Chapter 6

Olistaire

Grace slumps into my side, shoulders drooping with what looks like pure exhaustion. Despite the less-than-ideal circumstances, I revel in the softness of her curves pressing against me.

"Well," I say after several long seconds, keenly aware of the dip of her waist beneath my fingers. "That male is wholeheartedly a jerk."

"Right?" She finally pushes away from me, and I reluctantly let her go. "I'm so sorry, by the way, for the way he spoke to you… Those ‘animal' comments were way out of line."

I sigh and wave my hand in dismissal, more than used to the way some humans still hold prejudice against fae, and not holding it against Grace in the slightest. "I'm not concerned with what that lump of soggy cereal thinks about me."

She snorts, pressing her fingers over her mouth and staring up at me with eyes that are slowly regaining their humor. "Soggy cereal, huh?"

"The male is limp," I say, not knowing how better to describe him. "He's a bowl of milk, Grace. A glob of rice pudding on the sidewalk. He's a beanpole without the beans."

When she starts giggling, almost as if in spite of her better judgment, some of my previous ire softens.

What the fuck did I just witness? Is this the sort of thing she's been dealing with for her entire relationship with the human? I was already aware of his uselessness from the little gleans of information I've picked up throughout the months I've known Grace, but today just unveiled a whole new level of disgust I now have for the male. As far as I'm concerned, after everything I've just witnessed, he can rot in the deepest labyrinth for eternity, and society would only benefit from his absence.

"None of that makes any sense," Grace says, and at least she's smiling now. "But somehow, you're one hundred percent on point."

I huff through my nose and stare down at her. "You deserve better."

Her smile slips and she turns away, looking down to fiddle with the plate of our untouched dessert.

"Surely

you have to go back to work by now," she finally says, changing the subject. I let her, because I can see the way her eyes are flashing with hurt, and I don't want to prolong the moment for her.

"I am expected somewhere soon, actually," I say, pulling out my wallet and throwing a few notes on the table. "Did you need a lift home? Or are you planning to spend more time in town?"

Grace starts as she stares at the money, before looking back up at me. "You don't need to pay for all of it," she says, eyes blinking rapidly before she turns to grab at her own wallet. "I can put in for mine and Lucas's portions, hang on."

My lips curl down in further disgust and annoyance—not at her, but at her pale little flap of an ex. When Grace had made her comment about the internet bill, such a surge of anger had coursed through me at the implications, I'd almost stood up and punched him in the jaw then and there. Was he making her pay for everything? Was he expecting it, demanding

it? Did he really, seriously, only bother to come and ‘fight for his love' when he'd lost the monetary benefits she provided to him?

Reaching across the space between us, I lay my palm over Grace's hand, holding her wallet firmly shut beneath our fingers. I've decided that she will not pay for a single thing ever again, for as long as I'm around. It's the least I can do for her.

"Please," I say quietly, offering a soft smile so she doesn't think the annoyance I'm feeling is directed towards her. "I want to."

"But—"

"Are you going to make me beg?"

"But — "

"If you let me pay now," I interrupt, "I might let you do it next time." I absolutely will not, but she doesn't need to know that yet.

Her shoulders loosen and she stops trying to open her wallet. "Next time, huh? That's pretty presumptuous."

"Of course," I say, satisfied, giving her hand one last squeeze before letting it drop. "You forget, in the eyes of everyone here—and therefore, the eyes of the entire town by this afternoon—I am your male now."

Her nose scrunches in the cutest little expression. "Oh, god, I'm so sorry, Oli! Of course you don't have to keep up with that dumb ruse, I shouldn't have pulled you into this in the first place."

My heart drops at her words, and I wonder if I… liked the idea?

"I don't mind," I say, as she gathers her belongings and signals Lucas to join us.

"Please, you're too sweet," she says, taking a parting mouthful of red velvet before turning for the door. "You don't have to go along with it out of politeness. I can fight my own battles."

She has a tiny bit of cream smeared just on the edge of her bottom lip, and the mental image of leaning over to lick it clean for her suddenly distracts me from the rest of my thoughts.

"Lucas, baby, come on!" We stop by the door as she calls for her son. "We're leaving!"

Without any conscious thought my thumb appears at her lower lip, and I brush away the little smear of cream. The way her cheeks pink, her mouth popping open on a quiet gasp as she looks up at me with wide blue eyes at my unexpected action…

Her gaze holds a spark of arousal, and it sends a frisson of desire through me. I move my thumb to my own lips and lightly suck the cream away, watching with deep satisfaction as she drops her gaze to track the motion with rapt attention. The air between us sizzles, and I wonder what she'd do if I were to slide my fingers to the nip of her waist again.

"Momma, can I take this with me?"

Grace practically jumps out of her skin as Lucas appears at our side, cutting through the tension as he waves a small wooden dinosaur between us.

"What? Uh, no. What?" She shakes herself back to her senses, and I bite my lip to hold in a smile as I watch her come back to reality. "Put that back, Lucas, this isn't a toy store."

"But mom . "

"Now, baby, or else."

When he stomps off huffily and she finally looks back at me, still flustered and possibly embarrassed, I can't help myself. I swipe my thumb across my lips, and smile. "Delicious."

"Oh my god." Her eyes roll, her blush deepens, and she smacks me in the chest before stepping back. "Can you please just…"

Can I just, what? Stop teasing her? Kiss her? My smile stretches as I lean past her to open the door, and I could swear her breath catches in her chest.

She may be hesitant now, but she wants me. And she doesn't hate my continued flirting. In fact, I'm quite sure she likes it.

This may not ever turn into anything, and I would accept that… But then again, it might.

***

Within twenty minutes of leaving Bitter Sweet, my cell starts going crazy with calls and messages, which I steadfastly ignore. I slide my Mercedes into the parking lot by the construction site, letting the loud jingle of another call die out in my pocket as I head towards the lodge Rho and I are building in a joint venture with the newest ‘tourism' sector of our little local government—which is essentially just a sweet elder witch named Ismelda, and all the funds she somehow manages to swindle our way.

I head towards the fifty-room lodge, nestled right by the forest of Boise National Park and looking promisingly picturesque already, despite that the lodge itself is still an empty husk of a building. If we can puff up enough publicity and get tourists nice and interested in Whispering Pines by the time this is complete in another year or so, I have no doubt about the success that Hearthstone Lodge will bring.

I finally spot Rho's green ass as I walk, holding a giant blueprint with Malachite, the gargoyle who invested in the project a little later than the rest of us, and who will also be head of security once we're operational. I'm fairly sure I saw Ismelda's car in the lot, too, but I don't yet see her around.

"Good afternoon," I say without warning as I approach from behind, clapping my hands on both male's shoulders and knocking my horns between their hard-hats as I shove my way between them. "What have I missed?"

Malachite's already stiff form stiffens further at my touch, his large black wings buffeting into me with a twitch, as Rho shrugs me off and glares.

"I told you to wear a hat when you come in here," Rho growls in annoyance.

"And I told you it ruins my hair," I reply airily. "So, what have I missed? Are we on track with the genius Half-Opening Night I came up with for marketing exposure, or is Ismelda still hemming

and hawing

about hosting it on construction grounds?"

"I was never hemming

and hawing , thank you very much, young male." Ismelda's voice says from behind me.

"Good afternoon, my dear!" I turn to smile at her as she enters our circle, her long salt-and-pepper hair in its signature thick braid that's slung over her shoulder.

"I only told you it might be difficult," she continues, her kind, plump face lined with amusement. "But lucky for you, I can be very persuasive. We finally have all necessary permits approved for the event."

"That's good," I say, as my phone begins another round of its obnoxious ring tone. "Because Sera's PR team has already organized the journalists and influencers attending for promotion."

Beside me, Malachite's obsidian face pulls into a frown. "What if we hadn't gotten approved?" But I ignore the question.

"And I've already hired the stylers to get the garden ready for the dinner. They're starting tomorrow, by the way." My phone stops ringing, and I pull it out just to double check the caller ID.

Nine missed calls from Seraphina.

Yep, she's still at it.

"For fuck's sake, Oli!" Rho throws up his hands in annoyance. "You have business partners for a reason."

"You're all busy. Don't worry, I've got your back." My phone starts ringing again.

"And can you please answer your cell, you annoying bull." At Rho's words, Malachite's emerald-green gaze flicks to my palm, but he doesn't say anything. "Or put it on silent like the rest of us."

I scrunch my nose. "The buzzing annoys me."

"What if Seraphina has news about the event?" Malachite asks, his eyes once more tracking to my phone, where her name flashes.

"She doesn't."

"But…she's head of the PR team. What else would she be contacting you for."

I sigh as the ring tone stops again, and the ping of an incoming text sounds in its place. I flick the phone towards him so he can read the message preview that pops down.

He stares at the phone blankly, before looking at me without changing expression. "Should you really be showing me that?"

I glance down at the preview message again.

Which hussy were you having lunch…

I don't even want to open it to read the rest. How many times do I have to explain to her that our time together, however beautiful, is over now? In truth, Sera is a viper of a female, and I'm beginning to find her attitude more and more difficult to deal with. Her negativity, the different personas she wears depending on who's in the room, her rudeness to wait-staff which never lets up no matter how many times I speak to her about it… not to mention the fact that she'd been hinting recently that she wanted more from me than just a tumble between the sheets.

Even if I was looking to settle down, I could never do it with someone like Sera, who I suspect only has eyes for my wallet. No, it's definitely time to extricate myself from her talons.

I shake my head and shove my phone away. Not that I'm looking to settle down. Where did that thought come from?

"Olistaire, dear," Ismelda says, her voice holding a touch of warning. "Is this really how you should be handling that poor female?"

"Oh, don't poor female

me," I mutter. "That harpy can handle herself, and we all know it. I've spoken to her multiple times, and she refuses to accept my decision to stop seeing her. How is that my fault?"

Rho smirks, folds his arms over his wide chest and says, "Karma," with a snort.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Alright, now, boys," Ismelda interjects, although a thoughtful expression enters her eyes as she turns to me. "Maybe Sera just needs to see that you've moved on?"

My date with Grace today immediately pops back into my mind, specifically the little deception she pulled on Brad, and I hum. "Interesting."

Rho immediately groans. "Get Grace out of your head."

I can't help but grin openly as I glance back at him. He knows me so well. "Actually, her unstuffed pillow of an ex came into town today, and she claimed me as her male in front of him to get him to leave."

"Oh, really, I hadn't heard," Ismelda mumbles innocently.

True, Grace dismissed the idea of continuing our little lie and I'd let the matter drop without much consideration. But now, the more I think about it, the more convinced I am that we need to revisit the plan, for both our sakes.

"Why," Rho growls with a twitch of his eye, "were you with her? I told you to leave her be."

"If we start cavorting around in public more often," I continue, paying no attention to the orc, "it could benefit us both in the short term."

And I'd have the perfect excuse to spend more time with her, which is a pleasure in its own right.

"Oli, that's my mate's sister. There are so many other females in town, go bother one of them."

"But they're not Grace."

"Grace doesn't want a man in any capacity right now," Rho reminds me, but I wave his words away.

"People change their minds all the time," I mutter slyly, quickly continuing before he can say more. "Besides, Bradley

doesn't know that. And neither does Sera. This could be the perfect scenario for the both of us."

Ismelda cocks her head to the side as she studies me. "Be careful that you don't overstep with her."

"I would never," I tell her seriously, and she smiles.

"Well, as long as you promise to be on your best behavior, I can't say I disapprove."

Rho turns his glare towards the witch. "Traitor."

Malachite clears his throat. "Shouldn't we be discussing—"

"What about you?" I interrupt, having half-forgotten he was still here. "What do you think, it's a good idea, right? It solves both mine and Grace's problems, and nobody gets hurt in the process."

He only stares at me blankly.

"Oh, come on, Mal! Give us your thoughts."

The gargoyle clears his throat again, and shifts his weight. "I'd rather not."

"He doesn't think it's a good idea," Rho huffs, "because he's a sane being with a rational mind, and your idea is idiotic."

"I think it's romantic," Ismelda says. "It's the perfect environment for true love to grow."

"Well," I hedge, "let's not get too ahead of ourselves."

"This is ridiculous," Rho growls.

"Don't worry your little heart, Rhokar," Ismelda says, with tiny love-hearts practically glittering out of her eyes. "Things will work out just as they should."

Malachite clears his throat again, looking away from us all awkwardly. "I really do think we should get back to discussing the build."

"Alright, you do that," I say, pulling out my cell once more and scrolling through my contacts as I begin walking back to my car. "I trust you three implicitly."

"Wait," Malachite awkwardly calls out. "You didn't even…"

"Leave him," Rho gruffs as I continue on my way, "we don't need the bastard."

I grin and throw him a wink over my shoulder, soaking in his glare like it was approval, and I dial Grace.

We were only going to go over logistics today now that the final stage of the lodge's framework is officially complete, and I had Ella send me over all her notes this morning, anyway. That female is an exceptional Project Manager with excellent notetaking, and if these three make any decisions while I'm not there I trust that Rho will inform me before the day ends.

Besides, I have a different sort of deal to make right now.