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Pride fills my chest as I look at my Little Nymph approaching my front door. She still looks intimidated by the pretentious building, but there’s a rigidness to her shoulders, and her head’s held high.
Between her newly colored pastel green hair and her knee-length floral dress, she looks like she sprouted from the forest.
She’s everything this world hates and everything I want.
I’d have been happy to never come back here, but there was a wild glint in her eyes when she suggested it’s the perfect spot to meet my mother.
Misty looks back at me, holding her hand out. “You ready?”
“Always.” I reach for it, entwining our fingers, and tug her chest into mine.
She stumbles into me, and I steady her with an arm, skin meeting skin when I wrap it around her lower back.
I run my thumb along her scar, tracing its ridges back and forth, and marvel at the way she erupts with goose bumps. She feels delicate in my arms, but she’s strong. Stronger than I’ll ever be, and I’m so fucking in love with her.
I kiss her on her temple and graze the shell of her ear with my lips. “I love you.”
She pulls back, smiling wide. “I love you too.” Her smile turns into a wicked smirk that makes me want to drag her back home to worship her. “Now, let’s go harass your mother.”
My body goes rigid, but if Misty notices, she doesn’t say anything, instead moving toward the door. My mother better be on her best fucking behavior.
The house has always been cold, but seeing it through Misty’s eyes has me hating it. I’d let my mother renovate it prior to me moving in. It’s all muted tones and cold stone. It lacks the life and warmth that our apartment has.
My Little Nymph’s eyes are wide as she takes the room in. There are two grand staircases flanking the entrance, leading up to the second floor, framing a ginormous chandelier that’s made to look like it has a thousand candles on it.
She points up at it. “I kinda like that.”
“You have excellent taste. That’s a Mernier piece.” My mother’s tone grates on my ears. It still holds an edge of haughtiness I’m not sure will ever disappear, but she’ll have to learn to fake it when speaking with my wife.
“It’s a little gaudy, but I like over-the-top things.” Misty shrugs as if she didn’t just directly insult my mother, and her confidence has my cock growing hard.
A muscle ticks in my mother’s cheek as she weighs the situation. She looks at where my fingers are firmly curled around Misty’s hip, then back to me.
I raise a brow, letting her know that I won’t come to her defense. That I will never pick her over my wife.
She lets out a slow breath and plasters on a fake smile. “Dear, I think I owe you an apology.”
Misty cocks her head to the side, making her appear at complete ease, but she leans into me for support. “Do you? What for?”
My mother stiffens, not expecting to be questioned. She glances at me again, then back. “I was terribly rude to you.”
“Oh yes, I remember. What was it? You said that I was chasing at Damon’s feet, but not to misunderstand. He could never love me, and I didn’t belong with him. Am I remembering that correctly?”
The blood drains from my mother’s face. “You must forgive me. I was under the weather that day. Of course you are the perfect wife to my Damon.”
Misty looks her up and down before tucking herself into my side. “Of course. You’re Damon’s family, which makes us family, right?”
“Right.” I kiss the top of her head, resting my chin there. “Didn’t you say you had somewhere you needed to be, Mother?”
Sharp eyes meet mine, but she bows her head slightly. “Yes, afternoon tea. I will see you both later.”
Unlikely. She may have apologized, but I have no plans on letting her be anywhere near my Little Nymph.
When the door closes, Misty collapses back into me, a sigh escaping her lips. “She’s exhausting.”
I spin her in my arms and capture her mouth with mine. “I know the perfect way to help you relax.” I look around. “But not here.”
Misty:
