9. Angie

9

ANGIE

" H old on." I tugged my hands out of Tuvid's. "This is a joke, right?" My gaze flicked between him and his still-gasping mother, a rather pretty older gargoyle with wings lacier and more delicate than her son's.

"I'm afraid it's not a joke," he said in complete seriousness, still poised on bended knee in front of me.

I peered around, expecting to find cameras trained on us. "This is one of those TV pranks, right? Someone will jump out and shout that's a take , and we'll return to a world closer to normal."

"It's not a prank," he said, straightening to tower over me once more. He cast a solemn look between me and his mom.

My mother watched this unfold with her eyebrows lifted and a smile twitching the corners of her mouth upward. She'd been determined to fix me up with someone, and it was clear she saw this as a prime opportunity.

"It's the twenty-first century," I said. "There's no such thing as ruining someone's reputation anymore, let alone them being ruined because two people spent the night in a chiller together."

"No, no," his mother cried out, her hands fluttering at her throat. "Please tell me it didn't happen." Her eyes rolled back in her head.

And when she started to swoon . . .

Tuvid leaped toward her and swept her up in his arms, holding her close while her head tilted back along his arm.

"She needs to sit down," Mom said, ever practical. "Or lie down for a spell, I guess, since she appears to be out of it for the moment."

Tuvid carried her over to a bench on the far-right wall and dropped onto it with her still unconscious in his arms.

"Why are you here, Mom?" I asked. Should I get his mom a cold washcloth? We didn't have washcloths here, but we had plenty of clean rags.

"Well, it's an interesting story," Mom said with a sigh.

"Shorten it for me, would you? It's been a long night."

"Tuvid's mother and I met at a basketweaving class at the high school. Adult ed. You know what I mean. The instructor's rushes are amazing. All sorts of colors. I've already made two small, simple baskets, and I'm about to begin something larger, though I'm not going to mention anything else about it, because Christmas is coming!"

I nodded, wishing she'd get to her point.

"I was telling Krunesta—that's his mother's name. I'll be sure to formally introduce you, but we'll hold off until she's awake. "

"Get to it, Mom."

"I'm getting there, darling." She rubbed my arm. "I was telling Krunesta how I'd recently opened Monster Cupid, and she told me she'd actually heard about my new business. Can you imagine that? I've barely opened, and I've already built a solid reputation in town."

"That's nice."

"Truly. Krunesta said she wanted to fix her son up with someone. Naturally, I thought of you, my beloved daughter." She stroked my cheek, which was the only reason I didn't snap at her. I loved my mom. She meant well. But sometimes, she irritated the heck out of me. "She came by my business last evening, and I showed her your picture—"

"You have a picture of me?" It was all I could do not to snarl.

"How else will I put you in my online catalogue of available females?"

"I'm not letting you do that, Mom."

She gave me a sly grin. "Not yet and maybe not ever now." Her feet shuffled in a brief dance of excitement. "Krunesta thought you were just lovely, and she shared Tuvid's picture with me." She glanced toward them. "He's cute, isn't he? And he has a good job. He's well respected in the gargoyle community. And his mother's such a dear. Her basket weaving is amazing, if I do say so myself. You two are a match made in heaven."

"Mom," I growled.

Her grin widened. "We decided to meet early this morning to take a walk in the park. You know how hot it gets during the day. Two miles is just too much once the temp goes above seventy. Since she kept asking for details about you, we went to your home for an introduction, which is normally the first step in gargoyle matchmaking. The mother often chooses a few potential brides for her son, and he selects from among them."

"No."

"Yes, they do." She frowned. "She explicitly told me that. Your dahlias look amazing, by the way. You need to do some weeding in the front gardens, but I can come by over the weekend and do that for you, because I'm sure you'll be busy. You're such a hard worker. I specifically told Krunesta that."

I flung my arms up. "Mom."

"I'm getting there, honey. You weren't home and your car wasn't in your garage or driveway. You weren't out back or in your bedroom or living room. I looked. Since I know you're not an early riser like me, and your bed appeared untouched, I was worried. You could've been kidnapped."

"Maybe I decided to come into work early."

"Did you?"

"You just saw that I've been here all night."

"Exactly. And that's a big problem."

I was beginning to see that.

"Anyway," she said. "I was worried, and your soon-to-be mother-in-law—"

"She's not." Ugh. "We're not—"

"She and I drove over here straight away to look for you, and it's a good thing we did. You could've frozen to death. But it's all settled, and we can start making plans."

"Plans for what? "

Her gaze scanned down my front. "I think my wedding dress will fit. We can let out the seams in the chest area since you're bigger there, and I'm sure the seamstress can do something about the length. We'll take it to Enchanted Needles. Kylie does amazing things with fabric. Taffeta needs the right touch, you know."

Enchanted Needles specialized in both tailoring and tattoos, an odd combination that, for some reason, worked.

"Mom," I said as she kept chattering about whether I'd look good in her veil and if we should go with wildflowers or something cultivated in my hair instead.

"If we go with cultivated," she said, "we'll need to place an order as soon as possible with Fairytale Florals because I imagine they'll be close to booked on such short notice. Sunbeam adores me, however, so I'm confident she'll squeeze you in."

"Mom," I groaned. Once she got started, it was a challenge to get her to stop.

"As far as caterers go, Bites we were talking about marriage .

"I have a suggestion." He grunted, and by the way creases grew on his gorgeous face, I could tell he was in as deep thought as me. "It's something that might work well for both of us."

"Go ahead."

"Let's say we'll get married. We can break up before the wedding."