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Rai understood most of the words Poppy had said, but he was still confused. “And?”

Triumph filled Poppy’s eyes. “And Brendan’s gone into hiding.

Deleted all his social media, taken his books off Amazon.

Beaumont Book Group has been scrambling, trying to both distance themselves from Brendan and declare their utter disbelief at his dastardly deceit.

And half of their regular authors have already taken flight for less tainted publishers, with more to follow as soon as they can find a loophole in their contracts.

” She grinned down at him. “Some of them have in fact come groveling back to their former editor, one Poppy Farber, insisting that they were lied to—which, to be fair, they were—and could they please, please, please beg of said former editor a comprehensive edit of their latest work before their agent submits it to a more reputable publisher?”

Poppy’s glee made Rai’s heart sing. “I still do not understand.”

She laughed and fell into his arms, water splashing about them.

“Poppy gets to edit novels for industry standard rates. Poppy is no longer on the brink of destitution. Poppy has more than enough work to live on and still has plenty of time to paint. And on top of that, Poppy has a contract with a local gallery, based on the work she painted out in the desert plus one sexy fae portrait, for an exhibition next August.” She kissed him soundly.

“Poppy is free . Make sure you hear that in a non-TERFy voice. ”

“I hear it in your voice,” Rai murmured. “And you do not sound of grassy fields, but of spring rains and fragrant blossoms.” He kissed her, savoring her triumph. “I rejoice at your freedom.”

She traced a shape over his heart. “I am going to need to paint a lot to fill the gallery.”

“Would you like to paint me again? I have much improved my stamina.”

“Eventually, when it’s safer for you.” Poppy flopped over on top of him.

She was in the tub fully now, parts of her in the water, though her legs extended out over the tile, her cast glowing amber in the candlelight.

“Next time, I want to paint you draped across your hoard of gold coins like a dragon. Not for your mother.” She raised her eyebrows suggestively.

“Dragons do not exist,” Rai said, holding her more closely. “Everyone knows that.”

“Yes, well,” Poppy shrugged; her breasts moved delightfully against him. “Just so you know, Mom got sick of her living room looking like the Lonely Mountain. We moved all your stuff to the studio for safekeeping.” She gave him a wry glance. “Including the bazillion super balls.”

“I only possess two hundred seventy-three.” Rai gave Poppy a haughty glare, hoping to inspire more shrugging. The pressure of her on his chest was warm and sweet, but he’d so missed the way her body moved against his.

He got an eyeroll instead. “Which is probably a world record for number of super balls owned by a single person.”

Rai tried a shrug of his own, smirking when Poppy’s eyes flared in response to the friction. “I enjoy super balls,” he said. “They break things.”

“Why am I not surprised?” Poppy asked the air, then wriggled around so they were face to face, her breasts and belly and thighs pressing deliciously down on him while her feet pointed up into the air

Rai gazed into her face, struck dumb for the merest moment before his adoration spilled out. “Poppy, you are glorious indeed.”

“Ditto.” She giggled and dove in for another kiss.

He held her back. “Yet I must ask of you. Do you wish to continue as my lover? We had only promised until the end of the rains. And I still am…” He glanced around the bathroom. “It is difficult for me to stay in the desert, no matter how I have trained.”

“I know.” Her face turned serious. “I know you’ve been working on being legendary among the fae, but I would like you to be legendary and alive. The thing is, I’ve been talking to my mom. A lot. Did you know she’s always wanted to go to Seattle?”

Rai perked up. “Has she?”

“In fact, there are all sorts of places with water she’d like to visit.

San Francisco. New Orleans. Chicago. And she has very subtly let it be known that she would enjoy visiting those places in the company of her beloved daughter and…

any partner said daughter might consider worthy of her attention. ”

He narrowed his eyes. “By that does she mean me?”

Poppy giggled. “She hasn’t been at all subtle about that. I told you already, she likes you.”

A smug grin crept across his face before he could affect modesty. “I am excellent with mothers.” It was just as well; Poppy knew his arrogance already and would not believe for a moment a facade of humility. But Chicago sounded familiar. He frowned trying to place it.

“She loves this house,” Poppy continued. “And I’m gonna work my ass off to make sure she doesn’t lose it. But that doesn’t mean she has to stay in this house three hundred sixty-five days a year. And Ofelia, as it turns out, is more than happy to house-sit.”

He set aside thoughts of Chicago. “So we may travel together?”

Poppy nodded, then laughed. “We’re gonna have to buy Mom some earplugs.”

“Or find her a lover of her own,” Rai replied. “She is yet quite young, and delightful. Many will be begging for her attention.”

“Maybe someday. After she’s had a little more time to grieve, she might be willing to accept them. Especially if they listen to the Ramones. That was Dad’s secret. He took her to a concert, and she was sold.” She cuddled into Rai’s chest, seemingly done with their negotiations.

But he was not. “I have read,” he continued doggedly, “that it is customary for humans to pay a share of the household expenses in exchange for a share of the living space. Such as this tub I have occupied for, as you say, three weeks already. I can pay my share of rent , even as a mere lover. But a… A husband might pay more.”

She caught her breath and gazed at him for a moment, eyes liquid, then pursed her lips in a provoking smirk. “So you’ve been researching property laws?”

“Yes, while I was training. I wished to convince you to accept me despite my inconvenient gold.”

“I have been tripping over it a lot,” Poppy said with a giggle.

He ducked up to catch her sweet laughter in a kiss. “I can give it away, if you prefer.”

She stroked his hair back from his forehead with warm fingers. “You don’t have to. ‘For richer or for poorer,’ I think the vows go. I’m good with that.” She gave him a coy smile, tracing spirals on his chest. “So, you’ve moved from sales to property law. Do you want to be a lawyer now?”

“No. I am a salesman. But I do wish to wed you.” He gazed into her green-brown eyes, as tense as if he were waiting for a storm to break. “Am I asking too soon? I have read on the internet that one should not rush—”

“ Yes ,” she said with the force of a hurricane, abandoning her teasing smirk for a wide, joyful smile. “Or no, not too soon. Yes, husband. Fuck what the internet thinks.” She kissed him sweetly. “Though I don’t mind living in sin forever. As long as it’s forever.”

“It is not a sin to love,” he murmured, kissing her nose.

“Tell that to the Catholic Church,” she growled—ah, he had not known she could growl so fiercely!—and embraced him.

“So you will be mine,” he entreated as he ran his hands along her body. “You will pledge yourself to me.”

“As long as you’ll do the same.” She stroked his chest. “Here’s a fucking pledge for you. I,” she whispered, pressing sweet kisses along his jaw, “promise to be sarcastic. So sarcastic you don’t know if I am serious or not. Ever.”

“And I promise to be stupid,” he murmured into her sweet, trembling lips. “I will be so stupid you think I am an orange cat.” He ran his hands down the length of her spine, curved them around her bottom. Ah, she was lush. Like a peach.

She gasped, eyes going unfocused. “Orange cats aren’t actually stupid. I looked it up and—”

“I do not care. ” Rai took her lips, kissing her with all the passion he’d built up over the eternity of weeks they’d been apart, and she moaned into his mouth, returning his fervor, building it higher, until he was shaking with need.

And fatigue, he realized a moment later. He was drawing energy from the water around him, but it was starting to run low. “I dislike being weak,” he grumbled, reaching past Poppy to turn on the faucet.

She squeaked. “Hang on. I can’t get this cast wet.” She angled her upward-pointed legs away from the faucet’s flow. She started to laugh. “We really are a pair.”

“Yes,” Rai said. “We are.” He closed his eyes, concentrating on absorbing as much water as he could, then turned off the faucet with a jerk. “Yet I wish to become one.”

“Yes, please,” Poppy breathed, her hot fingers tracing the cords of his throat. “If you’re feeling…up to it.” She cast him a sly smile, arching her belly into his hard length .

“I have been training. ” He wrapped his arms around her and stood, water cascading off his body and hers.

She squealed, throwing her arms around his neck. “Careful of the ankle!” she said as he maneuvered her out the doorway and down the hall to her bedroom, her bed. The blankets were rumpled and smelled of Poppy and of tears.

With a sigh, he nestled her in the center of the bed. “You have wept for me here.”

She nodded, melting delightfully beneath him. “Every night.”

He caught up an extra pillow, tucked it under her cast. “And you yearned for me.” He came above her, sliding into the cradle of her thighs. “Here, in this bed.”

“Every second,” she whispered, arching up to him. Her hands caressed his back, lower. “Have I told you how much I love these pants? They’re even sexier than the jeans.”

Rai did not reply, just kissed along the column of Poppy’s throat.

“For the record,” Poppy gasped, “it was tough to get you out of those jeans while you were soaking wet. And I probably shouldn’t have, you know, since we weren’t together anymore. But they didn’t seem like they’d be comfortable, so I—”