Page 7 of The Rhino’s Rose: Fate’s Falls (Mated to the Monster: Season 3)

Six

ROSE

It’s a relief and a disappointment to wake up in a silent house and find a note on the bedside table. Sunlight pours through the bedroom window, and when I reach for my phone to shut off my morning alarm, I know it’s well past Cornelius’s starting time for work. His days start a lot earlier than mine. After the late night we had, he’s probably exhausted. I shouldn’t care, I don’t want to care, but I do.

I pretended not to notice when he left the bed after I rolled away from him last night. Then I tried to convince myself I didn’t care about that, either. I’ve never been good at lying, especially to myself, and the tears that flowed out of me were an almost endless stream of proof. At least I managed to keep quiet. Bad enough that he’s taken it upon himself to decide how I should feel and what I should want. Pity on top of that would be even worse.

Reaching for the note, my attention catches on the broom-handle walking stick I left out by the pool, now propped against the wall near the headboard. Either he’s got mad tiptoe powers, or I was sleeping like the dead, because I didn’t hear him moving around in here. Probably for the best. I’m still pissed off at him for all the assumptions he’s made about me, but all the other feelings are still there, too. Even thinking about seeing him has tears building behind my eyes. Whatever happens next between us, I don’t want it to include getting weepy in front of him. That’d just prove his point that I’m too young and sweet and blah, blah, blah.

“Ugh!” I roll onto my back, the folded paper clutched to my chest. I should leave the note unread and get on with my life. The life he thinks he shouldn’t be part of, even though he claims I’m his fated mate. Contradiction much?

Sighing, I open the paper, a lump rising in my throat as I trail my fingers over my name written in tidy cursive.

Rose,

I’m not going to apologize on a piece of paper. I want to do that in person, if you let me, and when you’re ready.

Since you can’t drive until Dr. Schaefer says you can put weight on that foot, and I assumed you wouldn’t want my help, I asked your friend Alexis to drive you to the doctor’s office this morning. She’ll be there at nine. If you’re not at your store by its opening time, I’ll go over and stick a note on the door telling customers you’ll be back soon.

I spoke with the plumber, and he’ll swing by your house after your shop closes today to look into your hot water issue. If he can’t fix it on the spot, you’re always welcome to use my facilities, and I will go run some errands while you do, so you have privacy.

There’s a good chance you’re going to be angry about all of those things because it probably seems like I’m making decisions for you again, trying to control your life. That’s not my intention or motivation, but based on my previous behavior, I will understand if you see it that way.

If you need anything, anytime, let me know. I will always be here for you.

There’s no sign-off, just a swooping line below the text.

It’s not the groveling apology I was hoping for, but it’s also not the breaking-things-off note I was afraid I might find. It’s just Cornelius being Cornelius, doing what he thinks is best for me .

I know he didn’t make those calls and plans out of some overbearing need to control my life. He did them because he cares for me. The same reason he kept his distance for the past five years, why he fought his feelings and kept them secret. Of course, that decision was wrong. But it was his to make.

Well…shit.

CORNELIUS

A busy day on the jobsite wasn’t enough to keep my mind off of Rose. At the current stage of the stonework, I spent most of the day inside, without a sightline of Rose’s flower shop.

Either lucky timing or fate had me near the renovation job’s front window when she arrived, dropped off by her friend Alexis. It took everything in me not to rush over there. To help. To apologize. To make things right.

At five o’clock, I’m winding things down, cleaning up my area of the jobsite, when my phone pings with a new text. Could be anyone, and is most likely job-related, but my pulse kicks up with hope, like it has every time the phone buzzed in my pocket today. This time, when I swipe my thumb across the screen, the only name that matters is on my screen.

Rose

Your note said you want to talk. If you’re free after work, can we talk then?

We can talk anytime you want. I’ll walk away from anything for you.

Rose

I have things to do here at the shop, so no rush. Stop by when you’re ready.

No rush. Stop by. Words people use for unimportant things. Casual meetups. The opposite of everything I feel and want.

Washing up. Be over in a few minutes.

Rose

I’ll leave the front door unlocked for you. rose emoji

No blushing face emoji this time. Just the rose. But it’s something.

Ten minutes later, the old-fashioned bell over the door of Rose’s Garden chimes my entrance. I’ve only been in one other time, for her grand opening three years ago, and there were so many bodies packed into the small space, all I could smell was people. With just Rose and I in the shop, I’m bombarded by scents of flowers and greenery. Fresh scents that remind me of Rose’s hair, Rose’s skin. I assumed it was her perfumes and products. Once again, I assumed wrong.

Standing at a worktable near the rear of the store, her long red hair shimmering beneath the overhanging light, a pale-pink dress caressing her curves in a way that makes me envious of the fabric, she looks over her shoulder at me. “Would you turn the deadbolt? I don’t want anyone thinking I’m open and interrupting us.”

Nodding, I lock the door, the metallic click of it sharp against the pounding pulse in my ears. “I saw you arrive on crutches. Any news from your appointment with Dr. Schaefer?”

“The swelling has gone down a lot, but she did a scan anyway, and confirmed it’s just a minor sprain. I need to be careful with it, probably for a few weeks.”

“That’s good news. If there’s anything I can do, I’m happy to.”

“I know, thank you. And thank you for the arrangements you took the time to make. I’m not angry; I appreciate them.”

“Glad I could help,” is what I say. Internally, there’s a celebration going on. Prematurely, maybe, but pebbles are something to build with, even though they’re small.

“Your note said you wanted to talk face-to-face. I have something to say, too.”

So much for hopeful pebbles. The words, I have something to say , are like a rock weighing heavy in my gut. Though, whatever she has to say, I have it coming .

“Ladies first.”

“Not this time,” she says, her mouth curving ever so slightly in a smile.

My mind immediately jumps to making her come last night, and my cock jumps right along with it. Uncouth thing doesn’t give a shit about inappropriate timing. The thick, dark work pants don’t offer much in the way of room to grow, but hopefully the compression will prevent her from noticing that I’m hard.

“You don’t have to stand at the door.” She waves me closer, then sets some eucalyptus sprigs and a pair of shears aside, turning to face me fully when I join her at the worktable.

“All night, all day today, I practiced what I’d say if you gave me the chance, and now that I have it, all the well-thought-out sentences are nowhere to be found.”

“I don’t care if it’s fancy prose or bullet points or interpretive dance. Just be honest.”

“If you’d ever seen a rhino dance, that wouldn’t be an option. Not a pretty sight.” The jab at myself earns me a light laugh and a small smile. “I’m sorry I hurt you. With rejection, lies of omission, and presumptuous jackassery. Holding myself back, and you at arm’s length… I see now how it was controlling, but that was never my intention. I thought by removing myself as an option, I was doing what was best for you, what would make you happiest in your future. But the choice should always have been yours—I had no right to make it for you. I’m sorry I made assumptions and took the decision from you. I will always do whatever I can to take care of you, but how I take care of you is your choice now. Fate picked you as my mate, but my heart is yours because I love you.”

For several slow, beautiful blue blinks, she’s silent. Then she throws her arms around my neck, pressing her softness tight against me. “That was the most beautiful thing I’ve ever heard. Thank you.”

Gods, she feels good in my arms. I can’t believe I spent five years trying to prevent it. “I meant every word, Rose.” I press a kiss to her soft hair, then thread my fingers through its silky length. “Maybe it’s too soon for you to hear that I love you, but I don’t want to keep what I feel inside anymore. You deserve to know everything.”

“As much as I dreamed of hearing those words every day for the past five years, I really do believe things happen when it’s the right time for them to happen.”

“If I could go back?—”

“We’d never get to have this moment,” she says, smiling up at me, running her hands over my neck, my ears, my face, before placing her palms flat on my chest. “And I love this moment.”

“Does that mean you forgive me? If you need more time or space, I’ll wait. Not patiently, not easily, but respectfully.”

“I don’t want another minute of time or space without you right here,” she says, sliding her arms around me again. “And I had already forgiven you, before your beautiful speech. My past reared its big ugly head last night. It really hurt to find out you’d deprived me of the freedom to choose who I spend my life with. The hurt ballooned and pushed everything else aside. This morning, when I read your note, I realized I owe you an apology, too. I wasn’t angry solely because you took my choice away. I was also angry because you didn’t do what I thought was best. If I could have controlled things to get what I wanted, I would have. Just because I didn’t actually do it doesn’t make me less guilty. I’m sorry for blowing up at you.”

“You had every right to.”

“Maybe, but I still wish I hadn’t. Apparently, escaping my mafia father didn’t mean outrunning my hotheaded Sicilian roots.”

“That fiery spirit is why you’re in my arms. I needed it. I love it and every other part of you.”

“And I love you. Every part of you. Including the part I was a bit afraid of last night, but I’m not anymore.” Bright pink floods her beautiful, fair face. “I talked to Dr. Schaefer about it today. She assured me we’ll fit together, and said just to make sure I’m well lubricated and that I’ve been, um, prepped, to make accommodating your size pleasurable.”

“Rose.” It comes out raw and gravelly. Pretty sure my cock is harder than any other time in my entire life. As much as I want to show her exactly how pleasurable I’ll make it when I’m deep inside her, it’s her other words that matter most—she loves me. Gently, I cup her face in my hand, tipping her chin up and angling my head to kiss her. Carefully. Deeply.

Like the first time, her taste hits me hard, igniting the mating bond. Only now that neither of us is holding anything back, it’s fully open. The heat between us is more than physical chemistry, more than the innate need to breed with her. It’s everything. She’s everything.

Breaking the kiss, she pulls back enough that our eyes meet. “Last night, you said part of why you denied what you felt is because you wanted me to have a houseful of human babies. Maybe it’s because I was an only child, motherless, and basically fatherless too, since he had little to do with me, but having kids has never been more than a fuzzy possibility. Gray and fuzzy, I realized this morning. So, I asked Dr. Schaefer about that, too. She said our DNA is compatible, and the female human body is capable of carrying and delivering a human-rhino baby, if that’s something we want one day.”

Just when I thought my heart couldn’t get fuller, Rose makes it feel as if it could burst from my chest. “You asked the doctor about having children with me.”

“I thought we should have all the information, just in case. If you never want kids, I’ll get on birth control before we take the next step.”

“This is one choice that only you should make, and no matter what you decide, I’ll still be the happiest man to walk the earth because I’m walking with you.”

“Then…you’re okay with leaving it up to nature to decide? Dr. Schaefer said that despite biological compatibility, cross-species reproduction isn’t a sure thing. I could get pregnant the first time, or it might never happen, no matter how much we want it to or try.”

Straining against the inside of my pants, my cock proves that it can indeed get harder.

“We can talk later; we should probably get going since you arranged for the plumber.” The glassiness in her eyes and flush of pink high on her cheeks tell a different story than her well-intentioned words.

“The plumber can wait. I can’t.”

A soft gasp leaves her parted lips as I grip her waist and lift her onto the worktable. “Here?” she says when I gather her dress in my hands and pull it up to pool at her hips.

“I’m not going to fuck you here. Not today, anyway. But I need to taste you and feel you come. Right now.”

“What if someone looks through the front window?”

“They’ll see us hugging and kissing, be happy for us, and move along.”

“If your face is between my legs, only one of us will be kissing.”

I chuckle at the adorable eyebrow wiggle she gives me. “There’s more than one way to taste you.” I press two fingers against the thin strip of material covering her pussy, running my knuckles up and down until she’s rocking against my touch and I feel her wetness through the fabric. Then I tug the panties from her body and bring them to my face, groaning as I inhale her intimate scent.

Her eyes open wider when I drag my tongue over the material. Then she gasps as I take the section that’s damp with her juices into my mouth and suck it, a rumble vibrating from deep inside me .

“Delicious,” I say, tucking the panties into my pocket while stepping between her knees. “My sweet Rose.” Rolling the pad of my thumb back and forth over her clit, I cup her face with the other hand and press my mouth to her soft lips.

She parts for me, a throaty mmm vibrating against my tongue when I slide it alongside hers. Back arched, she tips her hips up, her body rocking in time with my rhythm on her clit. She breaks the kiss, whispering, “Harder,” through choppy breaths.

I give her what she needs while sliding one finger inside her, then adding a second, her pussy hugging my fingers like a vise.

“More,” she pants, moaning when I ease three fingers into her tight wet heat while working my thumb faster and harder over her clit. Her mouth falls open, her beautiful, erotic cries of pleasure filling the air.

“Gods, you’re beautiful,” I say when the last ripple runs through her and she snuggles against my chest. “I was such a fool to think I could have a life without you.”

“Good thing I smartened you up.” Chin digging into my chest, she tilts her head to meet my gaze. “Take me to my house? Now that I’m not selfishly and thoroughly indulging in your touch, I feel bad keeping your plumber friend waiting.”

“I’ll make it up to him with beers at The Brew. How about I tell him to stop by another day, and you and I can go share a nice, long wallow in the big tub before I take you to bed and make you come until I’ve wrung every last orgasm out of your beautiful, sexy body. ”

A fresh wave of rosy pink blooms on her face, her smile stretching nearly ear to ear. “If you do that, I might never want to go home.”

Or maybe she’ll decide that she’s already there.