Page 6

6

POE

O ver the next two weeks, Thorin and I get into a rhythm. We wake early in his bed, make each other come two or three times, then head to the coffee shop. He helps me through the initial rush, then works from his laptop through the morning until I close.

We then go back to his house, rub up against each other two or three more times, then he finishes out his afternoon of work while I manage the numbers and social media aspect of the shop.

After, he knots me until I look pregnant, we shower, fall into a dreamless sleep, and start the process all over again in the morning.

Honestly, it’s bliss. Pure fucking bliss. More than the fucking, however, the bond is growing between us. I know how he’s feeling, even when he isn’t right in front of me. And we actually talk. The natural rhythms of the coffee shop give us moments of privacy, which we use to jerk off or to find out more about each other, or maybe a bit of both.

For example, I’m discovering that Thorin is an amazing businessman. He’s had quite a few suggestions for the shop, but only when I ask for his opinion. He somehow manages to do so without ever making me feel stupid for the choices I’ve made.

He surprised me last Sunday by inviting my family to his home so we could officially share the news with them. My father cried so hard he lost a contact, and my mother is beside herself to have a wolf shifter in the family again. He charmed everyone when he shifted and let my little nieces and nephews ride on his back for over an hour.

I’d been worried about Thorin’s reaction when my dad called him son , but he responded with a proud smile and a soft kiss to my lips. I didn’t realize how much I needed his reassurance until I had it. He’s so happy with our union that thinking about it for too long makes me weep.

This weekend we’re flying out to surprise his parents. They live in northwestern Washington State and, Goddess, I hope they like me.

While Thorin still refuses to join in on my viral video dances—turns out, that’s a good thing because the boy has no rhythm—he offered to make us social media official. Three days ago, he took a selfie of us enjoying lunch on the back deck, both of us looking so damn happy it makes my teeth ache with the sweetness.

Having him help around the shop these last two weeks has also shown me that hiring someone to work with me and expanding my hours would both increase my income and create more balance.

I’ve since put up a help wanted ad on a few employment websites, and I’ve gotten a couple dozen really interesting nibbles. I’ve already interviewed the first two of three total candidates, and while they’ve been great, I’m really looking forward to meeting this third candidate.

Thorin couldn’t join me this morning because he has a series of Zoom calls with his office, so we got up extra early to get in a few more orgasms than usual. I would’ve expected chafing by this point, but our ability to recover from even the most spirited lovemaking continues to astound me.

It’s probably a good thing he’s not going to be in this morning because I have the last of the three prospects coming in, and Thorin and I have proven to be completely untrustworthy about keeping our mating under lock and key.

The first gal nearly walked in on Thorin bending me over the glass jewelry case, but thankfully we were able to put ourselves together quickly enough to avoid a pre-employment HR incident.

I battled an erection during the entire second interview, and I was grateful I’d taken to wearing tunics over soft pants to hide what this man does to me. Here’s hoping I can maintain some sort of normalcy with this last interviewee.

Just as I hand Miss Geraldine, my sweet owl shifter friend, her cream and sugar with a splash of coffee, a gorgeous woman walks in. She’s got to be an avian shifter with all of that bling on her. Definitely either a crow or a raven, and I can see what Thorin meant about gaudy. I happen to think she’s gorgeous, but her level of costume jewelry is just this side of too much for most people.

Thankfully, I’m not most people.

“Poe?” she asks, pulling a portfolio from her enormous handbag.

My final candidate. Fuck. Yes.

I nod, waving her over.

She skirts around Miss Geraldine, then puts on a brave smile and comes right up to me. “I’m so excited to be here,” she says, her attitude super positive. She looks around and gestures at the rocks and jewelry. “You must be a crow like me. Everything in here catches the sun.”

I grin. “Raven, but close enough. And don’t you worry about Miss Geraldine,” I say, waving at one of my favorite customers as she heads out. “The avian shifters in this area are completely friendly with one another.”

A strange expression crosses her face, but she smooths it out quickly. If she’s had an unpleasant experience with other avians before, I hope to prove to her she’s in a safe place now.

Remembering I’m the one in charge, I point to a small café table in the corner and invite her to sit. We chat through her experience, the various responsibilities, and the salary. All in all, I think she’s lovely, if a little distracted by all the shiny things.

This could be fun.

“All right, that’s what I have for you. Do you have any questions for me?” I ask.

Her smile, which seemed permanently affixed to her face, falls. I wonder if I’ve done something wrong until she lets out a croak and curls her lip.

“I still can’t believe Thorin left me for a boring raven in some shitty little hovel of a coffee shop.” She gestures to my outfit for the day, a glittery, oversized Dolly Parton T-shirt, white ankle-length linen pants, and a pair of dangly, sparkly earrings I borrowed from the glass case. “How can you call yourself a raven with such drab attire? Have you no sense of pride in your avian heritage?”

Ah, fuck.

I should have figured it out earlier. I straighten my shoulders and cross my ankle over my knee. “You know what’s interesting about you?”

“No, what?” she squawks.

“I don’t even know if Fran is your real name. Thorin has never even once said it out loud. Hell, you’re in his phone as a big X. As in ex-girlfriend . As in completely x’ed out of his life. As in blocked. And now you’ve decided to show up at my shop and spy on me? Sweetie, the only thing I have for you is a crippling case of secondhand embarrassment.”

Her smile this time is an ugly thing. I shiver as she leans across the small table, getting in my face .

“Say what you want, bird boy,” she says on a sharp chirrup . “I came to claim what’s mine. We had a small misunderstanding, Thorin and I, which I will be able to clear up with the snap of my fingers. By next week, you’ll just be a blip in his rearview.”