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He let go of my head, grasping the sheets to either side, his knuckles white.
“Oh babe…you’re so good.Don’t stop…blow me, babe, blow me.”
As I picked up the pace, he let out one last moan, bucking as he came. The salty spray of his jizz filled my mouth and I swallowed, finishing him off. A moment later, he dropped back against the pillows, grunting, and pulled me into his arms. He offered me a tissue and a mint. I wiped my lips, then popped the mint in my mouth.
“Good morning to you, too,” he said. “What did I do to deserve that treat?” He leaned down and kissed the top of my head.
“I wanted to say thank you…for being you. For being so great to me over the past few weeks. I know we haven’t had as much sex as either one of us wants, with the headaches and all.”
He gathered me close and stroked my cheek. “What we have is fine. We’ll figure out our way through this. And quality is always better than quantity. Don’t worry. I’m not going anywhere…except to work,” he added, glancing at the clock. “We’ll both be late if we don’t get moving.” Pausing, he added, “Can you make it to work today?”
“Yeah, I should be fine. The headache that was starting last night seems to have disappeared, thank gods.”
“Do you want me to take care of you before we head out? I’m ready, willing, and able,” he said, sliding his hand down my belly.
“I’d love it, but you’re right, we’ll be late if we don’t head out. I do need breakfast, though. Do we have any doughnuts?”
Killian slipped out from beneath the covers. “I don’t know, but you’re better off with a sausage cheese muffin, rather than sugar. Hate to remind you, love, but sugar makes your migraines worse.”
That was one unacceptable truth that we’d discovered over the past weeks. When I ate more than a few bites of a sugary product, my migraines were more likely to come on and stick around longer.
“I don’t care,” I said, frowning. “Well, yes I do but…okay, I’ll meet you in the kitchen. I need to rinse off under the shower quickly.”
As I headed for the shower, Killian slid into a pair of pants and a button-down shirt, then brushed his hair back into a ponytail and headed to the kitchen.
I watched him go, then ducked in for a quick shower. Afterward, I dressed in a maxi skirt and V-neck sweater. I fastened my hair back and slapped on a quick face of makeup. Ready for work, I headed to the kitchen, where Killian had made toast. I spread peanut butter on two slices, then a thin layer of honey. Sandwich in hand, I grabbed my purse and followed him out to our cars.
With one last goodbye, we headed off to work, the day officially started.
* * *
Conjure Ink was now firmly establishedat our new address. The downstairs of the house, with the exception of the kitchen and the bathrooms, was officially office space. Tad lived upstairs, and had turned the entire floor into an apartment. He used the kitchen downstairs, but otherwise, almost all of his personal items were out of sight.
As I entered the office, everybody was there except for Wren. I glanced at her desk, which looked untouched.
“Wren out today?” I asked.
Tad glanced up at me. “Walter’s having a rough day. She called in about twenty minutes ago. How areyoufeeling?”
Tad had been exceptionally helpful when I developed the chronic migraines, and he went above and beyond for all of us. I did my best to be in the office as many days as I could, but cutting my time by 40 percent gave me a lot of leeway. Of course, my headaches didn’t run on a schedule, so sometimes we had to change things out, but overall, I managed my new schedule without too much interruption.
“I’m okay, I think. Had a headache looming last night, but it seems to have backed off today.” I settled in at my desk. I had stopped on the way to get a latte and a bag of nuts to munch on. I was making more of an attempt to keep my blood sugar balanced, which helped my system and therefore, my headaches.
We gathered at the main table, notes in hand. Tad was about to call the meeting to order when my phone jangled, notifying me of a text. It was the caterer. We were going with Twinkle Toes Catering for the actual food—they were kitchen witches who always added a touch of magic to their food. The cake, we had already ordered from a baker in town.
can you come in this afternoon? we have a last-minute emergency—we may not be able to get the crab for your wedding. it would be good to have a substitute planned, so could you drop by around two in order to discuss a backup plan?
I texted back:i can make it around two. see you then.
“Tad? My caterer needs to see me at this afternoon—there’s some hangup with the menu and they need me to discuss other options for one of the choices. Do you mind if I leave early?”
“That’s fine. Okay, we’re pretty quiet on cases at the moment, so does anybody have anything that they might want to open up?”
“I’d like to look into the Woodlings more,” I said. We’d had several cases where we’d dealt with the Ent-like denizens of the Mystic Wood, but when it came down to it, we really knew very little about them. And given they served the Fae folk, and I was bound in service to one of them—I owed one of the Fae a big favor—I wanted to start studying up on what I might expect.
“That’s good, I like that.” Tad noted my suggestion down. “Caitlin, anything come up for you?”
She flipped through her notes. “Not really. I think following up on the Woodlings sounds interesting. Ever since we encountered them, I’ve been intrigued by them. So I’ll second that idea.”
