Page 17 of Alfie

“Human soulmates were still pretty new to us when he and Trina found each other. It worked out, but it could have been a disaster. Look how things went with Lucius and Sidney. Keeping the secret is not easy, but it’s the best thing to keep our people safe.”

Jeanie set down the plate with a large piece of breakfast casserole—potatoes, eggs, sausage gravy, and cheese—along with a bowl of biscuits in front of him, then put her hand on her mate’s shoulder. “What’s keeping our people safe? Is this about your soulmate?”

“Yeah,” Alfie said. “I was just pondering how long it will take for me to win her heart, especially when I can’t stay with her overnight at her place, or for her to stay over at the apartment here.”

“It’s easy for us humans to think that others will view how fast the relationship develops as something that’s wrong,” Jeanie said. “I felt so connected to Joss so fast, but part of me wanted to put the brakes on just because it was quick. What helped me was knowing that he was falling just as fast as I was, so I wasn’t alone in thinking he was the bee’s knees, as my grandma would say.”

“Buzz buzz,” Joss said, wiggling his brows at her.

Alfie shook his head and chuckled. “So I need to make sure she knows that I’m falling for her.”

“Be all in and be real with her,” Jeanie said.

Alfie nodded. He’d show up for her, however she wanted and needed. He’d be real.

And hopefully before too long, he’d win her heart.

Chapter Eight

Thursday afternoon, as Myla headed to her parents’ house to help with the setup for their New Year’s Eve party the following night, she realized that she’d talked to Alfie every day since they’d met, and had seen him not only Sunday, but Tuesday and Wednesday as well. They’d gone for dinner Tuesday after work, and he’d brought her a tin of sugared orange jellies. She’d nearly swooned off her feet with how amazing it was that he remembered her mentioning casually about her favorite candy and then brought it to her.

Wednesday, he’d asked her if he could take her to work and drop her home, because he’d been worried about the weather. And when he’d picked her up, he’d brought her hot chocolate with marshmallow cream, peanut butter candies, and chocolate sprinkles. They’d sat in the car in the parking lot and talked and drank hot chocolate while the snow fell. It had been magical in a way she hadn’t expected.

And made her realize, also, that she was falling for him.

They hadn’t tangled in a hot and heavy way again, but they’d kissed a whole bunch, and she thought his lips were so erotically charged that she found herself daydreaming about them. How could a guy have perfect lips?

She parked behind her mom’s car in the driveway and got out, reaching in to grab the plastic container of cupcakes she’d made that morning. The house she’d grown up in was a testament to her dad’s impeccable lawn maintenance skills and her mom’s determination to have the best-looking flower beds on the block. Even though it was winter, the flower beds were filled with faux poinsettias and lighting that would make the whole house glow for the party.

The annual tradition had started when her parents were first married, and was one that everyone looked forward to. The party was always simple and sweet: good food, good friends and family, and the encouragement for everyone to have a plus-one to kiss at the ball drop. At least once she and her brother had been old enough to bring dates. Although if her dad had his way, he probably wouldn’t have wanted her to date until she was thirty.

“Mom?” she called, opening the door.

“In the kitchen, honey.”

She shut the door and pulled off her stocking cap, then hung up her coat and hat and carried her cupcakes into the kitchen. She gave her mom a hug and put the cupcakes on the counter that was mostly full of her mom’s serving bowls and platters. She could smell bread baking, and knew her mom was making her famous bread trio: sourdough, cranberry walnut, and apple cinnamon. The breads would be sliced and served alongside fresh butter from an Amish market.

Her mom, Stacy, opened the container lid and smiled. “These look great, honey. Alice is on her way, and she’s bringing Chex mix.”

“Yum. Put me to work, Ma.”

Her mom directed her to the dining room to iron the tablecloths that would cover the plastic folding tables for the food. The other rooms of the house were full of chairs and TV trays, and every available surface had some sort of decoration on it, from electric glitter-covered candles, to bunches of gold and black balloons in the corners of the rooms, to hats and noisemakers ready for the ball drop.

“Did you ever think you’d still be hosting this party after all these years?” she asked as she spread the first white-and-gold tablecloth over the old ironing board and gave the iron a test burst of steam.

“Heck no,” her mom said with a laugh. “I wanted to stop year three, but Dad wanted to keep going. I do love it, though. I wouldn’t change a thing about opening our home to the people we love. Maybe someday you and Alice can take the reins and host.”

“Not for a long time, I hope,” Myla said.

“Tell me about your new beau.”

“That makes it sound really formal,” she said.

“It’s just a term of endearment. So how are things going?”

“Good. Really good.” She told her mom about their dates and the texts and calls, and how much she enjoyed being with him and talking to him.

“Aw.”