17. Errol

Chapter 17

Errol

My mate and I had sort of done things backwards. I wouldn't change it for the world. We went on the journey we needed, but also, I was well aware that it wasn't your typical dating.

We started with me borrowing money, something people did only after knowing each other for years unless they were a banker or a loan shark. We went straight from there to meeting Grams, my closest family. Had Grams not mooned the officer, we'd probably have never met—or maybe we would've, given that he was my true mate, but I didn't know it at the time. He did, but I was obliviously human.

Then I mated him out of instinct. It was only later that I discovered the truth of who he was—that he was a unicorn and we were put on this earth specifically for each other.

In the time since I first accidentally called him, we had mated, I met his family, he met mine, and we did all the things a couple would—except we missed a step along the way; saying I love you.

Sure, we'd said things like "my love" or "I love you" in the throes of passion, usually with expletives after somebody did something particularly arousing, but we'd never had the true "I love yous," the ones that said, "You're my person."

Maybe it was the human in me, but I wanted that, and I wanted it to be special. Yes, we were mated forever, and yes, we loved each other very much—none of that was in question. But I wanted that moment, the one we remembered for always and forever. And because I was me, I decided to create it for myself.

I went to the farmers' market and grabbed pretty much everything that looked good. Tonight wasn't just about me, and it wasn't just about Davien—it was also about his unicorn. To honor his beast, I decided to make a very nice vegetarian dinner. I didn't know exactly what I was going to make, but I knew it needed a lot of vegetables. When I got home, that's exactly what I had—lots of vegetables and no plan.

I opened my laptop and pulled up a website where you could input what food you had in the house, and it would suggest meals. I entered everything I had, along with some pantry staples, and it suggested a kind of vegetable stew. I wasn't sure it sounded particularly amazing, but it was missing a lot of things I normally ate, so I figured that was why it would be good. Better with beef in it, but what could you do?

I spent the afternoon preparing it, and I had to admit, it smelled pretty yum.

When Davien arrived, he brought flowers with him. It was sweet. He liked to do that. To surprise me with spontaneous gifts. At first I felt bad. He had money to spend on things like that and I didn't. But now? Now I saw how much it meant to him, and I allowed myself to just enjoy the gesture.

"I saw these and thought of you." He kissed my cheek.

"You did?" I smelled them—they didn't have much aroma, but then I noticed the little pick in it with a unicorn on it. "You did think of me!" I gave him a quick kiss and let him into the kitchen, where I put the flowers in water.

"What smells good?" he asked, hesitating before saying "good," which worried me a little.

"I went to the farmers' market today. I wanted to make a special meal for us, one that even your unicorn would enjoy."

He lifted the lid of the pot. "He'll definitely enjoy this."

Davien helped me set the table, and I served us bowls of stew with some crusty bread I had also found at the market. I took one spoonful and realized his initial praise of it being good was a lie. It was bland. Blander than bland.

"Is it me, or does this have no flavor?"

"No, it's good," he said. He was still lying. It very much was not. Edible, sure. But nowhere near good.

At the time, I thought it was odd that there weren't any spices in it, but I figured it had to do with the vegetables or something. I didn't know—I just went with it. I was now facing the errors of my ways, and I started to cry, of all things.

"Oh honey, don't cry," he said, getting up to pull me into a hug.

"I wanted to make this special, make this meal good for you and your beast. I just wanted tonight to be perfect." And was failing at every corner.

"Of course, it's perfect. You did this for me, for us. Look at all the work you did."

"But I wanted it to be good," I said, my voice wobbling, emotions so close to the surface. What was wrong with me? "Actual good, not mate-being-kind good.

He tipped my head up so I was looking at him. "You know, I don't love you for your cooking. I love you for everything else."

He meant it to be kind and sweet, but it only made me cry harder. I'd worked so hard to create the perfect time for us to tell each other about our love and here he was telling me for the first time as tears ran down my face and I was sucking snot.

"Honey, tell me what's wrong."

I hated that I had him worrying so.

I told him about my plan, how I wanted to make a special memory where we shared our love for each other for the first time. I braced myself for him to tell me I was being overdramatic or that it didn't matter, belittling it in some way. Apparently, I had some baggage from past relationships I hadn't dealt with.

But he didn't do any of that.

Instead, he said, "Let's go get dressed up. I'll put on a shirt and tie, and we'll head to that steak place you've been talking about."

"But—"

"No buts. We're going to have an amazing dinner as the best-looking couple there, and then we're going to tell each other we love each other for the very first time in some big, romantic way. One we'll remember forever and tell our grandbabies about."

Grandbabies. I loved the sound of that.

"You must think I'm so silly, sitting here crying over something like this." Because I sure did.

"No, I don't. I think you're romantic, and I think you love me." He kissed my lips. "And I think you put too much pressure on yourself to make today ideal, forgetting the fact that every day with you is a perfect day. It doesn't matter what we do or what happens—I've always got you in my corner."

We did get dressed up and go to the steakhouse. I was surprised he managed to get us a reservation, the place was pretty packed. But he had, and the two of us ordered steak, ate looking out the window and the river flowing by and each other, and had a great time.

We had the most amazingly delicious meal I'd ever eaten and was complete with romantic gestures of love as dessert came. It was everything I wanted, only to discover it wasn't what mattered. Sure, it was nice to have a date night with great food and company and to express your love for one another. But at the end of the day, when I looked back at this night, it wasn't going to be for the things I had planned. It wasn't going to be for the first "I love yous" or the fancy date. It wasn't going to be how amazing he looked in his shirt and tie.

It was going to be about the way my mate accepted me—my humanness—and made sure I had what I needed. It was how I realized, in that moment, that I didn't just love him... he was my world.

And I was his.

Fate had really known what they were doing when they decided we were mates.

"I love you," I squeezed his hand as we reached the car. I love you so much that I sometimes wonder if this is all a dream."

"It's not, Errol. But if it were, I'd never want to wake up." He reached behind me to open the car door. "Let me get you home and naked."

"I have a better idea."

"Better than making love to my mate?"

"I didn't say we weren't doing that. I thought a change of venue might be nice."

He looked at me quizzically.

"Let's go to the orchard. I want to spend some time with my unicorn, and then you can make me come so hard, they hear me calling your name three counties away."