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“Star-crossed lovers?”
Shrugging, I pushed myself up and let out a long sigh. “No, not really. Maybe. She never talks about him in that way. But I know it hurt her when he cut us off in favor of the nobility. Anyway, let’s get going. Camille and I need to stop and pick up Iris’s wedding gift and her cake. You go home and help out there.”
“What about the demons?”
“Until tonight’s over, the demons can fucking eat my dust. Today is Iris’s wedding, and nothing is going to put a stop to it. She’s waited a long time for this day…I won’t let anything else interfere.”
“Come on, babe. I’ll walk you out to the car.” Shade draped his arm around my shoulders and as we headed toward the door, all I could think of was that I really, really wanted a vacation.
Chapter 8
Smoky took Morio home through the Ionyc Seas, and Shade traveled on his own. Camille and I stopped in the women’s bathroom on the way out to clean up the best we could, then headed toward our first stop: The Scarlet Harlot.
The shop was originally owned by Erin Mathews, an FBH. But when she’d been targeted by Menolly’s sire, Menolly managed to turn her before she died and now Erin was essentially Menolly’s middle-aged daughter. Tim Winthrop had bought out Erin, and he ran the lingerie store now.
On the way there, I waited to see if she wanted to talk about Shamas, but she just stared out the window. After a few minutes, she cleared her throat.
“I hope Iris loves her gift. And those damned demons better not put in an appearance tonight. Nobody’s messing with Iris’s wedding.”
“No…they probably won’t. Tregarts can’t break through our wards.”
“Asheré could—he was a powerful sorcerer.” Once again, an edge of fear tinged her voice, but then she paused and took a deep breath. “You’re right. They’d be fools to show up when all of the Supes are going to be there. Iris invited at least a hundred people.” Camille hung her head, her fingers worrying the material of her skirt. “Why’d he do it, Kitten? Why did he have to do that?”
I pressed my lips together. There was no answer. None that Shamas hadn’t already given us. After a moment, I let out a short huff. “He was stupid. Impulsive. He probably didn’t think. I don’t think he meant to hurt you. I doubt that ever crossed his mind.”
She shrugged. “Doesn’t matter, I guess. At least it tells us something about one of the Tregarts we’re facing.”
I didn’t want to ask, but I had to. “Do you love Shamas?”
“What?” She jerked around, staring at me like I’d grown another head. “No. I mean…not now.” Flustered, she stumbled over her words. “Let me start again. Okay, yeah, I did. Many years ago, when we were younger, before I realized that Mother’s blood meant I’d never be able to marry him. And while I’m most comfortable with a poly relationship, when it comes to Court and Crown, mistresses take second place. And I never settle for second. But now?” She shook her head. “I care about him. I love him—as a cousin. But am I in love with him? No, that ship sailed and sank a long time ago.”
She gave me a slow smile. “Chase is worried about a familial connection that’s so long-stretched it’s barely existent. He would freak about the connections made back home. So, let’s talk about something else.”
“Good idea. I’m tired of blood and fighting. I want one evening when we can just have fun, let go, and not worry.” We reached the Scarlet Harlot—a block or so away from Camille’s bookstore—and I veered into an open parking spot. Every time she was in the car, Camille was able to conjure up a parking spot. I always considered her a good-luck charm when it came to shopping.
We hopped out of the Jeep and slammed the doors, heading into the shop. Tim was behind the counter. We hadn’t had a chance to really chat with him in ages, and he looked good. Tim had let his hair grow till it was shoulder length. It was curly and gave him a pretty-boy look. He was wearing a black tank, black leather pants, and a silver belt. When he saw us, he put one hand on the counter and swung over the top.
“You’ve been working out, dude. Look at those abs. I can see them under the shirt.” Camille pressed her hand to his chest and gave him a quick kiss on the lips. I crowded in for a kiss, too.
“I’ve been putting in spare time at the gym as a personal trainer, as well as doing website work on the side. Jason’s shop hasn’t been doing as much business lately, so we can use the extra money.” He tousled my hair. “Still love the hair, girl.”
Winking at him, I hopped up on the counter to sit while Camille meandered around the shop. She spent a fortune here, on bustiers and lingerie. I’d bought a few bras and panties from them but felt out of place in lace and satin. But this time a leopard-print bra caught my eye. It was microfiber, which would be comfortable, with just a hint of black lace.
Tim grabbed it out of my hands and unfurled a measuring tape. “You need a bra fitting, my girl. I doubt if you’ve ever been properly fitted.”
I stared at him. “What’s to fit? You find one that holds your boobs and bingo…”
“No bingo. Now raise your arms, out to the side.” He measured me around the bra band and then around the breasts. “What size do you usually buy?”
Frowning, I tried to remember. “I think a thirty-six B.”
“You take a thirty-four C.” He flipped through the leopard-print bras and brought one out. “Go try this on. Meanwhile, I’ll get Iris’s present out of the back for you.”
I slipped back to the dressing room and tried on the bra. Damned if Tim wasn’t right. Suddenly my breasts looked more upright and curvy. And the bra fit a lot better. Heading back into the main room, I saw Camille holding up a gorgeous cornflower blue peignoir. It was perfect for Iris.
“That’s gorgeous,” I whispered. The lace was hand-stitched, and it was made of sheer silk. “Iris will love it. So will Bruce, for that matter.”
Tim nodded. “I’ll gift wrap it. Did that bra work out for you?”
