Happy?

Franka

 

“Not that one, the one you had on before,” Josette declared.

It was late the next afternoon and Jo and I were lounging atop Noc’s bed, Valentine standing at its side behind us, as Circe stood in the doorway of Noc’s bathroom having just shown us the third outfit she’d brought to wear for our dinner with Dax.

“I prefer the first, that little dress you showed us is very flattering,” I stated.

“I’d prefer not to be here,” Valentine murmured from behind us.

I rolled partially to my back and aimed a glower at her.

She visibly sighed and crossed her arms on her chest.

“Isn’t the dress too revealing?” Circe asked, and I looked back to her.

“Precisely,” I answered, and it was, though only legs, arms, shoulders, a hint of cleavage and nearly all of her back.

“It’s a dinner at Noc’s house, don’t you think it should be more casual?” Jo asked me. “This one seems, for this world, businessy.” She flung an arm out at Circe who was now wearing a slim skirt, a satin blouse and a rather becoming pair of what was known in this world as “pumps.” “The jeans and cute little blouse say confident and at home,” she went on.

“The jeans have rips in them,” I pointed out.

“It’s the fashion here, Frannie,” Jo returned. “You’ve seen it, surely.”

“I have and it’s beyond me,” I replied and carried on, “Why would anyone wear anything that was torn? It makes no sense. Furthermore, those jeans don’t go all the way to her ankles and they’re ill-fitting.”

“They’re skinny jeans and they’re cropped. That’s the way they’re supposed to be too,” Josette rejoined.

“And both, as well, are beyond me,” I asserted.

“Yes, well, Circe has a fine arse and those jeans do wonders for it,” Jo shot back. “Now, you also have a fine arse. So I suggest you put them on and saunter out to see how Noc reacts when he sees you in them. Then you can say it’s beyond you.”

She had a point. Circe’s bum looked spectacular in those jeans.

And although my legs, neck, mouth and hair were my best features (this I didn’t think because of conceit, but rather because Noc told me), I also had been made aware that I had a rather alluring backside (this Noc had demonstrated to me).

Perhaps the jeans weren’t a bad idea.

“That blouse,” Valentine stated. “With the jeans and those pumps. Undo at least one more button on the blouse, or if you feel you can carry it off, two. The thin gold necklace that comes to the point at your breastbone and dangles in chains that you were wearing when you arrived. The hoop earrings you wore with the first outfit. And for the love of the goddess, wear your hair down. You’ve an extraordinary face, neck and collarbone, but that hair should not be hidden. Not tonight.”

“By Hermia, that would be perfect, casual but still dressy as well as unique,” Jo breathed with keen approval.

I turned my gaze from Valentine to Circe, envisioning this ensemble in my head and thinking that Valentine was onto something.

Circe caught my eyes.

“I approve,” I declared.

Josette sat up in the bed, bounced on her bum and clapped, crying, “It’s unanimous!”

A sudden, alarming expression stole over Circe’s face.

I tensed.

She muttered, “I may be sick,” and dashed into the bathroom.

I looked only briefly to Josette then to Valentine before I pushed up from the bed and dashed after her.

I closed the door behind me as I entered to see she was standing before the toilet deep breathing.

I did not get close but I did not stop far.

“My dear,” I said softly.

She looked to me.

“I don’t know…” she shook her head. “I don’t know…” she repeated, drew in a breath then forged on, “It’s silly, ridiculous even. I saw him. I saw his face. The look in his eyes when he gazed at me. I saw. And I don’t understand.” She threw out her hands at her side helplessly. “Why am I so nervous?”

“Because you’ve been taught not to want anything at the same time being taught that every second of your life can only bring you to new levels of pain, so you’ve been taught not to hope,” I answered. “Now, there’s hope. More than hope, a promise. And it frightens you.”

“Yes, that’s it,” she murmured, looking to the toilet.

“Step away from there,” I ordered gently.

I watched her struggle to calm herself as she did as she was told and came closer to me.

I reached out and took both of her hands.

“I understand this feeling,” I shared. “Perhaps not precisely as you’re feeling it, but I can assure you, when the threat that was always looming from my parents was swept away, I could not find it in myself to comprehend how to live a life without that threat darkening every moment.”

Her fingers squeezed mine as she whispered, “I’m sorry for that for you, but I’m also glad to hear of it for that’s exactly how I feel.”

“Baldur is dead,” I reminded her, both necessarily and unnecessarily.

“I know this,” she replied.

“You have powerful allies, not only in this world, but in our old one.”

“I know this too.”

“I know you do,” I said. “And I know such abundance is hard to come to terms with when your life was so void of it before.” I tightened my hold on her and gave her a small smile. “I also know that you will come to terms with it. Alas, you need to go through these feelings you’re going through. But eventually it will either sink in or something extraordinary will happen to make you understand it to the depths of your soul.”

She tipped her head to the side. “Was it Noc that helped you understand that?”

I nodded. “Noc, indeed, most definitely. But also others. My brother. Valentine. Frey. But Noc was the catalyst for all that. He was dogged in making certain I saw myself for who I was, not who I was forced to be. And his efforts made me open to what the others were offering me. All of which showed me the me I was meant to be. And he was all that even before we became what we’ve become. He was that just simply being my friend.”

“He was in love with you from the beginning, you know.”

At this unexpected statement in the course of our discussion, I blinked as my body gave a start.

“He shared this with you?” I asked.

This time, she nodded, and it was then I noted that our time in that bathroom was no longer about me reassuring her. She was studying me closely, her mind intent on something that was not the arrival in two hours of Dax Lahn.

“He says when all that happened to you happened, he just happened to be the one who was there for you, and since he was in love with you, or on the path to just that, he was lucky that what grew of that was what you both have now.”

Although this delighted me, and troubled me, I dropped her hands and moved slightly away.

“With what you have with Noc, should you be sharing this with me?” I queried.

She shrugged one shoulder, her gaze still fixed on me. “Perhaps not, strictly speaking, as I’m his friend. But when I’ve not been making myself sick with nerves considering all that could go wrong tonight, I was thinking about his words, perplexed by them enough to find them disquieting. And they were disquieting enough I feel the need to share them.”

I understood her disquiet.

However, I did not feel comfortable discussing them with her.

Circe did not have the same discomfort.

“I shared that I understood very much what you might be feeling in finding a man like him in your life. He not only disputed it, he refused to discuss it.”

That was not troubling.

That was distressing.

“Are you aware he has these feelings?” she asked, and the tone of her voice made my attention sharpen on her.

Circe may have lived through much but she’d been sequestered, indeed actually imprisoned through most of it. She hadn’t lived in my world where, to survive, one had to become adept at interpreting every look, mannerism and intonation.

Thus she didn’t know she was not hiding from me that this conversation was not about Noc.

It was about understanding in her heart that I would see to Noc.

Thus I proceeded cautiously.

“I hope you understand that, with a man like Noc, not to mention your and my own relationship being new, that I’m feeling some discomfort discussing something with you I wouldn’t even discuss with Josette.”

Her look turned guarded when she replied, “Of course.”

“He’s mine,” I stated.

I saw her frame tighten.

I carried on.

“I’ll see to him.”

And I would.

And it would seem I needed to cease dillydallying and do just that.

She continued regarding me closely before her mouth softened and her eyes warmed.

“I’m glad.”

“Now,” I said crisply, making it clear we were finished with that subject, “are you to change now or wait for closer to when Dax arrives?”

“Now,” she answered. “If I wear this blouse, I need to redo my makeup because I’ve done it in bronzes and it needs to be pinks. That’ll take time.”

The blouse was a lovely shade of blush.

In other words, she was quite correct in that.

I began to move away, murmuring, “I’ll leave you to it.”

“Franka,” she called when I’d nearly made the door.

I turned back to her.

“I’m happy you’re happy,” she said. “And I’m happy you’re making him happy.”

I dipped my chin. “Allow me to return those sentiments with you and Dax.”

Her lips curved in a hopeful smile.

It wasn’t radiant, but as with any time hope made an appearance, it still had a magnificent gleam.

I returned it and walked out of the room, closing the door behind me.

“Am I released from my enforced role as fashion critic?” Valentine asked the moment the door clicked.

“Indeed,” I answered.

She didn’t hesitate to stroll out of the room.

I watched her contemplatively as she did this, wondering if there was aught to be done about her heartbreak.

After she’d disappeared from sight, Josette began speaking.

“Back home, when one of the other maids had her heart broken, the girls would request free evenings. We’d then take her to the local pub, pour ale into her and help her find someone to bed her in order to erase some of the pain and remind her that her prospects were not limited to just the one who foolishly didn’t take care of the gift he’d been given,” she noted.

And in her noting this, I noted Jo was far more perceptive than I imagined (and I knew she was perceptive), for I had not breathed a word about Valentine’s predicament.

“I do believe that Valentine is not just one of the girls,” I replied.

“Too bad,” Jo muttered, looked to her watch and shot off the bed. “Glover’s to be here to pick me up in five minutes! I need to go check my hair!”

And with that, she darted out of the room.

Although happily available to give fashion advice, Josette had long since had plans with her Glover. They were going to a park and having a picnic, Josette’s request for their Sunday afternoon and evening. And Glover, who did not strike me as a picnic sort of man, had acquiesced.

Noc was not a picnic sort of man either but I knew he’d not delay even a second to give me that should it be my desire.

These were my thoughts as I walked into the kitchen to see Noc sliding the steaks we were to consume into some kind of container filled with some sauce that looked revolting but was making the kitchen smell divine.

“Shit,” he said as I appeared, and I focused on him to see him focused on me. “Not good you’re coming from Circe and you got that look on your face.”

“Circe will be attired charmingly and is quite all right,” I informed him.

His mouth quirked before he asked, “So what’s with that look on your face?”

“It has occurred to me I might be forced to actually like this Glover man for Josette.”

Noc burst out laughing.

I slid on one of the stools, enjoying watching him doing this at the same time deciding that it was most assuredly a day where an early glass of wine was in order.

I then watched him put a lid on the steaks, still chuckling, and continued watching as he turned to the refrigerator.

His manner was relaxed.

His expression was not content, not with that smile.

He was happy.

But as I watched, and did it closely, after having the conversation with Circe that I’d had, I noticed something for the first time. Something that my dearest love had so deeply hidden, the glimpses he’d given me of it had not penetrated my conscious. Something that made my stomach twist so violently, it was a struggle not to jump from my seat and rush to the bathroom.

Because what I saw was that it was not I who was convinced I had a midnight soul.

It was my love who was drowning in the darkness of what he thought was his.

 

* * * * *

 

I was impatient.

And angry.

What on earth was the man doing?

I didn’t care.

I’d had enough.

“Noc, my dearest, I’m worried about the potatoes,” I declared.

I sat with Circe at Noc’s attractive outdoor table that was made of iron and had striped pads. A Circe who had long, slender fingers to the stem of her wineglass, twisting it this way and that. A Circe who was sitting with me—alone with me—while the men stood by Noc’s gleaming steel grilling apparatus on the other side of what Noc called his “deck.”

Dax had been there precisely twenty minutes.

I’d counted.

And he’d said precisely twenty-nine words to Circe.

I’d counted those too.

The rest of the time, he drank from the bottle of ale Noc had given him and chatted.

With Noc.

I stood as Noc turned his gaze to me.

“The potatoes?” he asked.

“Indeed,” I snapped, glaring at him, then at Dax.

I rearranged my expression to give a reassuring look to a visibly stricken (from fear at my leaving as well as taking Noc with me) and anxious Circe (making me consider magical castration or at the very least impotence if Dax didn’t pull his bloody finger out). Then, trying not to stomp (and failing in this endeavor), I moved into the house.

I did not go to the potatoes, which I was sure were roasting splendidly in the oven where Noc had placed them.

I went to the living room, whirled, put my hands to my hips and tapped my toe, watching Noc approach me slowly.

Noc got close and asked, “You okay?”

“No, I am not,” I stated the obvious.

“What’s the matter?” he asked.

What was the matter?

Was he blind?

“That’s the matter,” I bit out, lifting an arm and pointing a finger toward the back of his house. “Dax has barely spoken to Circe. And, I don’t believe I have to impart this information on you, but I shall do it regardless, he’s not here to fall in love with you.”

Noc got closer and dipped his voice lower. “Babe, he’s playing it cool.”

I felt my eyebrows shoot up. “It’s hardly time to do that!”

He got even closer, putting a hand to my waist, ordering sternly, “Calm down and keep your voice down.”

“You’re a very good cook, but I’ll also share that he’s not here to partake of your talents in the kitchen.” My voice rose again. “Circe is freaking!”

He did one of his eyebrows-raising-slow-blinks and asked, “Freaking?”

“Yes. Freaking. She’s being quiet about it but I can feel her unease.”

“Freaking,” he said again, his lips twitching.

Was I seeing what I was seeing?

My brows snapped together. “Did I miss something amusing?”

His lips were still twitching when he lied, “No.”

I couldn’t be dealing with Noc’s inappropriate humor.

I had bigger things to deal with.

“Speak with him,” I demanded.

He slid his hand from my waist to the small of my back and got even closer, taking my hand in his other and lifting both to set them on his chest.

“Okay, you were there the other night and that night, Circe really freaked.”

“Yes, indeed, I was there so you don’t have to remind me of this occurrence,” I agreed.

“You think his best play is to get here and come on strong?”

I’d not heard the terminology “come on strong.”

Still, it was not lost on me.

Neither was his point.

I pressed my lips together.

“He’s giving her some space,” Noc told me.

“He needs to stop doing that,” I told him.

“He will, when the time is right,” he said.

“That time was fifteen minutes ago,” I retorted.

“Just let them play it out,” he advised.

“Noc, my darling, if he thinks she’s going to approach, he’ll be waiting until the world stops turning.”

He bent his neck so his face was close to mine.

“He’s not waiting for her to approach, sweetheart, he was waiting for us to check on the potatoes.”

I stared at him.

“You think he’s not in her space right now, or as in it is he can get without flipping her out?” Noc asked.

I leaned a bit to the side to look down Noc’s long house toward the back door. I could see nothing from there. I could hear nothing.

I looked back to Noc. “Let’s go to the window in your bedroom and peer through to check on them.”

More twitching of his lips before he denied, “We’re not gonna spy on them.”

It was then, something else occurred to me.

“You’ve put the meat on the fire. What if what they have to do takes too long and the steaks burn?”

“Babe, do you give a shit you eat a burned steak tonight?”

Of course I did. Steak was delicious, I liked my food and I particularly liked a medium rare steak.

Burned would be abysmal.

Of course, I would eat a burned steak should Dax be seeing to things.

I just wouldn’t like it.

I made a decision.

“You may not wish to spy on them but I’m going to,” I declared, pulled from his hold and moved around him.

“Frannie,” he called.

I kept walking, careful to keep my eyes on the back door should one of them appear in it and see me.

This didn’t happen so I was able to duck into Noc’s room.

I quickly made my way to the windows, and just as quickly—and expertly—situated myself in a location where I could see but it would be difficult to see me.

I lifted my hand and parted the slats on Noc’s blinds.

I peered out.

Noc was correct. Dax was no longer standing by Noc’s grilling apparatus. He’d gone to the table where Circe was sitting.

He’d not only gone to it, he’d pulled a chair around the table so that it was near hers, and sat in it.

And he was not only sitting in it, he was turned at the waist, his intent to share she had his entire attention, as she continued to fidget with her wineglass shyly but appeared to be doing this while speaking to Dax.

This being a Dax who was very much all ears, appearing like every word she spoke was a Sjofn ice diamond dropping from her mouth.

My.

I felt Noc come up behind me, seeing out of the corner of my eye as he opened his own slats to peer out.

He did this grouching irritably, “I can’t believe I’m doin’ this shit.”

I ignored that and whispered, like we were out on the deck and not separated by distance and the outer wall of a house, “He’s made his approach.”

“Told you,” Noc did not whisper back.

“He appears enamored,” I noted.

“Are you surprised?” Noc asked.

“No,” I answered. “Just pleased he’s no longer ‘playing it cool’ and is now showing his interest.”

Circe stopped speaking, Dax’s lips moved as he said something, and we watched as Circe’s body gave a surprised start before her head bowed back in a graceful way and we heard the dulcet tones of her humor drift through the windowpane.

Excellent.

Dax grinned at her as she did this and his grin did not waver, nor did he hide the intensity of his pleasure when she ceased laughing but did so turning more fully to him, adding leaning toward him in her chair.

Dax reciprocated this gesture by leaning toward her.

At this, she seemed to brace but visibly forced herself to relax as they continued conversing.

“The steaks are totally gonna burn,” Noc muttered.

“We’ll leave them be and go buy more,” I suggested.

Dax said something amusing again, for Circe laughed again, this time doing it reaching out a hand to touch his forearm that was resting on the arm of his chair.

He did not grin as he watched her laugh.

He looked down at her hand on him and immediately twisted his arm so he could lace his fingers in hers.

In return, Circe instantly stopped laughing.

I held my breath.

“Fuck, bold move and too soon,” Noc remarked tersely.

I let my breath loose on a chant, “Don’t let her go. Don’t let her go. Don’t let her go.”

Circe stiffened, moving her torso away a bit.

Dax did not let her hand go and leaned in deeper, pursuing her, even seated.

She dipped her chin, turning her head and further hiding her face with a fall of hair.

Dax was speaking to her as she did this and continued to do so as she kept her face averted.

He did this for some time.

Noc and I remained silent and watchful for that time.

And then I drew in a sharp breath as Dax lifted his hand, touched gentle fingers to Circe’s jaw, and forced her to face him.

“Fuck,” Noc growled.

Dax kept speaking.

I held tense.

After moments that felt like eternities passed, she nodded, a warm, relieved look washed over Dax’s face and he dropped his fingers from her jaw but continued to hold her hand and his place in her space.

“Now we really gotta check on the potatoes,” Noc muttered.

I took my hand from the slats and turned to him.

He was so close I felt my arm brush his chest as I did so. Also as I did so, he took his hand from the slats and looked down at me.

I gazed up at him, all of a sudden stunned.

He was so beautiful. Sheer perfection in every way.

It wasn’t the first time I’d noted that, but now that I’d sensed his pain, I couldn’t help but feel the silenced throb of it beating under the surface.

This made me sway into him at the same time wrapping my arms around his waist.

Noc returned the gesture.

“A few more minutes and I’ll go out and intervene. Give her some respite so she can catch her breath,” I told him.

“Think that’s a good plan.”

I nodded and rolled up to my toes to touch my mouth to his.

When our lips parted, I didn’t roll completely back.

I held his gaze and shared the love I had for him in mine.

“Thank you for your patience with this,” I whispered.

“Baby, do anything for you, but helping you guide Circe to happy is not a hardship.”

I pulled an arm from him, lifted my hand and cupped his cheek, running my thumb along the edge of his bottom lip.

“Yes, I know that, it’s very you. But thank you all the same.”

He didn’t respond. He just shook his head as if to negate the compliment I’d paid, dipped it and brushed his lips against mine.

“I need to check the potatoes,” he said when he’d lifted away. “And you need to give our girl a breather.”

I nodded.

Noc’s arms gave me a squeeze.

I squeezed him back.

He drew his arms from around me but took my hand and held it, even though we were simply walking to his kitchen.

I waited inside it, watching Noc do something peculiar, this being poking the potatoes with a fork.

I didn’t ask after this partly because I didn’t care, but mostly because I had other things on my mind.

These other things being that I felt I’d given it enough time.

So I went out to see to “our girl.”

 

* * * * *

 

“Frannie, get away from the window,” Noc ordered.

“They can’t see me,” I retorted.

“Don’t you think you’ve spied on them enough?” he asked.

I looked from the window, having been watching Dax and Circe as they stood on Noc’s front porch, to Noc.

“No.”

“He might kiss her,” Noc said, leaning against the brick at the side the mantle of his fireplace, his expression cross, his eyes on me.

“Good,” I replied, turned back to the window and peered through the blinds. “I don’t want to miss that.”

I was barely able to swallow my surprised cry when, seconds later, my hand was seized and I was yanked bodily from the window.

I was then twirled, pinned with legs to the arm of the couch and finding myself falling, ending with my back to the couch and Noc on me.

“Leave them alone,” he demanded.

I caught my breath and decided not to be annoyed by Noc’s machinations (or titillated by them) and further annoyed at perhaps missing Circe and Dax’s first kiss.

Instead I decided it’d be just the thing to dissect the entire evening.

“Once Dax broke the ice on your deck, they barely looked at either of us all evening.”

Noc stopped looking severe and started grinning. “I know, gorgeous. I was there.”

“And when we were in the kitchen refreshing drinks and they were hidden behind your fireplace and they’d been standing so very close and had to separate when we arrived, Dax was so infuriated we broke their moment, I thought he was going to aim a punch at you.”

Noc kept grinning. “Yeah, Frannie, caught that too because I was there.”

“She came well into herself,” I remarked. “She was most amusing. And then she’d be bashful in all the right ways. It was delightful how she often couldn’t meet his gaze and that becoming blush would hit her cheeks. Dax couldn’t take his eyes off her.”

“You’re determined to do the blow by blow,” he murmured in defeat, still handsomely grinning, therefore, I knew, not minding a bit.

“Of course,” I returned. “The only thing better than a successfully executed plot is, commending yourself at length on your genius at successfully executing a plot.”

Noc started chuckling, doing this rolling toward the back of the couch and adjusting us so we were both sitting up but with me tucked so closely to his side, I was nearly on his lap.

I gave a sidelong glance in the direction of the door and murmured, “I hope he’s asking to see her again.”

“He’s so totally asking to see her again.”

I refocused on Noc and smiled.

I then proclaimed, “This will mean we’ll need to take her shopping for the perfect outfit. None of this attempting to decide something from garments you already own.”

“A woman doesn’t need a new outfit for every date,” Noc decreed.

He was very wrong in that but I sensed I’d never convince him of it so I didn’t try.

“All I know is,” Noc went on, “if Circe wants something new, she’ll have to take you. I start work tomorrow so our trips to the mall have become your trips to the mall.” As an afterthought, he finished, “Which means we need to find more time to get you back behind a wheel.”

“I do believe it would be beneficial if Josette or I were able to traverse the city on our own and I do think, at first, that will need to be me,” I agreed.

“You down with that?” he asked.

“I quite like driving. Your interstates are somewhat alarming but we’ll work up to that.”

He gave me a proud smile. “Yeah, we will.”

The door opened and both of us turned to it, me having to twist exceedingly to look over my shoulder, Noc simply having to turn his head to look over my other one.

Circe was inside.

And oh.

My.

Word.

“He so totally kissed her,” Noc whispered in my ear.

He so totally did.

She seemed barely awake. Sleep walking.

And dreaming good dreams.

“Circe, babe, you good?” Noc called quietly.

For a moment, she was lost in her own world and neither Noc nor I said anything for it was clearly a good place to be.

Suddenly, she started and looked to us.

“I’m sorry, what?” she asked.

“Did he kiss you?” I asked back.

“Frannie,” Noc clipped.

“I…he was…” Circe stammered and then started beaming. “Yes.”

My word.

“I take it he’s a talent with that,” I noted.

She glanced at Noc and bit her lip.

“No offense taken, Circe,” Noc muttered to her unuttered words, sounding amused.

“This is, um, awkward,” she glanced to me and back at Noc. “You are, of course, a very good kisser.”

I took no offense either to her saying without saying that she thought Dax was a better kisser and I felt it safe to say, should a woman have comment on this about my man, it would be me who would.

“Of course,” I agreed. “And I could assure you that Dax could kiss me and I would say that same thing. But I wouldn’t be looking like you after he’d done it.”

“I’m glad you understand,” she said, obviously relieved.

“Did he ask you out?” Noc queried.

“Tomorrow night,” she told him, moving to Noc’s armchair and sitting on it, but only on its edge, like she needed to be at the ready to burst from it given any good reason.

“Not letting any grass grow,” Noc said under his breath.

But I found this concerning.

“This gives us very little time to go shopping for an outfit,” I declared then asked, “Where’s he taking you?”

“Well, he’s cooking for me at his house,” she answered.

I stiffened.

Noc made a noise like he was choking…

On laughter.

A kiss on another man’s porch.

Dinner at his home the next night.

Circe would be bedded by this time on the morrow, I was certain of it.

Therefore, plans needed to be laid as soon as possible.

“It’s imperative you take off work tomorrow, and first thing when the doors at the mall are opened, we’re entering them.”

Circe looked confused.

“I have a lot of clothes, Franka.”

She probably did.

However, at the mall we’d be seeing to that.

But our primary mission would be undergarments.

I was thinking pink. Pale pink. With a good deal of delicate lace.

“Humor me,” I ordered.

She studied me and moved her study to Noc.

He must have communicated something to her silently for her face relaxed, and when she looked again to me, she was smiling.

“All right, I’ll take the day off.”

“Excellent. And now for a digestif.” I twisted to Noc. “You’ve been cooking and hosting for hours. I’ll go get them,” I offered.

“I don’t fuckin’ think so,” he replied.

I stared at him, surprised not only at his words but at the ferocity with which he’d uttered them.

He rose but bent deep, putting his face in mine.

“I take care of my girl,” he declared, straightened and looked to Circe with a far less fierce expression. “All of them,” he finished and sauntered away.

Well, he definitely did that.

I watched him go and continued to watch him, doing this knowing I wore a supremely smug look on my face and not caring a whit.

I did this until I felt Circe’s regard.

The instant I caught her gaze, I asked, “Happy?”

Something settled on her face and it took her a moment to reply. When she did, it was so quietly, I nearly didn’t hear.

“So this is what it feels like.”

I leaned her way, fully her way, dropping to the cushions of the couch to rest my weight in my forearms.

When I did, she shifted further to the edge of the seat and leaned toward me, perched precariously there as we assumed the pose of girlfriends in this world and any other.

“You see,” I whispered, “it’s so beautiful, when it’s yours, it’s difficult to believe it’s real.”

“Yes, Franka, I see,” she whispered back.

“He was lovely to you when we left you to yourselves outside?” I asked.

“He was…” she shook her head, “He’s so large, it seems impossible to believe, but he’s so gentle, it’s startling.”

Oh yes.

I was very right.

Just like in the other, Dax Lahn of this world was absolutely perfect for his Circe.

“Please tell me he used his tongue with the kiss,” I begged.

A flush hit her cheeks but her eyes lit. “He did.” She leaned forward, nearly toppling off the edge before she gave up and I had to sit up as she situated herself close to me on the couch.

We immediately bent our heads together.

“He tastes…I don’t know, does it seem odd when I say he tastes like, well, like…man?”

How delicious.

“It most assuredly does not,” I replied.

“It’s the best thing I’ve ever tasted,” she breathed.

My eyes slid to the kitchen when I shared, “I know precisely what you mean.”

She let out a giggle before she strangled it.

I took her hand, my body shaking.

I couldn’t hold it back. Laughter burst forth.

And to my utter delight…

Circe’s followed.