by Ashlyn Chase
Erato clapped. “Oh, fab. I love a good love story.” She spoke behind her hand, as if hiding her words from Mother Nature. “I’m the muse of erotic poetry. I can teach you some things for your wedding night.”
Nick laughed. “I think we’ve got that area covered, but thanks for offering.”
Gaia smiled at Brandee. “You won’t have to traipse anywhere anymore. Simply think about where you want to go and snap your fingers.”
Brandee’s eyes widened. “You mean I have supernatural powers now?”
“Try it and see.”
“Can Nick come with me?”
Mother Nature shrugged. “That’s up to you. Simply think about the two of you in a new place. Just be sure no one sees you as you come and go.”
“How do I do that?”
“I’ll teach you,” Erato said.
Brandee faced Nick and held both of his hands. “How do you feel about this, honey? Do you want me to take the job?”
“It’s your decision, sweetheart. I’ll support you no matter what you decide.”
Gaia nodded. “You’re a good man, Nicholas Wolfensen. I always knew you’d be an asset if you could just keep your paranormal trap shut.”
“An asset? Do you have a job for me too?”
“Not at the moment, but if I ever need a private investigator, I’ll know where to find one.”
“You can count on my help anytime, Goddess. And thank you.”
“For?”
“For making Brandee’s and my dreams come true.”
“Oh, that.” She waved away the compliment as if it were nothing. “Come, Erato. Let’s give your new sister and her fiancé some privacy.”
Mother Nature vanished.
Erato took a step closer. “I’ll check in with you tomorrow, Brandee, muse of film and digital images.”
“Wow. That’s a mouthful of a title,” Nick said.
“When should I find my gallery? And how will I pay for it? Oh, my promotion. I have so many questions!”
Erato took her free hand and patted it. “We’ll work it all out tomorrow. Meanwhile, get a good night’s rest and practice for your honeymoon.”
“Aren’t those things kind of mutually exclusive?”
Erato smiled. “I’ll give you some stamina tips.”
“Thank you.” Before Brandee could say another word, Erato winked and was gone.
Nick enveloped Brandee in a huge hug. “This turned out to be an even more memorable evening than I thought possible.”
“No kidding. It sounds like we won’t have to worry about airfare when it comes to our honeymoon, and I guess we could have our pick of places to go.”
“Are you still thinking about a long engagement?”
Brandee tipped her head and tapped her lower lip. “Not so much. Let me talk to Erato tomorrow. I have the feeling she’ll have some pre-wedding advice.”
Nick lifted her off the floor with a whoop and lowered her just enough to kiss her. “I love you, Brandee Wolfensen.”
Brandee threw her arms around his neck. “And I love you, Nick Hanson. That’s another thing we can work out tomorrow,” she said, and they both laughed.
“Good, because right now my mind is on other things.” He scooped her up into his arms, and she held onto his neck as he carried her up the stairs to their bedroom.
Epilogue
The bell hanging above the gallery door tinkled, and Brandee looked up to see Nick walking through it. She ran around the cash register and leaped into his arms. He caught her so easily she might as well have been a basketball. The image reminded her of what her stomach would look like in eight months. She couldn’t wait to tell him.
“Hi, sweetheart.”
“Hey, lover.”
They shared a quick kiss.
As Nick set her on her feet, he asked, “Can you get away for lunch?”
“I’d love to, but I probably shouldn’t. I had to put the ‘Back in Five Minutes’ sign in the window twice this morning.”
“Are your muse duties really keeping you that busy?”
“Yeah, but I got a few awesome shots while saving some fool trying to video his hike on Mount Everest. You should have seen him, hanging on to his tent pole and waving in the wind like a flag.”
Nick laughed. “I can’t wait to see the pics. Did you use digital or thirty-five millimeter film this time?”
Brandee strolled to her desk and pulled out the chair next to it, inviting Nick to sit down with her. “I used the thirty-five, but in the future, I think I’ll go exclusively digital. We’re going to need the small bedroom.”
Nick raised his brows. “Oh? Are we having guests?”
She flashed him a sly smile. “Sort of. He or she will be staying for about eighteen years.”
Nick’s mouth opened, but in a rare moment of speechlessness, no words came out. At last he cleared his throat and asked, “Are you telling me what I think you’re telling me?”
She grinned and nodded.
He shot to his feet and grabbed her around the waist. Lifting her high over his head, he looked up at her and cried, “Oh, my, hallelujah!” Then, as if suddenly remembering her “delicate condition,” he lowered her gently until her feet touched the floor and enveloped her in a tender hug.
Brandee snuggled against his chest. “I know you wanted children, but do you mind that it happened so soon?”
“I don’t mind a bit. That’s why I told you to throw away your birth control pills.”
“And you don’t care if our kids aren’t wolves like you?”
“Hell, no. I’m glad they won’t be. Thank goodness your muse buddies were able to answer that question for us.” He stroked her long hair over her back. “Why don’t I go get lunch and bring it here? I don’t want you skipping meals.”
“I’ll get it,” she said.
“If you’re planning on pickles and ice cream, I’d rather get my own.”
Brandee set a hand on her hip and gave him a look that she hoped would tell him where he could stick his pickle. “I’ll be right back.”
In the blink of an eye, or more accurately the snap of a finger, she was home. In record time, she had made a giant sandwich for Nick and a much smaller one for herself. She put them on the bamboo tray Kurt gave them as a wedding present and snapped her fingers, taking her back to the gallery. Nick was looking at his watch.
“So, how long was I gone?”
“Three and a half.”
“What? There’s no way I took three and a half whole minutes.”
Nick shook his head. “Not minutes. Seconds.”
“Seriously?”
“You should probably try to slow down a bit. You don’t want to give the baby whiplash.”
“Oh, my wonderful husband, I hope you’re not going to treat me like I’m some kind of fragile vase. I’m semi-immortal now, like you.”
“But is the baby?”
“I asked Erato and she said she’s not sure. This is kind of a whole new situation. She suggested I see the midwife the muses go to. I think her name is Hestia.”
Nick picked up his sandwich. “I’ll never get used to all those Greek names. How do you keep them straight?”
Brandee handed him a napkin. “It helps to meet them and put names to faces. I’ve only met a few and most of them are muses.”
“The only one I met besides Gaia was Apollo,” Nick said.
“You’re lucky. He sounds like one of the nice ones. I understand some gods are downright selfish or cranky.”
“And the gods think the goddesses are the cranky ones.”
She chuckled. “They sound pretty human, don’t they?”
“Shhh…don’t let them catch you saying that.”
“Do you think they’d send us to Outer Mongolia?”
“As lo
ng as we go together, it’s okay if they do.”
Read on for an excerpt from
How to Date a Dragon
Coming soon from Ashlyn Chase
and Sourcebooks Casablanca
“I’m never attending a destination wedding again.”
Bliss Russo dragged her garment bag and carry-on up the ramp to her Boston apartment building. Her purse had fallen off her shoulder ten minutes ago and dangled from her wrist. She needed the other hand to hold her cell phone to her ear so she could bitch to her friend Claudia.
“Oh, poor you. Someone made you go to Hawaii.” Claudia chuckled. “The bastards.”
“Seriously…do you know how long the flight is? Or I should say flights. First there’s the leg from Boston to L.A., then L.A. to Honolulu, and finally Honolulu to Maui. Two days later, I go from Maui to Honolulu. Then Honolulu to L.A. Then L.A. to Boston. Plus I had to follow Hawaiian wedding tradition—at least what the bride’s parents assured us was the tradition—and party all night. I haven’t slept for days.”
“You’re exaggerating.”
“No, I’m not. Unless you count the five-minute nap I took at LAX. I was so exhausted, I woke up on the chair next to me when the guy I had apparently fallen asleep on got up and left.”
“Sorry. Okay, you’re right. It was a lousy, miserable thing to make you do. So where are you now?”
“Almost home. In fact, I’ll probably lose you in the elevator. Give me a few days to sleep and I’ll call you back.”
“Call by Thursday if you can, and let me know if you want to go out Saturday night.”
Bliss jostled the door open, and one of the residents held it while she maneuvered her luggage through. “I shouldn’t. I worked a little harder and got a few days ahead so I could go to this damn wedding in the first place, but I really can’t afford to take any more time off. The competition will crush me.”
“That’s what you get for landing in the finals of your dream reality show. What is it? America’s Next Great Greeting Card Designer?”
“It’s not called America’s Next…oh, forget it. I’m at the elevator now and I’m too tired to care. I’ll call you.”
“Okay, sugar. Sweet dreams.”
“Thanks.” Bliss hung up and dropped her phone into the bowels of her purse. She yanked and stuffed her luggage into the tiny elevator, which she rode to the second floor. Eventually, she dragged everything to her door, rattled the key in her lock, and brought it all into her bedroom. Passing out on top of her bed fully dressed seemed like the only good idea she was capable of having, so she donned a sleep mask, did a face-plant, and stayed that way.
***
Hours later—or maybe days—Bliss awoke to a deafening blare. Still disoriented, she had no idea what the hell the noise was or, for that matter, if it was night or day. She tore off the sleep mask and still couldn’t tell what was going on. But what was that smell?
Oh. My. God. Smoke! That ear-piercing noise is the friggin’ fire alarm.
Bliss tried to remember what to do. Oh yeah, crouch down low and get the fuck out of Dodge. Thank the good Lord she lived on the second floor, because she couldn’t use the stupid elevator.
Bliss remembered just in time to put her hand to the door before opening it. It didn’t feel as though there were an inferno on the other side. Staying low, she opened the door. The smoke was so thick she could barely see. She held her breath and charged toward the end of the hall.
Suddenly, her head hit something firm and she fell backward. “Oomph.” The sharp intake of breath resulted in a coughing fit.
Looking up to see what she had hit, she realized she had just head-butted a firefighter’s ass.
He swiveled and mumbled through his mask. “Really? I’m here to save you, and you spank me?”
Despite her earlier panic, Bliss felt a whole lot safer and started to giggle. Oh no. My computer! “Wait, I have to go back…”
“No. You need to get out of here, now.” The firefighter lifted her like she weighed nothing—an amazing feat in itself—then carried her the wrong way down the rest of the hallway, through the fire door, and down the stairs.
“Wait!” She grasped him around the neck and tried to see his face through watering eyes.
His mask, helmet, and shield covered almost his whole head, but she caught a glimpse of gold eyes and a shock of hair, wheat-colored with yellow streaks, angled across his forehead. She thought it odd that the city would let firefighters dye their hair like rock musicians.
As soon as they’d made it to the street, she could see better and noticed his eyes were actually green and almond shaped. She must have imagined the gold color. He set her down near the waiting ambulance and pulled off his mask.
What a hottie! But I don’t have time for that now. She staggered slightly as she tried to head back toward the door.
He grabbed her arm to steady her. “Hey,” he shouted to one of the paramedics. “Give her some oxygen.”
“No, I’m fine. I don’t need any medical attention.” Thanks to the gorgeous hunk with the weird hair.
“Please…let them check you out.”
“I’d rather let you check me out.” She covered her mouth and grinned. “Sorry. It must be the smoke inhalation.
He laughed. “Seriously? First you grab my ass, and now you’re hitting on me?”
“I didn’t ‘grab your ass.’ For your information, I ran face-first into your…behind.”
“Oh. Well, pardon me for being in the way.”
His smile almost stopped her heart—or was it the lack of oxygen? Regardless, she had to rip herself away from him and get her computer out of the building before it melted. No matter how hard she pulled, he didn’t budge.
“You need to go back in there for my computer. Apartment twenty-five, halfway down the hall.”
He took off his gloves. “Look, I’m sorry, miss, but if I went back in there now, my chief would have my hide.”
“But my whole life is on that computer. I’m in the finale of a huge TV competition.”
He didn’t seem impressed, so she tried again.
“It’s my greeting card business and all my newest designs are there. This show would pay for a whole ad campaign and give me fifty grand if I win.” Realizing she sounded like a babbling idiot, she pressed on. “I’ve worked so hard to make it this far. If I lose my work, I’ll never catch up. I’ll wind up presenting a half-assed portfolio, and not only can I forget about winning, but it could ruin me!”
***
Drake couldn’t believe what he was hearing. His weakness might be beautiful brunettes, but did she honestly expect him to risk his life for an object that could be replaced? Could she not see smoke pouring out of the building? Sure, he could probably manage it, being fireproof and all, but after the chewing out he got the last time…
“Don’t you keep a backup file online?”
“No. I don’t trust the Internet,” she said with the saddest expression in her beautiful brown eyes. “There are too many hackers out there, and this greeting card competition is outrageously competitive. Pleeeease!”
All this hoopla for a piece of paper that reads, “Roses are Red. Violets are blue?” The brunette didn’t appear to be insane, no matter how stupid this reality show sounded. There were crazier things on TV.
His chief had already warned Drake about risking his neck and told him to knock off taking stupid chances. He’d lucked out the last time. The mayor, a big dog lover, heard that Drake had gone back into a two-alarm blaze to rescue a greyhound. Then Mr. Mayor made the chief disregard any thought of suspending Drake by giving him a medal. But that sort of luck wouldn’t hold, especially if this insubordination was about an inanimate object.
Drake reached out and physically turned the woman around so she could see the inferno behind her. The feel of her soft, warm skin se
nt an unexpected jolt of awareness through him.
Her hands flew to cover her mouth, and the same sad, desperate sound all fire victims made as they witnessed the destruction and loss of something precious eked out. The tears forming in her eyes did him in.
If he weren’t fireproof, running back into that building would toast him like a marshmallow, but being a dragon, he knew he could do it.
“Ah, hell.” Before anyone could stop him, he dashed in the side entrance. He could always say he thought he heard a call for help.
“Stop. Oh, crap,” was what he really heard. Apparently the brunette had changed her mind, but he was committed now.
Second floor, halfway down the hall, he repeated to himself until he found it. She had left her door open. Fortunate for him, not so much for her apartment. Smoke and flames were everywhere. He felt the familiar tingle just under his skin that signaled an impending shift. Fan-fucking-tastic. Skin became scales. Fingers became claws. His neck elongated, and out popped his tail, creating an unsightly bulge in the back of his loose coveralls. His wings were cramped and folded up under his jacket, but it couldn’t be helped.
His sight was greatly improved in his alternate form, and he spotted the Mac on her glass tabletop. The flames hadn’t reached it yet, so he did his best to grab it with his eagle-like talons and carry it against his chest.
Lumbering down the hall, he wondered where, and if, he’d be able to shift back before anyone saw him. Maybe it’s cooler in the basement—but what if I get trapped down there?
Instead of heading down another level, he opened the emergency door just enough to toss the laptop onto the grass outside. The outside air was so much cooler that he thought he might be able to shift back right there.
Concentrating on his human form, he inhaled the fresh air and sensed his head and body shrinking and compacting. He glanced down and saw his human hands again. His back felt enormously better without squished wings digging into it.
Ah…I made it undetected.
Or had he? The brunette was standing a few feet away, wide-eyed and open mouthed—hugging her computer.
***
