Page 8 of Never Been Gargoyled (Harmony Glen #4)

Feydin

“ I think that’s the point with an illegitimate baby,” Dazy said.

“No one knows they’re pregnant. In the olden days, women were sent to special homes where they’d give birth, and the baby would be put up for adoption.

The woman would return to her hometown and tell everyone she was touring Europe or caring for a distant relative.

Something like that.” Her head tilted. “Did Helga tour Europe about that time?”

“From what I’ve heard, she rarely left town, certainly not long enough to hide a pregnancy, deliver, and give a child away.

” I did my best to appear serious. And I was.

I was completely serious about this. But why did this woman have to look attractive even when she had dirt on her face, her clothing was mussed, and at least a third of her hair had come out of her braid?

“Feydin?” she asked, striding over and jumping up to wave her hand in front of my face. I had no idea what that meant. “Earth to Feydin. You in there?”

“In where?” I growled, ruffling my wings in irritation.

“Inside yourself.”

I gaped at her. “Where else would I be but inside myself?”

Her smile fell, her eyes growing serious.

“Do you have silent seizures? I had a friend in high school who had them often. Poor thing. You’d be talking to her, and she’d suddenly start staring blankly.

You couldn’t wake her up, though she wasn’t asleep.

Her brain was short circuiting. Whenever that happened, I’d make sure she got to the school nurse, who’d call her mom.

Her doctor had to keep increasing her meds.

She moved away in our senior year, and I lost touch, so I don’t know how she’s doing now. ”

“I do not have silent seizures. The sheriff said he’d ask some of the older people in town if they remember Helga disappearing for months about that time or any indication she might’ve been pregnant.”

“It’s okay to admit it if you have silent seizures. I’ll sit you down and watch over you until you come back.”

“I don’t have silent seizures.”

“Hey.” She scowled, but then, I was also scowling. “No need to be touchy about it.”

“I’m not…touchy.” If I growled, she’d say for sure I was touchy, whatever that meant. “The sheriff will report to us within forty-eight hours.”

“That’s quick. ”

“I insisted on the timeframe.”

“I’m sure you did.” She poked my arm. “Warm. Soft.”

I reeled back from her. “What?”

“Your skin is warm and soft.”

“Why wouldn’t it be?”

Her head cocked. “Do you turn to stone and sleep on the roof at night?”

“What?” I barked, sliding my glare from my arm to her. If she kept touching me, my hormones would go wild. “I, Feydin Xavier Trenchalot Budiere, do not let anything go wild.”

“Why not?” She gave me a cute smile. Although, everything about this woman was cute, from her pert little nose to her curvy frame to her quick wit.

“I just…can’t.” In this, I was at a loss for words. I couldn’t tell her she was my fated mate. That she’d restarted my heart.

Humans didn’t believe in things like that, and if they did, they rarely believed they could fall hard and fast for someone they recently met. Which was what was happening to me.

I tipped my head back and howled at the ceiling.

With a grin, Dazy did the same, and I had to admit, her howl was also cute.

“That’s fun. Any other news about Helga’s potential illegitimate child?

She’s my dad’s aunt, so her daughter, assuming this is true, would be his cousin.

My second cousin. Who is trying to take my inheritance away from me. It makes me sad.”

“Losing the estate? ”

“Well, that, yes, but I was thinking that it’s sad that second cousins aren’t more interested in getting to know each other, maybe being friends, rather than suing them in court.”

“If this goes to court, we’ll win.”

“I like how confident you are about that, Feydin. I enjoy howling, too. Is it the moon?”

“What moon?”

“Are you howling at the moon? Is it full tonight and…I don’t know, drawing out the wild side you said you don’t possess?”

“There is no wild side.”

“Aw, that’s sad.”

I stiffened. “It is not.”

Her smile only widened. “Sure it is. You need to let loose and have fun.”

“I have fun.” Sometimes.

“Doing what?”

“Flying. Howling. Sitting on the roof.”

“In stone form, I assume,” she said.

“I can sit in stone form; it’s voluntary now.”

“It wasn’t before?”

I shook my head. “With the manor house empty, I solidified into stone form.”

She gasped, pressing her fingertips against her lips. Plush lips. Pink. Kissable, I’d bet.

“Are you suggesting I woke you up?” She glanced toward the foyer. “Last night, I heard something when I was trying to get inside the house. I thought maybe it was mice or something, though I don’t know any mice outside of Mickey who can talk, and I doubt Mickey would tell me to leave.”

“I assure you, there are no mice inside this manor. They listen to gargoyles, and if they were present, I would’ve already told them to leave.”

Her eyes lit up. “Like you tried to tell me to leave? That was you, right?”

I pinched my lips together, refusing to admit she was right.

A frown appeared on her face. “But if you were stone, sitting on the roof?—”

“Perching. Gargoyles don’t sit. We perch .”

“You never sit?”

“Not on the roof.”

Her head tilted back, and she stared at the ceiling. “I’d like to sit on the roof sometime. Perch.”

I’d take her there one day soon.

“Why did you just touch me?” I asked, pressing my palm against my chest. Such a simple thing, her pressing a finger into my arm.

Yet I’d felt it all the way to my toes. Clawed toes, but still.

Would she find my claws repulsive? Some humans did.

It may not help that I could retract the ones on my fingers.

In Harmony Glen, at least half of us were monsters. You’d think species would stick together, not allowing insiders within their family group, but in Harmony Glen, we all felt as if we were equals. Claws or long fur or spiked tails or wings didn’t make a difference when it came to friendship .

“You’re right to bring that up,” she said. “I shouldn’t have touched you. I’m constantly reminding myself that people have boundaries and that crossing them could get me into trouble, let alone offend someone.”

“I’ll excuse your behavior this time.”

She blinked up at me before her low laugh ringing out, tickling across my bones. “Funny. I like your dry humor, Feydin. And your wings. You’re cute.”

Me, cute?

My poor newly awakened heart could hardly stand being this close to her, let alone flattery. “Turn around.”

Her mouth opening slightly, she looked up at me. “Why? You’re not going to…spank me for touching you, are you?”

“Why would I do that? Turn around.”

“I don’t think I’m into that kink, though I haven’t tried it yet. Throat hold, maybe. And if you want to call me a good girl, I might or might not swoon for you.”

“Duly noted. Turn around!”

Her nose scrunched with her displeasure. “Hey, you could ask nicely, and you could also tell me why you want me to turn around.”

“I’m going to fix your hair.”

She stared at me for a long time, long enough some might think she was the one having silent seizures. “Alright. I don’t see any harm in that.” With a smirk, she spun.

I gently released the band holding her hair together at the base and worked out the braid, running my fingers through the silky strands. Massaging her scalp .

When she groaned, my hands froze.

“I’m hurting you,” I huffed, starting to ease away from her. “That’s the last thing I want to do.”

I tugged my fingers away from her scalp.

“No, it’s fine,” she said quickly. “It feels good. That’s why I groaned.”

“I’m truly not hurting you?”

She shook her head. “I like it. Keep going. I’ll give you a month or so to stop.”

“A month… Ah. You do like it.” My heart flipped over and surged up my throat. My mate enjoyed my touch. This was a good sign, right? Hope bloomed in my heart, spreading so big, it was crushing my ribs.

“I told you that, right?”

“You did. I need to listen more closely.” I started massaging her scalp again while she groaned and wiggled.

My poor old cock was enjoying how she groaned and wiggled, and I did my best not to picture her lying beneath me, groaning and wiggling like she was now.

What was wrong with me? I was a stoic, stern, somewhat stiff gargoyle, not a youngling male with his first crush.

“You’re really good at this. How many other women have you braided hair for, rubbing their scalp too?”

“None.”

Her breath caught. “Why not?”

“Because they weren’t you.”

“Oh. I didn’t want to think about you rubbing anyone but me, which is a peculiar thought. We’ve just met. You’re a grump. A big old grumpy gargoyle.”

“I already told you I’m not very old. Gargoyles age differently than humans.”

“Are you immortal?”

My fingers paused on her hair. “I’m not. But when I’m in stone form, my metabolism slows to almost nothing. Otherwise, a gargoyle would wake from a long stony sleep emaciated.”

“Like a bear in the spring.”

“More or less.”

When I’d finished, I secured the intricate braid I’d created on the top of her head and stepped back, my wings flaring before I settled them against my spine once more. “Done.”

Turning, she lightly touched the coronet I’d created, sending me a grin that thawed any bit of my insides that might still have contemplated returning to stone. “You created a crown.”

“I did.” I studied her face. The way she appeared so regal wearing my crown. “It looks good on you. You wear it well.”

She smirked. “It’ll be the only time I’ll ever wear a crown.”

“You never know.” I stepped over to the sink and wet a paper towel, returning to hold her chin with one hand while wiping her face with the towel in the other. “You have a bit of dirt here.” It marred her perfection.

“I think I’m dirty all over.”

I unfurled my wings and curled them forward to gently encircle her. Some might consider this an embrace. A gargoyle sure would.

Would Dazy?

“You could bathe again,” I said.

She tilted her head, watching my face that I kept completely neutral. “ Again ?”

I shouldn’t have said that. “I assume you’ve bathed,” I quickly said, snapping my wings back to droop down my spine. “In the tub. In the bathroom. With water.” I was sputtering, trying to cover up what I’d blurted out.

“How do you know that I took a bath in the tub with water?” Stepping forward, she poked a tiny finger into my chest.

My entire body twitched.

“How else would you bathe?” I stretched my mouth into a smile that felt much too fake.

Her expression smoothed. “I guess you’re right. Most people would wash up after tumbling through a window they had to pry open, only to fall on a dusty floor.”

“That’s what it was. And yes, I did wake last night when you arrived. I watched you.”

“Creepy, Feydin. Darn creepy.”

I’d be worried if she wasn’t smiling. Even more worried if she found out I’d watched her undress. Bathe. Clinging to the windowsill like the creep she’d essentially named me.

“In my defense, I thought you were someone breaking in to vandalize the building. A thief.”

“I can see why.” She peered around. “This place is amazing. So many lovely things, and the structure’s sound.

I want to fix it up, but maybe I should hold off.

If it’s not mine, it would be foolish to sink much money into it, though it’s Helga’s money, so perhaps that would be okay.

” Her gaze met mine. “She left me enough to restore the estate and grounds with some left over to live.”

“I think you should do it. This place needs to live again.” Me too.

“She was generous, and I’ll be grateful to her forever for this fresh start she’s given me.” A pensive look took over her face. “Unless I lose it all to her supposed daughter.”

“That won’t happen,” I said gravely. “I won’t let it.”

She nodded, though shadows still lurked in her eyes. “Could you do something for me?”

“Of course.” Anything. Command me. Tell me how to please you. I couldn’t say that, though I ached to let the words spill from my mouth. She wouldn’t understand, so I wasn’t going to tell her.

She strode outside, and I followed her like a pup devoted to his mistress, which I supposed I was. Not a pup, because I was thirty-two.

We rounded the building and entered the shed. She stopped in the middle and pointed. “See those rakes and tools? I need them, but I can’t reach, and the ladder is broken.”

A puny wooden thing, it leaned against the wall, three of its five rungs snapped in two.

“That won’t do,” I snarled, hefting the ladder and taking it outside, leaning it against the side of the build. “ You need a burn pile,” I said when I went back inside and started tugging tools off the rack overhead.

“You’re right. I’ll need a permit for that. I’m sure there are lots of things around here I could burn.”

“I could help.”

“Would you?” Relief crossed her features. “I appreciate that.”

“Where would you like me to place these tools?”

“Oh, you can lay them in the wheelbarrow.” She pointed to it parked along the right side of the shed.

“I’m going to grab my gloves from inside and do some work in the gardens.

There’s so much to do, it’s almost overwhelming.

” Scooting past me, she hurried out of the shed and up the front steps of the manner, entering through the front door.

I tugged all the tools off the rack and laid them inside the wheelbarrow that I eased out of the shed. I leaned other tools against the inside wall, where they’d be easy for her to reach.

She returned, tugging on gloves. “Thank you. It was sweet of you to bring it outside.” Coming close, she tried to place herself between me and the wheelbarrow handles.

I tightened my grip. “Where do you plan to work first?” Peering around, I could see she was right.

The gardens were a mess, but it had been years since Helga went into the nursing home.

She’d hired someone local for a while, but he moved away, and she might not have been able to find someone new. Or she forgot since she was sick.

Dazy frowned up at me, standing so close I could smell her light perfume. Heat surged through my body when it shouldn’t over such a simple thing. But I couldn’t help it. I’d gone from snarling at her to peeping at her while she bathed to… What was I doing now?

Staring down at her like I wanted to kiss her.

Which I did.