Page 27 of My Pucking Mates (Pucking Werewolves #4)

A fter carrying Runa back to the house, we took her to the shower, washed every inch of her perfect golden skin, claimed her again, and then she washed us. The mundane actions filling me with a peace I’ve never known. This is our life. She’s ours. Forever.

Before we arrived, we had paid for the kitchen to be fully stocked with fresh food.

Setting her in a bamboo barstool at the small breakfast bar, we make our way into the kitchen and work in tandem to make a large breakfast spread with an obnoxious amount of fresh fruit.

She dives into the pineapple first, telling us it’s her favorite fruit, another piece of information about our mate to commit to memory.

Pineapple juice dribbles down her chin, and it takes all my strength not to dive across the counter, lick it up, and claim her again, but I can’t. We have plans for our sweet mate today, and that will have to wait until later this evening before we can be inside her again.

When we finally make it out of the house, all of us are wound a little tight from trying to keep our hands to ourselves.

Wishing we could have had more days in paradise so we weren’t rushed to make all of her dreams come true.

We head back out into the bright sunlight beaming over the islands on our way to the day’s first excursion.

She peppers us with questions, trying to get us to spill our secrets, and we somehow manage to keep a lid on them until we arrive.

There are already people everywhere, but the owner of our vacation home raved about the large island market that would be buzzing with activity.

Her head remains on a swivel, following the sights and sounds all around us, her excitement palpable in the warm air.

Lined up and down the long Main Street are vendors of all kinds, the early morning light streaming between the booths.

There are little food trucks and booths with scents of roasted meats and sweet treats fogging the air.

There are seamstresses and crafters selling handmade clothes, jewelry, art, souvenirs, and more, all wearing warm, easy smiles as they watch patrons move along the road, currently closed off to traffic.

Even though we ate not long ago, the scent of pineapple-roasted meat draws her in first, and I’m definitely not complaining—it smells amazing.

The decadence of the aroma alone makes my mouth water.

Eris orders each of us a grilled kebab that is heavily loaded with chicken, onion, peppers, and pineapple.

Runa eagerly takes a bite, moaning her enjoyment, my brother and I freezing as we absorb the sound, a few other men eyeing our beautiful mate, causing me to growl. “Maybe save those sounds for just the three of us,” I suggest roughly.

She giggles.

Brat .

Moving along, she stops and checks out booths full of mugs, clothing, trinkets, and every kind of souvenir you could imagine.

She buys a few handmade dresses and a magnet, but she still seems to be searching for something as her eyes scan every inch of each vendor’s booth, looking irritated when she doesn’t find what she deems to be the perfect treasure.

We’re about to leave when she pulls on my arm, bolting out of our grasp, and rushes to a tiny booth that’s actually just a table set up with a few very eclectic things adorned on it.

Behind it sits the sweetest little old woman, her eyes crinkling with a wide smile she grants Runa as she approaches.

Scanning the table, I see what made her so happy. I wasn’t even aware what she was looking for, but it all makes sense now. Sea turtles. The table is covered in sea turtles of all kinds. Wood carvings, handmade jewelry, keychains, postcards, stickers—you name it.

Eris smiles with his hands in his pockets as he watches her take it all in.

In a flash, it looks as though something catches his eye.

He moves to the table, picking up something beaded without her noticing, too engulfed in her exploration of the other items on the surface.

Discreetly, he shows me the turquoise beads making up a small bracelet. What’s so special about that? I ask.

He rolls his eyes at me in the way that tells me he thinks I’m completely dense. Only that the beads are our favorite color, and, he turns the bracelet, and it definitely makes sense. There’s a turtle bead, also carved out of turquoise.

He moves quickly and quietly to purchase it without her noticing.

When he turns to give it to her, she’s holding up one that matches it perfectly, except the one in her hand is made of pink turquoise.

“I want to get this for Leera.” She smiles, beaming really, at the gift she’s chosen for our Luna and basically her sister-in-law…

W ait, does that make her our sister-in-law now too? I think to myself. I’ll inquire about that later.

Eris’ mouth stretches into a grin so big I worry his recently serious face might crack when he says, “Of course, Precious, but we got this one for you,” he says as he presents her with the bracelet matching the one in her hand.

She gasps, her eyes once again filling with happy tears, “You bought this for me?” She looks to me for confirmation, like she doesn’t believe it, so I nod to her with a smile.

Without hesitation she launches herself at my twin, one arm extended to pull me in for a group hug, the older woman smiling as she takes us in.

“I’m so lucky to have you two.” She mumbles emotionally into his shirt.

Shaking my head, using my thumb and finger to pull her chin back so she’s facing me, I say, “We’re the lucky ones, Darling. Don’t you ever forget it,” I tell her, a bit more seriously than I intended.

Eris takes her hand in his, slipping the bracelet onto her slender wrist, the turquoise beads popping beautifully off her skin.

She watches with tears still in her eyes, turning her wrist every which way to admire her new treasure.

It isn’t much, but it makes her happier than I’ve ever seen, and that’s all that matters… and an idea takes form.