“Thank you, that would be nice.”
“Alcohol or coffee?” Victor asked, moving around the counter toward the kitchen half of the room. When Tiny hesitated, he added, “You’re off duty now. Alcohol is all right.”
“Alcohol it is then,” Tiny murmured, thinking a beer would hit the spot.
“I’ll get us a couple beers,” DJ offered, reading his mind.
As the other man got to his feet, Victor nodded. “Grab me one too, please. I’ll get glasses.”
DJ opened a door off the kitchen and headed downstairs to where the beer was apparently kept, and Victor busied himself in the kitchen, leaving Tiny alone with the man they’d introduced as Harper.
“You’re Mirabeau’s life mate,” the other man said quietly.
Tiny nodded slowly. “It would seem so.”
“Congratulations,” Harper said quietly. Then he asked, “How’s your health?”
“Good,” Tiny answered, a little bewildered by the question.
“Your heart?” he asked.
Tiny felt his eyebrows rise, but said, “Strong as a bull according to my doctor after my stress test last month.”
Harper’s lips twisted into a bittersweet smile. “Then don’t let your fears of the future hold you back. Being a life mate is a rare and wondrous thing. Grab on to it, and don’t let go. You won’t regret it.”
He then stood and left the room with a nod, leaving Tiny staring after him with bewilderment.
“Harper lost his life mate and is having a rough time of it,” Victor murmured, coming back into the dining area. “He’s right though. Don’t let fear prevent you from accepting the happiness you and Mirabeau could have.”
“I won’t,” Tiny murmured, and knew it was true. While he did have concerns about what it would mean in regard to his family, he just couldn’t resist the pull of his attraction for Mirabeau. Accepting the empty glass Victor held out, he murmured a polite, “Thanks,” and thought that, while he preferred beer straight from the bottle, he’d drink from the glass to be polite.
“Actually, I prefer the bottle too,” Victor said wryly, obviously having read his mind again.
Tiny smiled faintly, but once again thought it might be nice to be immortal and be able to guard his thoughts from others.
“I was trying to be a good host, but”—Victor took back the glass he’d just given Tiny, and said wryly—“this way there are no glasses to clean up.” He swung away to return the glasses, adding, “The phone’s there on the counter. The handset is cordless, so if you want privacy, take it out on the deck.”
“Thanks,” Tiny said again, and moved to collect the phone.
“It looks like you have two Marguerites,” Mirabeau murmured, as Mabel and Elvi moved away to examine the various shampoos and conditioners they had between them, trying to decide which one would be best for Mirabeau’s “stressed” hair now that the extensions were out. They were a delightful pair—amusing, caring, and loving, and had both been fussing over Stephanie as they’d worked, asking her questions and drawing her into the conversation.
The girl rolled her eyes at Mirabeau’s words, but she suspected it was for show. She sensed that the girl was secretly pleased.
“Here we are. We’ve decided this one is the best bet,” Elvi announced, holding out a matching set of bottles, one holding shampoo, the other conditioner. “Do you want to wash it in the shower or just at the sink?”
“The sink is fine,” Mirabeau murmured, and immediately found herself with a woman on each side, determined to help her do it at the bathroom sink. Unused to the fussing herself, she was relieved when the chore was done and she could dry her hair and use some gel to return it to its usual spiky state.
“My,” Mabel murmured, as Mirabeau finished and presented herself for inspection. “That style is really quite attractive on you, dear. The fuchsia tips are really quite striking. I like it.”
“Yes, it’s quite nice,” Elvi agreed. And
“Alcohol or coffee?” Victor asked, moving around the counter toward the kitchen half of the room. When Tiny hesitated, he added, “You’re off duty now. Alcohol is all right.”
“Alcohol it is then,” Tiny murmured, thinking a beer would hit the spot.
“I’ll get us a couple beers,” DJ offered, reading his mind.
As the other man got to his feet, Victor nodded. “Grab me one too, please. I’ll get glasses.”
DJ opened a door off the kitchen and headed downstairs to where the beer was apparently kept, and Victor busied himself in the kitchen, leaving Tiny alone with the man they’d introduced as Harper.
“You’re Mirabeau’s life mate,” the other man said quietly.
Tiny nodded slowly. “It would seem so.”
“Congratulations,” Harper said quietly. Then he asked, “How’s your health?”
“Good,” Tiny answered, a little bewildered by the question.
“Your heart?” he asked.
Tiny felt his eyebrows rise, but said, “Strong as a bull according to my doctor after my stress test last month.”
Harper’s lips twisted into a bittersweet smile. “Then don’t let your fears of the future hold you back. Being a life mate is a rare and wondrous thing. Grab on to it, and don’t let go. You won’t regret it.”
He then stood and left the room with a nod, leaving Tiny staring after him with bewilderment.
“Harper lost his life mate and is having a rough time of it,” Victor murmured, coming back into the dining area. “He’s right though. Don’t let fear prevent you from accepting the happiness you and Mirabeau could have.”
“I won’t,” Tiny murmured, and knew it was true. While he did have concerns about what it would mean in regard to his family, he just couldn’t resist the pull of his attraction for Mirabeau. Accepting the empty glass Victor held out, he murmured a polite, “Thanks,” and thought that, while he preferred beer straight from the bottle, he’d drink from the glass to be polite.
“Actually, I prefer the bottle too,” Victor said wryly, obviously having read his mind again.
Tiny smiled faintly, but once again thought it might be nice to be immortal and be able to guard his thoughts from others.
“I was trying to be a good host, but”—Victor took back the glass he’d just given Tiny, and said wryly—“this way there are no glasses to clean up.” He swung away to return the glasses, adding, “The phone’s there on the counter. The handset is cordless, so if you want privacy, take it out on the deck.”
“Thanks,” Tiny said again, and moved to collect the phone.
“It looks like you have two Marguerites,” Mirabeau murmured, as Mabel and Elvi moved away to examine the various shampoos and conditioners they had between them, trying to decide which one would be best for Mirabeau’s “stressed” hair now that the extensions were out. They were a delightful pair—amusing, caring, and loving, and had both been fussing over Stephanie as they’d worked, asking her questions and drawing her into the conversation.
The girl rolled her eyes at Mirabeau’s words, but she suspected it was for show. She sensed that the girl was secretly pleased.
“Here we are. We’ve decided this one is the best bet,” Elvi announced, holding out a matching set of bottles, one holding shampoo, the other conditioner. “Do you want to wash it in the shower or just at the sink?”
“The sink is fine,” Mirabeau murmured, and immediately found herself with a woman on each side, determined to help her do it at the bathroom sink. Unused to the fussing herself, she was relieved when the chore was done and she could dry her hair and use some gel to return it to its usual spiky state.
“My,” Mabel murmured, as Mirabeau finished and presented herself for inspection. “That style is really quite attractive on you, dear. The fuchsia tips are really quite striking. I like it.”
“Yes, it’s quite nice,” Elvi agreed. And
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