Brann
T he words come out so much easier than I thought they would. It’s freeing to say them. Holding out my hand, an invitation to her, peace floods me when she grasps it. “I was moving slow. I thought that’s what you wanted. But we can accelerate if you’re ready. We can announce to the universe—just say the word. Because I’m one thousand percent in, Natasha. I love you.”
She’s on the floor, in my arms, crying. Holding her close, inhaling her sweet scent, I pet her curly hair until she’s got all her tears out. My father was right. Finding your mate does something to your insides that doesn’t seem to make any sense.
I’ve had employees bleed on me, cry in front of me, throw tantrums at losing the person we were rescuing. But never have I had an employee so precious to me, crying on me, snotting up my favorite work shirt, demanding that I acknowledge her, us, so adamantly.
“I know this is scary for you. I promise not to endanger you or Lucy. Say the word and I’ll set up a meeting with HR.” Pretty sure she nods into my chest.
“I thought you didn’t like kids,” she whispers into my shoulder.
“I don’t,” I say, chuckling. “But Lucy has bewitched me, along with her mother.”
“She has that magic about her, doesn’t she?” Natasha sits up and wipes her eyes. That sparkle of parental pride in her eyes.
“She does. I even went to Grim and Bare It Tools to buy pink paint last night.” At that admission, she gasps, covering her mouth with her hand. Maybe that was too much information. “I can take it back if she doesn’t like pink,” I say with a shrug.
Helping her up, I hand her some tissues and wait for her to collect herself. “Are you ready to announce to the team? I think that’s the first step.” She nods, a look of embarrassment on her face. Lifting her chin with a finger, I say, “No embarrassment. Guarantee this is just a formality. They already know.” Her face reddens.
“It really isn’t fair that everyone is so in tune with scents and things,” she waves her hands in the air. “I’m totally in the dark!”
Everyone is wrapping up the day when I ask for their attention. “I have an important announcement to make.” I keep my voice low so as to not wake Lucy. “Natasha Beckett and I are—” I stumble. The words fated mates don’t want to come out, because do I really believe in it? Sighing, I try again, avoiding Natasha’s eyes. “We are dating. Any concerns can be brought to me. And—” this time I’m cut off by the whooping and hollering of every single member of my team.
Kaj shouts, “Fated mates for the win!” and Bjorn high-fives him. Natasha’s face is redder than Sheriff Draugr’s.
“Welcome to the club!” Bjorn says to Natasha, who laughs but looks confused. In a loud, fake whisper, he says, “The fated mates’ club. It’s the real deal.” He pounds on his heart for emphasis.
Lucy shuffles out, rubbing her eyes. “Branny, is it a party?”
“Branny!” Bjorn laughs. Inwardly, I groan, knowing he’ll never forget my new nickname.
“No, just a little celebration. Do you want to celebrate with us?” She nods her head as she wipes her sleepy eyes. It’s amazing to me how quickly she’s wound herself around my heart. I scoop her up, asking if she has anything she wants to celebrate. She looks from me to Natasha and back again.
“That you’re going to be my daddy.”
My heart drops out of my body and straight through to the center of the Earth. Behind me, I hear wolf whistles from Bjorn and Peder. But that doesn’t bother me.
What does bother me is the look of horror and panic on Natasha’s face.