Chapter Fourteen

Hemlock

If I wasn't moving around so fast, trying to get ready for Poe's arrival, my knees would surely be knocking together.

I wasn't the nervous type but damn it, my demon wanted everything to be perfect. Our female was arriving. Our mate. The one we'd been waiting for. I was so sure of it, I would've bet our entire business on the notion.

"Let's go over everything," I said to Grendel who had gone to great lengths making a dinner to impress, as he called it. It was the same dinner he made when our families came over, and they always seemed to love it.

"Dinner is ready. Rib roast. Sweet potatoes. Parmesan asparagus. Dinner rolls. Blackberry cobbler. All the new towels are washed and dried and put away. I called Delilah, and she texted me a list of hair products and soaps and things to get."

Delilah was one of Grendel's sisters. She was the first person we told that Poe was coming. She'd even downloaded a ton of her podcast episodes. She wanted to hear her future sister-in-law. Her words. Not mine.

"We got all the things she likes, or what she told us." I added to Grendel's list.

"We had the house cleaned. Everything is ready for a guest," he added.

"Hopefully, she won't just be a guest."

"A demon can hope."

As though the Goddess heard my wish, the doorbell gonged overhead. Poe was here.

"She's…oh, man. I'll get it." Grendel practically sprinted to the door and then stopped when I didn't do the same.

I needed the slow walk between the kitchen and the front door to calm the fuck down.

On the other side of our door, our mate awaited. I was sure of it.

Grendel turned the knob and opened the door wide. But instead of Poe walking in, Salem, prim and proper princess that she was, padded inside, giving us both the once-over before proceeding. She turned to her person, Poe, and swung her tail.

"And just like that, you two have been approved." Poe put her hand on her hip.

"Poe, please come in. Welcome to our home."

We stepped back to give her room to enter, but I felt like a teenager on his first date. Awkward. Dumbstruck. And jonesing for that first kiss.

Poe, in person, outshined all the images of herself on videos and even on video chat. In person, she walked with grace. Her jeans fit her like a second skin, and the bit of creamy waist I could see between the top of those jeans and the bottom hem of her black crop top called to me.

She turned a bit, looking at me over her shoulder and, had there not been a wall behind me, I certainly would've toppled to the floor.

Our mate was gorgeous.

Goddess, please, let her be our mate. Because in that moment, with her smirking at me over her shoulder with the dimples in her cheeks deepening, there was no one else on this earth that I wanted in my life or our bed.

"Your home is beautiful," she said, winking at me.

Grendel nodded. "Thank you. It kind of pales in comparison now."

A blush dusted her cheeks. "That was sweet. Thank you, Gren."

Her eyes were still on me. Come on, Hemlock. You are a strong, capable, manly demon. Flirt for fuck's sakes. Say something romantic. Compliment her. Anything but standing here like an oaf with your mouth hanging open.

"Are you okay, Hemlock?" she asked. Damn it. I'd been caught. Poe walked over and touched my arm, running it down until her fingers played against mine. Her scent wafted toward me. Poe's smell was autumn personified. She was crisp leaves, apple pie, and a morning breeze all wrapped up into one package.

No one had ever smelled like that to me.

She smelled like home, and that fact slugged me right in the gut.

Because a female that smelled like home to a demon only meant one thing.

That female was my fated—our fated.

"I'm okay now that you're here." I grasped her hand in mine and brought it to my lips, kissing the back of it. "I'm sorry. I was awestruck by you. Are you hungry? Grendel has prepared a small feast."

"You cook?" she asked him.

Grendel laughed, placing his hand on the small of her back. "One of many of my talents. Come on, female. The kitchen is this way."

When Grendel passed me, I caught his attention. "Apples and cinnamon?" I asked.

"Absolutely ours," he said, low and breathy.

Hell yeah, she was.