Page 26 of Reptile Dysfunction (Harmony Glen #11)

Chapter Twenty-Four

S loane

“Tell me again why we need additional sequins? These bowties are already sparklier than a Vegas showgirl’s costume.” Thad stares at the mountain of craft supplies spread across my dining room table, his snakes eyeing the glittery pile.

“The Silver Swimmers decided the original sequins weren’t enough for ‘maximum underwater visibility,’” I remind him, sorting through spools of iridescent ribbon. “Apparently, the light catching the reflective accents creates a ‘magical effect’ through the underwater viewing window.”

“There’s nothing magical about a six-foot-four Gorgon covered in craft store leftovers,” he mutters, but Sterling is already nudging a particularly sparkly selection of blue sequins toward me.

“Sterling disagrees.” I point to the iridescent snake, who's now trying to arrange sequins into a pattern that suspiciously resembles his own scales. “He's a shameless attention-seeker, but he understands the artistic vision.”

“Unlike his compatriots, who still remember their enforcer dignity.”

As if on cue, several other snakes cautiously extend toward the craft supplies, their curiosity overcoming their attempt at aloofness.

We’ve commandeered my parents’ dining room for emergency water ballet costume preparations after the Silver Swimmers had what Mabel called “a conceptual breakthrough” during yesterday’s rehearsal.

The “breakthrough” involved adding significantly more sparkle to everyone’s costumes, but particularly to Thad’s snake accessories, which now resemble tiny disco balls.

“Your mother is being suspiciously supportive of this whole production,” Thad observes as he reluctantly helps attach glittery embellishments to what were once modest miniature bowties. “I thought she’d be more concerned about the dignity of the Revelation celebration.”

“Are you kidding? She’s thrilled. Dad’s been so serious about everything, she thinks this is exactly what the community needs.” I grin, remembering my mother’s enthusiasm when I explained the concept.

“Exactly what it needs, huh?” Thad mutters, but his snakes betray his amusement by swaying gently. “I still don’t understand why they need these ridiculous accessories when they’re already decorative enough.”

Sterling makes a pleased little hiss at the compliment. “Unlike Sebastian's snakes, who maintain their color-coordinated bowties through sheer force of librarian willpower.”

“Says the man whose snakes are about to wear tiny sequined bow ties underwater,” I tease.

“Don’t remind me.” But his lips twitch with the beginning of a smile. “The things I do for community integration.”

“Very noble.” I lean over to kiss him lightly, and his snakes immediately ease closer, several abandoning their sequin inspection to reach for me hopefully. “Your hair disagrees with your grumpy act, by the way.”

“They’re terrible at maintaining the enforcer image lately.” His hand finds mine across the table, warm and solid. “Especially around you.”

The sound of the front door opening interrupts the moment. My father’s voice carries from the foyer, accompanied by the rustle of papers and the distinctive cadence of his “official business” tone.

“—need those property assessments by Thursday. And make sure the Harrington Development inquiries are properly documented. After that protest stunt, we need to be thorough.”

Thad’s snakes tense like drawn wires, their playful exploration of craft supplies forgotten as they shift into alert mode. Even Sterling straightens, his usual showboating replaced with enforcer focus.

Dad appears in the doorway, phone still to his ear. He pauses mid-sentence at the sight of a six-foot-four Gorgon at his dining table, surrounded by enough shiny adornments to supply a children’s pageant.

“I’ll call you back,” he says to whoever’s on the line, then pockets his phone. “Thaddeus. Didn’t expect to see you today.”

“Emergency costume consultation,” I explain, gesturing to the crafting chaos. “For the water ballet.”

“Ah.” Dad surveys the scene with what appears to be genuine amusement. “The Silver Swimmers’ production. Your mother’s been quite excited about it.”

“Sounds unanimous… except for me,” Thad grumbles.

“How are the business contracts coming along? I heard you secured a few downtown businesses yesterday.”

Thad gives a sigh of relief at the transition to business conversation. “Six shops signed on. After Harrington’s people made another round of visits, the owners were particularly receptive to security options.”

“I imagine they were.” Dad’s expression darkens slightly. “The council’s getting complaints about those visits. Nothing concrete enough for legal action, but definitely a pattern.”

“We’re documenting everything,” I assure him, slipping automatically into journalist mode. “Three business owners have agreed to go on record about the tactics being used.”

Dad nods thoughtfully. “Good. We’ll need that for the emergency zoning meeting on Friday.”

“Emergency zoning meeting?”

“To address concerns about predatory development practices in monster-owned districts.” Dad sips his water, then adds casually, “I thought Guardian Solutions might want to provide security for the event. Might be some… passionate attendees.”

Thad’s snakes all perk up at the opportunity. Even the ones still trying to maintain their intimidating image can’t hide their interest.

“We’d be happy to help,” Thad says, his voice sliding into what I’ve come to think of as his “professional protector” tone. “Though we’ll need details on expected attendance and potential risk factors.”

“Of course.” Dad sets down his glass, looking between us with an expression I can’t quite decipher.

“I’ll have my assistant send over the briefing materials.

” He pauses, then adds with unexpected sincerity, “I appreciate what you’re doing, you know.

Both of you. This town needs its protectors working in the open. ”

The compliment hangs in the air for a moment before Dad clears his throat awkwardly.

“Well,” he says, gesturing to the sequin mountain, “I’ll leave you to your… artistic endeavors. Good luck with the performance. Uh… should I say I’m looking forward to it?”

Is that a smirk on my father’s face?

“Don’t want to get your hopes up, Sir. Although I can guarantee it will be… memorable.”

“That was…” I search for the right word.

“Progress?” Thad supplies, his fingers finding mine again across the table. “Definitely progress.”

His thumb traces over my knuckles, and even this simple touch sends warmth up my arm. The easy intimacy we’ve built amazes me sometimes—how we shifted from a business interaction to this, whatever this is. Partnership, certainly. But deeper than that.

“I have something to tell you,” I say quietly, then hesitate.

“What?”

“I might be falling for you. Hard.”

His smile transforms his entire face. “Might be?”

“Definitely am.”

“Good,” he says, leaning across the table to kiss me softly. “Because I’m already there.”

Sterling immediately abandons his sequin project to drape himself across both our joined hands, as if blessing the moment. The other snakes follow suit, their warm weight settling over our joined fingers like a seal of approval.