid even, because tree giants aren’t known to be sociable. But anyway, we’ve been friends ever since we met.”

Just friends?

“Uh, yeah?” Her eyebrows drew together. “Just friends.”

Mal mentally slapped himself on the forehead, as he realized he’d said that out loud. “Er, yeah, that’s good. Good to have friends.” Relief, however, sluiced through him and that bolt lodged in his chest disappeared. “Er, so, I should start measuring the space for the hatching tank.”

“Yeah, sounds good. Thanks again. I should put this back to keep it safe. If my calculations are correct, it’ll be a few more weeks before it hatches.”

“Here, let me do that,” he said, picking up the box. He followed her back upstairs to the hatchery room and replaced it on the table. “Will it be okay in here?”

“Yeah, they’re surprisingly easy to take care of. It just takes a lot of waiting. My supplier said we can it move around, as long as we’re careful.” She reached into the box and adjusted the hay under the egg, her hand brushing over the scaly surface.

What the—

He could have sworn the scales on the egg glimmered under her touch, but it had been so fast, so he wasn’t sure.

“Did you see that?”

She stared up at him. “See what?”

“Nothing.” Must’ve been a trick of the light.

She brushed her hands together. “Okay, Clawed is safe.”

“Clawed?”

“Yeah, that’s what I was thinking of naming him. You know, like the French name ‘Claude’ but spelled with a W-E-D: a play on ‘claw’.” She shaped her fingers into crab claws, snapping them together. “Or Clawdia, if she’s a girl.”

“Will we be able to tell?”

She laughed, her voice like tinkling bells that made his insides all warm. “We’ll have to wait, I guess. But, Mal?”

“Yeah?”

Brown doe eyes softened. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

She flashed him one final smile before she left.

Yup. Fucking goner.