Beaufort Creek Shifters (10 book series)
The Dragon’s Pretend Marriage Chapter 6

Brandi

Oh, sweet gods. Oh, merciful deities. Old gods of Appalachia, why the hell am I doing this right now?

My brain spun out of control when I walked through the doors of a fancy restaurant located high above Beaufort Creek. Round tables sprouted around us in an expansive dining room, the carpeted ground cushioning my steps. It would have been fine if the fibers of the carpet hadn't caught my stiletto heel three times on the way to a corner booth overlooking a lush roof garden.

Dragon shifters-they just always have to show off, don't they?

My chest swelled with embarrassment when I tripped and caught Milton's arm. He caught me with graceful ease. I failed to see how he could smile so gently under such stressful conditions. The mob of photographers outside had been stressful enough. Now I had to subject myself to meeting his parents.

Like that was anything short of an actual nightmare.

Waiters floated like ghosts between tables, accomplishing what seemed to be impossible feats like balancing giant trays full of food on their heads. Their eyes reflected a magical sheen. They weren't of this world-not the earth dimension, anyway. That explained why I didn't feel my usual round of discomfort. These weren't humans at all, not by a long shot. If there was a human in the vicinity, that poor soul probably had no idea they were in the company of supernatural beings. Beasts and fae creatures alike occupied the area. Their scent thickened in the air.

At least that was reassuring.

Mr. and Mrs. Kane swiveled to face us at the exact same time. Mrs. Kane had auburn hair hanging in swirling curls around her shoulders with a peach complexion pampered to perfection. Her cream pantsuit hosted a yellow sash that swayed with her body as she

rose.

I stopped in my tracks. This woman was short. Especially when her husband joined her at her side. Mr. Kane towered over her, sharing the same auburn hair with gray streaking throughout the hair he kept combed out of his eyes. Kind agate stones observed us. His beige suit matched his wife's outfit-and suddenly, I didn't feel so silly about matching Milton.

Shifters were loyal creatures. We tended to mimic each other. With an almost annoying consistency, too. What appeared like fashion to humans was merely shifters attempting to connect with each other. We did it often and we did it well.

Milton and I were literally doing the same thing.

Mrs. Kane beamed while opening her arms. "Finally! My son brings home a proper lady." She stood on her toes, tilting her cheek to me.

Did that mean something? Was I expected to do something?

Milton nudged me lightly. I got the impression he was speaking to me without saying a word, to the point where I could have sworn I heard him say, "Kiss her cheek."

But his lips hadn't moved at all.

How was that possible?

I smiled and bent forward, greeting Mrs. Kane with a kiss on each cheek. She returned the greeting and then stepped back, Mr. Kane taking her place. I repeated the greeting with him and joined their booth, choosing to sit next to Mrs. Kane. It seemed the appropriate thing to do even if I thought gender norms were completely bogus.

Milton looked impressed. Mr. Kane granted his son an approving grin.

Alright, that's one thing, I thought timidly. What else am I going to accidentally get right?

Champagne appeared at the table along with a waiter who appeared to emit a supernatural glow. He held up his hands and procured a pad of paper with a pen out of thin air.

Magicians. They're the only ones who could do such a thing. The fae were capable of the same, but they tended to look more like gorgeous aliens than humans. And this being looked like a human.

So, he was very likely a magician.

Each person ordered from memory while I frantically searched the table for a menu. Just as I started to freak out, an idea occurred to me.

I let my lips move on their own. "Glazed lamb chops with a vegetable medley, please."

The magician bowed his head. "Rare?"

"Yes, absolutely."

He smiled. "Coming right up."

When he waved his hands, the cork on the champagne bottle popped off, and bubbling liquid spilled into each glass. Not a drop landed on the table. Polite applause echoed around me, inviting me to join them. It stopped when the waiter bowed. I closed my eyes. That's two for two. What's next?

"So, Brandi"-That was Mrs. Kane speaking-"what do you do for a living?"

Christ, I hate this question. I plastered on my best smile and opened my eyes. "I'm a student."

"A student? Of what?" She lifted her glass and took a delicate sip. "Do you go to Beaufort University?"

I shook my head. "Sociology. But for shifters."

"Ah," Mr. Kane sighed while lifting his glass. "We need more people focused on the structure and functioning of our various societies, especially when it comes to engaging with human beings."

Mrs. Kane nodded. "They're such confusing creatures. Never mind their backward ways."

"You mean like weird gender roles?" Milton scoffed. "You're literally doing the same thing here."

"If you want to talk about the contract, it can wait until later," Mr. Kane stated blandly. "It's not weird if you agree to it, is it, Milton?"

Milton rolled his eyes. "I had no choice but to agree with it. I wasn't even eighteen yet when you proposed the idea. You took advantage of me as a minor."

"You were fifteen. That's practically forty in dragon years," his mother argued with a calm tone. "We age so much faster than regular humans. The speed of about-"

"Approximately three times that of the average animal shifter," I finished for her. "That doesn't take into account the aging rate of the fae or magicians." I tapped my jawline curiously. "And then, there are even older creatures, trolls and gnomes and dwarves, for example. Their rate of aging usually depends on their environment and diet."

Mrs. Kane brightened significantly. "You know so much about our world. You're undoubtedly learned in various customs as well." She nodded. "That's so useful in our line of work."

"I'm not familiar with most greetings, actually," I admitted. "I had no idea how to greet you and Mr. Kane. I'm afraid I'm not around dragons very often."

"And honest," Mrs. Kane added with approval. "Milton, if you don't marry her tomorrow, we're taking the entire company right out from under your feet."

Milton turned about four shades of red while his father cackled next to him. Something deep down urged me to chuckle politely. Surely it was a joke-it had to be a joke. That was what my wolf kept barking about.

I chuckled, inspiring Mrs. Kane to burst into giggles next to me. She rested her hand on my shoulder in a motherly gesture, sending a bolt of warmth directly to my heart. It was so natural, so simple, so wonderful to feel her approval. And the sound of Mr. Kane laughing seemed to cement that feeling.

Was this how it felt to be accepted by people? This distinctly unique and hearth-like feeling?

My hand fled to my heart, resting over the thumping muscle. Acceptance, warmth, joy-they were a chorus of sounds resonating inside my chest like music in an amphitheater. Milton stared at me from across the table, his eyes brilliant twin flames that illuminated my soul.

The heat intensified. I couldn't ground myself, lost in the hazy swirl of emotions dancing between us. Just like the way he'd danced me around the foyer of his penthouse earlier. Effortless motions had led to his hand on my waist. Sweetness had guided his path. I'd followed him without question, unable to break away.

Just like now.

Just like this moment.

I never wanted it to end.

***

The night unfolded with a practiced ease. Once Milton recovered from his mother calling him out, he relaxed in his silk shirt and slacks, taking the helm of the conversation with his father. The two of them were like dancing tornadoes. It was amazing to watch how they jovially debated numbers and practices.

My criticisms didn't go unheard. Mrs. Kane agreed that their transportation methods were damaging. After all, if they were truly the remarkable beings that dragons want to be, then they should care about the state of the world in which they live-even if that includes oceans that they never intend to explore.

It was such a strangely affirming dinner.

And nothing could have ended the night better than Milton taking my hand as we left the restaurant.

My head was fuzzy when we reached the limo. A long line of admirers flanked the other side of the street with security keeping them as far away as possible. The right tire clipped the sidewalk, sending Milton directly into my lap.

Without missing a beat, he rolled to his back and grinned up at me. "Hello, dear moonbeam. How do you feel?" "Elated."

Had that word really left my lips? No, that was silly. Telling Milton that I was feeling anything other than satisfied was not practical.

It was lethal.

I needed to take it back right this instant. My hand swept over his cheek as I attempted to correct myself. "I'm overflowing."

"With food?"

With heart. Nope, that was definitely hazardous. Nothing should have made me want to say it either. The simple fact of the matter was that the night with the Kanes had gone remarkably well. Where they had seemed to be snobby, it was proved to me that they were actually far more grounded in their culture than most shifters.

Glamorous? Sure. Full of themselves? Absolutely.

Close-minded? Far from it.

And that just made me want Milton that much more.

Milton narrowed his eyes curiously. His pupils overwhelmed his irises. As he parted his lips, he rested his hand over my hand. "Stay with me tonight."

It wasn't an invitation. It was hardly even a question.

The way he said it was a command, one that every inch of my body had every intention of fulfilling.

Once again, my lips moved. "Yes, of course."

That was the goal, wasn't it? To get into his home and his arms? His protection was invaluable and I would have my fair share of lavish accommodations. Still, the thought of not returning home made me feel bad.

Until I texted Lenny about it. They encouraged me to stay with Milton.

So, with Milton I would stay.

***

"Coffee," I sighed as I slid into a chair near the dining room table. I rubbed my temples. "Magical champagne is a headache inducer, for sure."

"Coming right up, moonbeam."

What a name-moonbeam. Had he thought of it all by himself? Or was it something from his treasure trove of names he had given one of his little hookups at some point?

Does it matter?

My brows furrowed together. The scent of coffee brewing lured me out of my brain, drawing me into the wide kitchen. Black and white tile scurried across the room, leading to island counters of marble and various cooking stations. Onyx black appliances broke the space between counters. It looked like he could feed an entire ship in here, including the crew.

I whistled. "Jesus."

"Wait until you see the arcade."

I gaped at him. "You have an arcade? In here?" I gestured around. "Where the hell have you been hiding an arcade?"

A chuckle and a quick serving of coffee later, Milton guided me down one of the many hallways crawling through his penthouse suite. Did this man have a limit to what he could do? To what he wanted?

My heart jumped into my throat when I walked through a set of burgundy doors. It felt like I had walked back in time to what I presumed was an eighties-style arcade design. Right down to the carpet.

I pointed to the square in the far corner. "Is that a ball pit?"

"Why? Would you like to jump in?"

He yanked me in that direction without waiting for a response. I tumbled after him, my heart hammering in my chest the closer we drew to the ball pit. For a dragon, Milton was incredibly playful. Insisting, charming, terrifying-those were the words that came to mind. For even though we had just spent a successful evening with his parents, I wasn't sure how successful our night would end up being.

Things were different when we were alone.

Things were much more...complicated.

Milton paused, panting as he motioned toward the pit. He loosened his tie. "Last one in is a rotten egg."

"What are you, twelve?"

He dove into the center of the pit, sending colorful plastic balls scattering in every direction. Some of them spilled from the plastic edges. He spread his arms wide and sloshed around, creating a loud white noise that overwhelmed the entire arcade. "Come on," he urged. "Don't be a rotten egg. Just be my egg."

"Be your what?"

He didn't respond. He didn't even blink. He simply leaned forward and grabbed my arm-and then yanked me into the pit.

Cold plastic balls to the face were the last thing on my list tonight. But here I was, giggling maniacally while a mischievous dragon tried to induce a ball fight. I surfaced and struggled to get my footing, sloshing some balls in his direction. He covered his face and then plunged, swimming around like it was nothing.

How the hell was he doing that?

Milton appeared next to me. He leaned close, a rumbling sound echoing from his chest.

I smirked. "You're purring again."

"I won't deny it this time."

"Why are you purring?"

An ethereal green spark glittered in his eyes. He honed in on my lips, zeroing in by the second. We were about to make contact. Would I be able to handle that again?

Or would I run away as I did with everything else?