15. Brett

Chapter 15

Brett

There's something I want to talk about tonight.

Anders' words from this morning played in my head over and over again. Nothing about the way he said them had indicated there was a problem. But leave it to me to have my brain formulate a thousand bad things that it could be. I'm fun like that.

I'd been trying to sleep so that I could be awake when he got home and failing miserably. Working opposite shifts wasn't easy, but most of the time, I slept when he worked, so it meshed. Not today. Today, sleep evaded me like a boss.

Giving up, I went out back, took my hooves, and ran and ran and ran and ran and ran. If I couldn't get out of my own head, I was gonna make myself so tired that it kicked me out on its own. At least that was the theory.

Two hours later, I finally accomplished the task. I came back inside, crawled under the covers, and fell sound asleep, waking up only when my alarm went off.

We were having dinner at Anders' house—nothing special or fancy, nothing homemade even. He was grabbing sandwiches from the coffee shop, which didn't sound like a great place to get sandwiches but was actually by far the best location to do so in the county.

I quickly showered and changed, not wanting to be late, still worried about what it was that he wanted to talk to me about. Could I have handled it like a grown-up and asked him straight out? Absolutely. But did I? No. Every time I thought it might be a good idea, fifty reasons not to reared their ugly heads.

My timing was perfect. I pulled in right behind him, my mate not even fully out of his car when I arrived.

"I'll help you with that," I offered.

He hadn't purchased a sandwich. He had a bag that looked like it was more designed for catering clients than it was for an average person picking up dinner.

"I wasn't sure what you wanted," he shrugged, "so I got everything I thought had potential."

"We're gonna be eating sandwiches for a week." Which I didn't mind.

We went inside, and I unpacked all the food onto the counter while he took care of the sweet pup. As I did, I looked at all the names scribbled across them. None of them made sense. Instead of calling a turkey sandwich a turkey sandwich or a BLT a BLT, they had fancy names for them based on different local landmarks. Like, yeah, the river's cool and all, but a sandwich named after it? What did that even mean?

"Let's play guess the sandwich." He held it up. "Winner gets first choice of dessert." The way he looked me up and down told me he meant the fun kind, too.

"Game on. This one is tuna—because rivers have flowing water and water is where fish live."

"I guess chicken, a play on chicken of the sea."

We were both wrong. It was roast beef, and neither of us could find any logic in that whatsoever.

We had a blast, with me ending up with a grilled mushroom work of magic and my mate with an Italian.

"Maybe take the rest to work?" He stacked the last one in the fridge.

"Yeah. That sounds good." I closed my eyes. "You said you wanted to talk about something."

When I opened them again, his eyes were opened wide in recognition.

"I said that, didn't I?"

I nodded, and he crossed over and hugged me.

"Sorry, I didn't mean it like it was a… were you thinking about it all day?"

Another nod.

"I was saying it so I didn't forget, not to cause you stress." He kissed my cheek.

"Okay. I don't know why I was so emotional about it."

"No need to be sorry. I want to do some work on this house and make it so it can be our home and wanted your input on it all."

"Wait. I've been trying to figure things out all day long, and you're asking me to move in?" I had to laugh at myself.

"Is that a yes to moving in?"

"Of course it's a yes." My place did have a better backyard, but it wasn't really mine. This was his. The choice was obvious. "So what are your ideas?"

He started in the kitchen and then went from room to room. He wasn't looking for a face lift. My mate was wanting to customize this place for us, and he'd obviously put some serious thought into it. He wanted this not to be me moving into his place, but us creating our own.

"I thought we could turn the spare bedroom into a nursery."

It was a good size for it, and I could see his point, but the mention of its use had me seeing for the first time that he might not understand what being mated to a unicorn meant.

"Nursery, like for a baby?"

"Yeah, I mean, I sort of thought we were on the track to having children. Is that not what you want?"

I reached for his hand. "No, I very much want children with you. But the thing is, I thought you knew… a lot of unicorns are barren, and those that aren't? Pregnancy doesn't come easy. That's one of the reasons there are so few of us."

He picked up our joined hands and kissed mine sweetly. "The goddess knows what our future holds, not us," he said. "Let's not borrow trouble. If it's meant to be, do you want children with me?"

"More than anything."

"Well, then there's that. We can use this room if we need, and if not, we'll find something else."

"You won't be mad?" I seriously assumed he knew.

"No. Of course not. Don't you see, my love?" He pressed his hand against my cheek. "There is nothing that could make me want you less, that I wouldn't do for you, that was a deal breaker. Nothing."

I stared into his eyes, feeling the warmth of his hand against my cheek, and it struck me again how lucky I was to have found him. Anders wasn't just my mate—he was my best friend, the one person who saw me just as I was and loved me anyway.

He leaned in, pressing his forehead to mine, and we stayed like that for a moment, breathing each other in. "I'm serious about this, you know. Whatever it takes, whatever you want, we'll make it happen. This house is ours, and it should feel that way."

"Thank you." My words didn't cover the depths of my appreciation.

"Then let's start with something small. How about tonight? We'll make a list of all the things we want to do to the house, and then we'll work through them together, one by one. No rush, no pressure—just us."

"Just us," I echoed, the words tasting sweet on my tongue.

He kissed me, soft and lingering, before pulling back. "But first, I think we deserve a treat."

I raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "A treat?" Technically neither of us had won the sandwich contest, neither of us getting any correct. But I was willing to concede victory since there was no loser in either scenario.

"Yeah," he said, grinning. "I don't know if you noticed, but there's a new frozen yogurt shop that just opened up in town. I've been waiting for the right moment to check it out, and I think this is it. They allow dogs."

"Frozen yogurt?" I raised my eyebrows, and he nodded. "You mean the place everyone's been talking about and not…?" I ticked my head toward the bedroom.

"I was more along the line of both." He winked.

"Deal."

The yogurt shop was cute and had a fabulous array of choices. As a surprise to no one, Choccie won a few hearts.

The yogurt was absolutely delicious, but not nearly as wonderful as the dessert I had when we got back home. I wasn't sure I could ever get enough of my mate, but was looking forward to a lifetime of trying.