Cheli was waiting with Mandy in the airport when Aimée's flight came in.
They were standing in the front concourse, watching the new arrivals walk through the door from the baggage claim, and Mandy licked dry lips. "You know, I remember when you could go right up to the terminal to wait for people," Mandy said. It was an inane observation, but she was nervous. More nervous than she should have been, picking up her own daughter.
Somehow, Cheli seemed to sense that. She looked at Mandy, and gave her an encouraging smile. "I bet she'll find us here, anyway."
"I feel like I should have brought a sign," Mandy said. Which was foolish: did she expect Aimée not to recognize her? But she didn't know what to do with her hands.
"She'll find us," Cheli said. "Actually, is that her?"
"What?" Mandy asked, turning to look where Cheli had pointed. And true, there was a girl walking toward them...
Actually, it took Mandy half a second to recognize her. Aimée had always been a stylish girl, but she had some new haircut that had cost more than Mandy had ever spent on hair before, and she was wearing chic clothes that looked like they'd come straight out of a New York City shop. Mandy was caught between sheer pride at how together and glamorous her daughter looked, and embarrassment at how she'd look beside her.
Almost all of her anxiety vanished as Aimée rushed over and hugged her. Mandy hugged her back, still marveling at how such an amazing girl had sprung from her series of mistakes and mess-ups, her fumbling through and doing her inadequate best.
"It's so good to see you!" Aimée squealed. "Mom! How come I had to go to college before you grew a wild side and moved to California? No, don't answer that." She turned to Cheli, with a wide smile and an extended hand. "I'm Aimée."
"Cheli," Cheli said, clasping her hand warmly. "Mr. Roja sent me around with the car so you wouldn't have to rent one. And because he doesn't have a private driver." She gave Aimée a broad wink, which Mandy had to wonder about. It felt like there was something she was missing.
"Ooh, Mr. Roja," Aimée said. "Well, I'm ready to sit in some chairs that are actually comfortable. Lead the way."
"I hope you didn't eat anything on the plane," Cheli said, as they headed for the door. "The boss has been cooking enough for ten people."
"I don't trust plane food," Aimée said. "Yuck. Never trust plane food. I wouldn't eat that if they paid me."
"Hey," Mandy said. "I thought I raised you never to turn your nose up at what you're offered."
"If Grandpa cooked it up and put it in front of me, I'd pretend to like it like a pro," Aimée said. "But I'm not spending way-too-much-money on mediocrity."
"Nico would approve," Cheli said. "He'll probably send you off with a packed lunch for the flight back."
The three of them went out to the car, where Cheli let them take the wide, clean backseat so they could catch up on each others' lives. Mandy offered an edited account of her time in Los Cazadores, lingering on the bookstores and beaches and museums and leaving out her momentary abduction; Aimée suggested that they each buy property on one of the coasts and use each other's guest rooms as vacation homes.
Aimée was extravagantly, theatrically coy about whether or not she was seeing anybody, which Mandy took to mean that she definitely was, and wanted it to be a surprise. Fair enough. Mandy had her own surprises to spring.
The nexus of all those surprises was waiting for them at the door to the deli when they parked outside. His sleeves were rolled up to the elbows, and he was cleaning stray smudges of flour off his hands with a dishtowel.
He gave Mandy a smile meant only for her, then turned his attention to her daughter.
"Nicolas Roja," he said, offering his hand and a little bow.
Amusement sparkled in Aimée's eyes, but she took his hand and shook it firmly. "Aimée Baynett. Nice to meet you. I've heard so much about you."
"And I've heard volumes about you," Nico said. "You must be hungry after your flight. Please! Chef's table." Nico gestured grandly, and led them in.
Mandy had been in the kitchen of Nico's Deli plenty of times, but apparently someone had taken the time today to set up a table in the corner, with a red checkered tablecloth and a centerpiece of lucky bamboo and flowering jade. Two chairs had been set up at the table, and Nico nudged Mandy toward one.
"You're not joining us?" Mandy asked. The entire point of bringing Aimée out had been to introduce her to Nico.
"In a bit," Nico said, laughter in his voice. "You two want to catch up, don't you?"
"I want to catch up," Aimée said. "Thank you, Mr. Nicolas Roja."
Aimée took one of the chairs, and sank into it so gracefully that Mandy wondered if she was really going for acting and not finance. Mandy glanced at Nico, who made a little shooing gesture, and she chuckled and sat down.
Well, she thought, feeding us is one way of putting his best foot forward...
Watching Nico in his kitchen was like watching a jaguar in his environment: a dance of grace and confidence. And watching him with Cheli, in the hour-long switchover between their shifts, was one of the things that had laid Mandy's worries about Aimée to rest. Nico treated the younger shifter like a little sister, or a very close daughter. They laughed together and worked together with obvious affection and respect.
In moments, Nico came to their table with the first course: little tarts, layered with pear and caramelized onion with brown butter and a little dash of pomegranate vinegar, in pastry cups so flaky they almost-but-not-quite shattered between her fingers when she picked them up. She watched Aimée bite into one, and her daughter made a wordless noise of pleasure.
"Okay," she said, when she'd swallowed. "I see immediately why it took you zero point zero seconds to decide to move here."
"It was a bit longer than that," Mandy protested.
Aimée shook her head, taking another tartlet from the plate. She scarfed it down, eyes scrunching closed in enjoyment.
"So what are you going to do, here?" she asked. "Life of glamour?"
"Me? No. I'm not glamorous." Mandy laughed. "I think after all this time, being a housewife may actually appeal to me. Even if I'm not married."
"Mom!" Aimée laughed, too. "Live life! You've been taking care of a house for forever."
"Yes, but that was all hard work," Mandy said. "Cleaning up after your wild parties and all that."
"Oh come on, I cleaned up!" Aimée protested. "And my parties were never that wild! You could have been Chelsea Seabeach's mom, think about that."
Mandy laughed again. "Honey, if you had been Chelsea Seabeach, I would have disowned you a long time ago. A woman can only do so much."
"She's studying medicine now," Aimée remarked. "Wants to go into geriatric medicine."
Mandy blinked. "That girl wants to surround herself with old people?"
"I knooow," Aimée said. "I was sure she was going to go for sports medicine or something. Get all the hot injured football players." Aimée licked pastry flakes off her fingers, just in time for another plate to materialize in front of them and for the old one to be swept away.
These were little salad cups, served in what looked like the candied rinds of some very small citrus: paper-thin, brilliantly golden, with no pith, looking as though they'd been glazed in ice. Inside were shreds of some green plant Mandy couldn't identify, with a few white curls and pomegranate seeds sprinkled on top.
"I haven't seen these before," Mandy mentioned. She picked one up and popped it into her mouth, expecting it to be candy-sweet. Instead, it was just sweet enough to offset pleasant, rich bitterness, and a surprising soft burn. Fresh horseradish?
Maybe, maybe not. The more time she spent with Nico, the more she thought that training her palette would be the work of a lifetime. Of course, Nico was more than willing to devote his lifetime to it. He seemed to enjoy feeding her.
He seemed to enjoy everything about her. And she definitely enjoyed everything about him.
The thought brought a blush to her cheeks, and she took a drink of water to hide it.
"Whatever they are, they're weird," Aimée said. "Really good! But weird."
"I think you just described this city," Mandy said. "How did you ever hear about this place?"
"A little bird told me," Aimée said, and winked. "No, really, it's just that a bunch of people at work like traveling. So I was asking for recommendations, and one guy said this place was great."
"You'll have to thank him for me," Mandy said.
Over the next few courses they covered Aimée's classes, the new friends she was making, her work at the internship, and even her favorite places to hang out on campus and the vagaries of New England weather. Mandy was wondering how much Nico had prepared for the evening – she wasn't sure she could fit much more in her stomach – when he appeared at the side of the table and stood there, commanding attention just by his silence and poise. Mandy and Aimée both looked up.
"Esterházy Torte, in my own special style," he pronounced, setting plates in front of each of them with a flourish. "Layers of chocolate meringue, spaced with vanilla-cognac buttercream, with just enough salted caramel drizzle on the top, and one special, secret ingredient. Enjoy!"
And then he lingered, watching them both with a hunter's fervent interest.
Mandy watched him, suddenly suspicious. Nico's expression betrayed nothing, but there was a certain... cattishness, she decided, and then regretted the pun. Still, it seemed like he was up to something.
Aimée, though, had no hesitation. She tasted the torte, and her face dissolved into joy.
"Mom," she said, leaning across the table. Her voice was full of joking urgency. "Marry him."
"Be careful," Mandy said, smiling. "I may just do that."
"Good. I want this cake for my birthday and my graduation and my wedding and your wedding. When is your wedding? My boss is so sweet, he'd totally give me the time off..."
"Whoa, whoa," Mandy said. "Slow down, kiddo. Don't start picking out curtains for us yet."
"Right," Aimée said, just as Cheli arrived at the side of their table and stood just behind Nico. "You need to try this torte before you decide to marry him."
"Before I decide if I..." Mandy began. But Aimée was making urgent little gestures at Mandy's plate, and Mandy just laughed and slid her fork down into the torte.
And before it hit the plate, it hit something else with a clink.
She looked up at Nico again. Now excitement was glimmering in his eyes.
Carefully, Mandy used her small fork to dig in the torte until she unearthed a ring.
It was a small, understated ring, but beautiful in its simplicity. A polished gold band, which on closer inspection seemed almost to have been braided together from innumerable fine threads. No stone was set into its surface, but when Mandy brushed buttercream from the surface, she was entranced by the subtle pattern.
But not for too long. She looked up to Nico, then across to Aimée, taking in both their expressions. Nico's innocent expression was very good. Aimée's, though, was too familiar to be convincing.
Mandy broke into laughter. "Aimée Rosalind Baynett. How do you know Nico?" she demanded.
Aimée gave a huge grin. "I messaged him on Facebook," she said. "Like, two days after you called me and had that big talk."
Mandy looked between Aimée and Nico again, only halfway believing. "You've been talking to my daughter that long?"
"I made him play Hearthstone with me," Aimée said. "He sucks at it."
Nico shrugged. "She found me," he said. "And besides. I knew I could never ask without her blessing. Speaking of which..."
He went to one knee, gathering her hands in his.
"Mandy."
Mandy swallowed. Her eyes were prickling with tears already, despite the laughter in her chest.
"Will you marry me?"
Even knowing that Aimée must have set this up, she looked to her daughter across the table. Aimée bounced in her seat, giving Mandy a double thumbs-up and mouthing "Do it!"
Mandy turned back to Nico, meeting his earnest, adoring gaze. She thought she could fall into his eyes, deeper and deeper until she was caught by the strange emerald flash she saw sometimes. "Yes," she said.
It felt like her heart took flight.
And an instant later she nearly took flight, as Nico surged up and caught her in an embrace that lifted her straight up from the chair. Aimée whooped as he kissed her, and behind him, Cheli popped the cork on a champagne bottle Mandy hadn't seen her carrying. A fine mist of alcohol drizzled around them.
This is real, Mandy thought. I can't believe it. It's really, really real.
Aimée rushed around to her side of the table, snapping pictures on her cell phone. "I'm going to be your maid of honor," she pronounced. "Or, no. Can I give you away?"
"You can be my maid of honor," Mandy said, and reached out an arm to catch Aimée in a headlock. Aimée ducked it expertly, as she had since she was fifteen years old, and laughed. "You little troublemaker. This is all your fault, you know!"
"I will gladly take the blame for introducing you to this cake," Aimée said. "And this guy. Mr. Nico, I think this is the beginning of a beautiful stepdadship."
–
Night came over Los Cazadores like a gentle mist, softening the hot day and the warm evening. While Aimée was staying in the studio above the deli, with all the deli staffers instructed to give her whatever food she wanted, Mandy had elected to stay with Nico.
Her mate. Her fiancé.
She had Aimée's blessing, her lease on her just-good-enough apartment back home was winding down, and Nico had paid off her unfortunate creditors with, as it turned out, a mere fraction of his savings. Los Cazadores seemed to have worked its magic, and was smoothing her way into her new life at every opportunity. All that was left was packing her boxes.
Nico held the door for her when they arrived, ushering her through the herb-scented evening air into the cozy house. Mandy was still floaty, giddy, as though she'd drunk far more champagne than she actually had.
As soon as they were inside, Nico took her face in both of his hands, gazing deeply into her eyes. She could see the raw power in him: the strength of a predator, the caution of a great stalking cat, and an absolute devotion that she suspected was purely shapeshifter, or purely him.
"Today," he said, "you've made me happier than I could have ever imagined. What can I do to make you happy, Amanda?"
Mandy shivered. She usually didn't like her full first name, but the first time Nico had said it, his tongue had curled around each syllable as if he were tasting ambrosia. She hadn't told him, but he seemed to understand, anyway: hearing her name that way was a rare treat.
"You already make me happy," she said. "Every day." Every meal, every look he gave her, every touch.
Nico's thumb traced her cheek, and his voice lowered to a purr. "Isn't there anything?"
Mandy's heart sped up.
She leaned forward to kiss him, without any fear or anxiety. His lips met hers, warm and strong, soft and articulate.
"There is something," she whispered, and her hands found his belt.
His hand traced down around her jaw to the back of her neck and closed there, holding her firm as he drew her in. He tasted her lips again, then kissed her forehead, her cheek, the soft sensitive skin over the pulse in her neck.
No need to ask about protection now, or to worry about her own dubious self-control where Nico was concerned. He'd gone with her to get the copper IUD; held her hand through the discomfort, and lavished more care on her than she'd technically needed during the days while her body adjusted to it. Strangely, just being around Nico seemed to make the cramps ease, and the soreness subside.
Now, any discomfort was a distant memory, blotted out by the heat coiling in her belly. Unconsciously, her fingers slipped under her own shirt, feeling the smooth skin below her scar.
Nico's fingers found hers, curling around them.
"I'll be ready when you are," he breathed into her ear. "Whenever that is."
She yielded the skin beneath her shirt to Nico's hands, and he eased the cloth up and over her head. She shivered as the cool air hit her skin, and pressed herself forward.
Every day that passed made her more certain that she wanted a chance to have a child with Nico, before her chances ran out. But for tonight, this week, this month, there was no hurry. She could make the decision when she was ready. And for now, she'd have Nico all to herself.
And she'd have all of Nico. Because he was willing to give her all of himself.
He let her back him toward the couch. His hands came around to cradle her breasts, thumbs favoring her nipples through the fabric of her bra. Far from being muted by the fabric, the touch sparked through her body, down to the deep, wet core of her.
She claimed his mouth again; let him claim hers, hungry and demanding. Here was a taste she'd rather have than any dish he could dream up: the taste of his desire. He kissed her like she was nectar and ambrosia.
She whipped his belt to the floor and pushed him backwards, onto the couch. He pulled her down with him, raising his hips so she could get his pants off, grinding against her with his proud, straining cock. She straddled him, her heart seeming to move down between her legs and pound there.
In an instant, he had her bra off and tossed aside. He reared up from the couch just as she got his boxers down, his mouth closing on one nipple. The sensation made Mandy gasp and shudder: the molten heat of his mouth, the close tight wetness, the rough and eager skin of his tongue as he flicked it over the hard, sensitive nub. He suckled and let up, now grazing with his teeth, now ghosting a hot breath over the slickness as it caught the air, now teasing her with the barest nip of his teeth. Mandy writhed, barely able to hold the sensations in.
She realized that Nico was suddenly in control. He growled, feline and playful, and gripped her hips with surprising strength. He thrust up against her, the pressure of his cock knocking against her entrance even through her jeans and panties.
She reached down to get them off, but Nico caught her hands and drew them to his shoulders, letting her brace herself there as he returned his lips to hers. Then one hand was on the back of her neck, holding her firm, and his teeth nipped at the curve where her neck sank to her shoulders. With the other hand he undressed her, shucking the last clothes from her body.
She strained for him and he thrust up to meet her, the hot head of his cock seeking her entrance. She reached down to guide him in but found herself seated right even before her fingers touched him, and she forced herself down on his hardness before giving herself time to think.
She let out a cry as he impaled her, filling her up deeper than she'd known she could take. She could feel his heat burning to the very center of her, where both their hearts kept time inside her body.
Nico growled again, throwing his head back and thrusting up. "Mandy..."
Mandy rose up, every nerve in her keening at the loss of closeness, and brought herself back down again. One of Nico's hands found the small of her back, pressing her down harder; the other found her breast again, adding another thread of fire to the sensations rocketing through her. She rose up and slammed down again, needing more.
Then, suddenly, quick as a cat pouncing, he flipped her over, crowding her against the back of the couch. Now he was on her, in her, over her, the whole world consisting of her body and the slick couch leather and his heat and weight, the animal musk of him, the strength of him, as he responded to her need. His knees spreads hers wide and he worked within her, his mouth on her mouth, on her jaw, on her neck, his hands holding her steady as he thrust and thrust and thrust.
The pressure was unbearable. Mandy could feel the orgasm rising up in her body, coiled and volcanic, and one last hot nip at her throat tipped her over the edge. She surrendered to him utterly, and let her body bring both of them to a howling climax. Her pussy clenched down around him in waves, or maybe the waves were him spending himself inside of her, or maybe the waves were the whole world, this whole city shuddering with them like the shore shuddered with the ocean, whole and grand and complete.
Mandy wrapped her arms around Nico, drawing him down. He was breathing hard, but he cuddled down against her body, nuzzling against her cheek.
"I love you," he said. "My mate. My most perfect mate."
"I love you, too," she whispered back... and let herself rest in the safety of that, the very truth of it.
In that moment, it was hard to remember how it had felt like she'd lived her entire life out, before ever coming here. How she'd felt like she was at the end of a road and would never find another, before meeting Nico.
She was no eager college freshman, like Aimée was; she was no naive high schooler, like she had been. She had an adult child. She'd made enough mistakes to sink a lesser person.
But all of that was simply a part of her, like her scar, like her love for her mate and her daughter. Nico had shown her that it was a richness, not a weight to drag her down. And she hadn't lived an entire life. Or if she had, it didn't mean there was nothing left.
Here in Los Cazadores, her life was just beginning.