Page 9 of Misbehaving With Minotaurs (Haven Ever After #8)

“Done,” he says simply. No twenty questions about where we’re going and why. No thoughts about how he’s not really into the same sort of things I’m into .

He cocks his head to the side. “Did you not want me to agree?”

I laugh and pat his arm. “Just lost in thought for a second. I should warn you that my neighbors come as well. Ignatius, who’s about to turn seven, is particularly excited to introduce you to his new hellhound puppies.”

Manorin’s dark brows rise. “Hellhounds? That is interesting. Well, I can’t wait. Arkan’s scheduled meetings most of tomorrow, but I’m free all night.”

I clasp my hands together and force a big smile. “Excellent. Dinner’s at six in the private dining room at the back of the house. Come find us when you’re free.”

“Will do,” he says with a smile, nipping at his lower lip as he smiles at me.

His scent wraps me up again, tugging at desires I’ve kept mostly dormant since Wesley. I’d hoped to start dating again with someone safe, someone easy. Vikand is all of those things.

“Good night, Manorin.” I smile up at him.

But as I turn to go, the scent of his obvious attraction follows me, stoking long-dead flames. Annabelle ripples the carpet runner, the kitty cat timer in the kitchen dinging incessantly.

“Oh shit, the quiche!” I shout as I scurry toward the kitchen.

“ H e’s like… really hot,” Thea Hector whisper-hisses as she hands her triplet, Wren, a martini over my island the following evening.

I roll my eyes and purse my lips, barely holding back a smile as Wren thoughtfully sips the martini, smacking her pink-painted lips together.

Thea takes a loud sip from her glass, tossing blond waves over her shoulder. “He was meeting with Shepherd and Alo earlier, and I might have snooped because, well, why not, and, good lord, he’s one hundred percent beefcake.” She bats her dark lashes at me. “Don’t you think, Catherine?”

I shrug. “I hadn’t noticed, girls.”

The triplets’ aunt Lou, who’s about their age, gives me a carefully neutral look, even though the edges of her lips curl upward.

Morgan, the third triplet, snorts and swats my side as she layers cheese on top of a tray full of penne alla vodka. “You’re telling me this hot, handsome minotaur is staying at the Annabelle. And, oh, he’s single, by the way, which I know because Abe told me. But you haven’t happened to notice?”

I sigh. “My focus is elsewhere, as you might remember.” I give the girls a sassy look. They’ve been front and center to my Vikand pursuit for a while now. I swear it’s at least half of what we discuss during “family dinner" every week.

Morgan grabs the pasta pan and turns, slipping it into the oven. Annabelle kindly closes the door, ensuring it doesn’t slam as Morgan returns to the island and sits next to Lou.

She throws a rag over her shoulder, then crosses her arms, an uncharacteristically serious look on her face.

“Listen, we’re not trying to be all up in your dating business, but we are highly invested in seeing you happy.

And obviously you’re interested in dating because, Lord knows, you’ve given Vikand all the signals he can possibly get.

He’s just not…”—she waves a hand around—“picking them up.”

I blow out a breath. “Actually, we went out yesterday, thank you very much.”

I don’t know why I said that, because, the moment I do, the triplets pepper me with a barrage of questions so fast and furious, I find myself scattered trying to remember the first of them.

“Funny,” Lou says with a saucy look. “I could swear I saw Vikand in his office at about that time yesterday afternoon. ”

The triplets’ heads swivel toward me as I try not to look surprised at Lou’s comment.

I’m mercifully saved when Alo, Iggy and Miriam enter through the back door. Iggy holds a hellhound pup under each arm, their little bums dangling as he zips through the air and greets the triplets.

Thea and Wren ooh and ah over the puppies, but Morgan turns to me with a motherly look. “Don’t think you’re off the hook that easily, Catherine. I wanna know what happened. Was it fab? Was it not fab? What’s he like in bed?”

I snort out a laugh at that. “Not all succubi sleep with a partner on the first date, you know.”

“Oh, but some do.” Manorin ducks down to enter the kitchen, his tall horns nearly scraping the roof. He shoots a wink at Morgan and Lou.

I jolt and freeze.

The room goes silent as Thea and Wren spin on the barstools. I can’t see their faces, but Thea drops the chips she’s holding in one hand. They clatter to the floor as Manorin watches their descent, a pleased-looking smirk on his face.

Perhaps it wasn’t my best idea to introduce the Hectors to him. He’s going to charm them to death and th?—

Well, isn’t that exactly why I invited him here?

Although, I’m not sure how public he’s planning to be about why he’s in Ever for the next few weeks.

I assume he wouldn’t want news that he’s hunting around to get back to Hearth HQ.

Although, if it did, beloved as he is there, he could probably wrangle a pay increase.

Maybe that’s his end game anyway.

“You must be Manorin,” Wren says smoothly, standing and putting her hand out for him.

Manorin’s never been to the human world that I know of, but he’s interacted with enough humans in his role, so he takes her hand easily, shaking it with care .

“You’ve gotta be the Hector triplets.” He glances to Alo. “You I’ve met, so this must be your kiddo and lovely mate?”

Miriam rounds the island as Iggy settles on her shoulder, nearly dropping one of the hellhounds. Minnie lumbers tenderly after Miriam, snuffling at Miriam’s wings as if to say “give them back to me!”

Miriam takes the puppies and looks at me. “Is it okay if I set them down here, Catherine? They just peed outside, and somehow, they’re already potty-trained.”

Manorin drops to a knee and lifts his hand out toward the closest puppy. It yips and growls at him, then just as quickly steps forward and tentatively licks his enormous fur-covered finger. He remains quiet as Minnie joins him.

I think it surprises us all when she flops down at his feet, rolling over and kicking her back legs up in the air for a scratch.

Manorin laughs, a deep, hearty noise that pebbles my wayward nipples—nipples that should be misbehaving for Vikand when I see him next.

The enormous minotaur reaches down, careful not to poke anyone with his long horns. He rubs Minnie’s belly with rough, thorough intensity. Her tongue lolls from her mouth, and Morgan looks over at me suggestively, nostrils flared as she attempts to hold back a smile.

Iggy hops off Miriam’s shoulder and flaps toward Manorin, landing on one of his horns. Crimson eyes flick up to the young gargoyle and crinkle in the corners, even as Alo rounds Miriam and grabs his young son.

“Ig. You can’t just land on monsters, kiddo. It’s not super polite, right?”

“I don’t mind,” Manorin offers, patting his horn. “If you wanna come back, I’ll tell you all about the pit hells in my home haven of Pine Gulch.”

Iggy shoves out of Alo’s hands and zips back to Manorin’s horn, alighting on it and grabbing the tip with one hand as he wraps his tail around it.

Manorin stands and moves to the side of the island where nobody stands, crossing both arms as he focuses upward on Iggy. “Pine Gulch is also here in America. Have you learned what human state it’s in?”

Iggy nods and hops up and down excitedly. “Yeah! Montana! Big sky country.”

Manorin snorts out a laugh that jiggles his nose ring.

“That’s right. It’s so big and wide open, all you see is sky.

Anyhow, our sheriff had a hellhound for a while, and some dumba—err, idiot—brought a pit bull with him when he moved to Pine Gulch from the human world.

One thing led to another, and now Pine Gulch has a pack of pit hells. Half pit bull, half hellhound.”

“That’s genius!” Iggy shouts. “What are they like? Do they have fire rivulets? Do they bond to monsters like Minnie did to me?”

“They’re a bunch of big sweeties, honestly,” Manorin says with another deep laugh. “A little smaller than hellhounds and a bit louder. They talk a lot, and they’re sillier, as a general rule. They do bond like hellhounds.”

“Aww…” Iggy’s tone is tender. He glances over the island to Alo and Miriam. “Can we get one?”

Miriam shakes her head. “Kiddo, our house is full of hellhounds right now, and I can already tell they’re going to get into everything. Four doggos is probably enough, don’t you think?”

Iggy scowls and rolls his eyes, peppering Manorin with more questions about the pit hells.

Manorin answers each question carefully until the kitty cat timer dings to let me know the baked penne alla vodka is ready.

I shoo everyone out of the kitchen and toward my small personal dining room just off the kitchen hallway. They flood noisily out of the room as I release a sigh and turn to the oven, grabbing a kitchen mitt .

“How can I help, Cath?”

Manorin’s deep voice wraps tight around my body. I’d swear it was just yesterday he and I dated, because those memories feel so recent, even though there’s a lifetime of experiences and heartaches between then and now.

Opening the oven, I reach in and grab the pasta, setting it on the countertop.

Annabelle opens the fridge and slings a packet of parmesan cheese at Manorin, who easily catches it and unclips the chip clip holding it closed.

He jerks his head at the bubbling dish. “How much?”

“Just spread it all on there while I grab a couple bottles of wine.” I turn and duck down to the wine cooler built into the island, selecting a few reds—a tempranillo and a sangiovese—I think would go nicely with the dish.

When I rise, Manorin’s got the dish in one hand—no potholder to be seen—and he’s smiling pleasantly at me. “I’ll just take this to the table?”

“Yeah…” I trail off as I stare at my only potholder, still sitting on the countertop.

“What?”

I shrug. “I forgot you were so?—”