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"N-no, they're the right size," I mumbled, keeping my eyes on my wallet, pretending to count my money.
"Oh! Oh…" Her voice turned saucy, and she leaned in closer. "Do you have a friend staying over?"
This was why I always shopped online or used the self-checkout whenever I could. Online shops didn't judge what I bought. Self-checkouts didn't spread rumors.
I fumbled for a lie, anything to get her to stop digging. "I like my clothes baggy."
Marta's eyes darted down to the skinny jeans I wore, then up to my fitted coat. I'd always hated oversized jackets, ever since I was a kid. Of course I'd chosen the least believable lie available to me right then.
You're a mess, Quinn.
I'd heard that so many times in my life, first from my family, then almost daily from Aaron, and it never stopped being true.
Marta kept scanning, pausing for a moment at the boots that would absolutely never fit me. She raised an eyebrow and gave me an expectant look, but I was done talking. Everything I said just made it worse. By Monday, half the town would hear the rumor that I had a secret boyfriend. Anything else I said would give them more room to make up whatever embellishment tickled their fancy.
The amused little hum she let out told me she didn't need my help and was already adding details to whatever rumor she was going to start. I really should have remembered before getting in her line that she was part of Mrs. Sharper's infamous euchre club. They didn't feed The Crossing's rumor mill; they were The Crossing's rumor mill.
Fuck my life.
She left me in peace while she finished scanning, only speaking up again when I'd paid and was nearly free.
"I hope you have a very good night, Quinn," she said, giving me a salacious grin that seemed more appropriate for a madam at a brothel. What exactly did she think I planned to do with this mysterious boyfriend she'd invented for me?
Nope. I do not want to know. Don't even try to guess.
"I will." I immediately regretted my choice of words when her smile grew wider. "I-I mean… yeah. You, too. Have a good night. And weekend. Call me when you need an appointment." Shut up, shut up, shut up, Quinn! "Okay. Bye."
This wasn't the first time I'd fled a place of business after humiliating myself in front of someone, and I doubted it would be the last. The embarrassment haunted me all the way back to my cabin, and I was still blushing when I pulled into the driveway.
I took a moment to sit in the dark car, listening to the engine ping as it cooled down, trying to pull myself together. My location just outside town meant there were no neighbors around to see me, something I'd always appreciated. I'd lived in town when I was with Aaron, and too many people had seen me walking around with red-rimmed eyes. Sunglasses helped hide the signs of tears, but later, not even the deepest jacket hood could hide the bruises. I'd felt their eyes on me; I knew there were rumors, and yet, no one said a single thing to my face or asked any questions. At the time, I'd been grateful. Questions just lead to more problems. Looking back, a small part of me held onto a petty bitterness.
That's rich. You couldn't even help yourself, and you're mad no one swooped in and saved you from your own mistakes? So pathetic.
Self-recrimination chased me out of the car, nipping at my heels while I gathered the bags and hurried inside. Once I was there, though, the sight that greeted me was enough to quiet the voice.
I'd left Typhon sitting on the couch with the remote control for the TV, explaining how it worked so he could watch something. The TV was still dark, and now Typhon was lying on the couch, a throw blanket covering his hips, and four kittens asleep on his broad chest. Romulus lay on his bed near the fireplace and he was the only one to stir when I walked in the door. The fact that he'd fallen asleep with Typhon nearby was mind-blowing. This was the most relaxed he'd been around Typhon since he'd stepped out of the woods a week ago.
Placing the bags down as gently as I could, I pulled out my phone and snapped a few pictures. I couldn't help myself. Asleep, without the strain and worry dragging him down, Typhon was breathtaking. To be fair, even when he was awake, he was the most beautiful man I'd ever seen. But he looked completely at peace right now, stretched out on my couch with the kittens sleeping on him, his curls framing his face. There was even a very faint smile tugging at his lips, like he was having a good dream. I hoped so. He deserved it.
I moved into the kitchen and unpacked the bags as quietly as I could, trying not to disturb anyone. Only Rom followed me, leaning his big body against my legs while I sorted out clothing and medical supplies. Even he seemed more relaxed. Whatever truce he and Typhon had come to, it'd settled the tension between them at last.
I'd just finished putting the last of the food away when I heard the skittering of claws on tile and turned to find Porthos and D'Artagnan scrambling across the kitchen floor. The two of them crashed into my legs and immediately started crying for attention as if they hadn't just been using Typhon as a pillow.
"Varmints," I muttered affectionately, picking them up and snuggling them as commanded. They rubbed against me, little claws digging into my shoulder and reminding me they were overdue for a nail trim. They accepted a few seconds of cuddles before mewling to be let down to play with their brothers.
Beside me, Rom's ears perked, and I followed his gaze to see Typhon standing in the kitchen doorway. The throw blanket was long gone, and he stood there completely naked except for the bandages. He seemed completely unbothered by it, while I'm pretty sure my face was on fire.
"I didn't hear you come in," he rumbled, his voice raspy with sleep in a way that absolutely didn't immediately get me a little hard.
As casually as I could, I sidestepped to stand behind the kitchen island, putting it between us. "You needed the sleep. Thank you for putting up with the kittens climbing all over you."
He smiled at the two I held, soft and affectionate. "I don't mind. They're sweet." He glanced up at me with that same look in his eyes, and my brain short-circuited.
Maybe this past week had been one wild hallucination. Maybe I'd had an accident and was in a coma or something? There was no way a man as perfect as Typhon was really standing in my house, smiling at me like I was something precious. Things like this didn't happen to me.
"Quinn?"
Just hearing him say my name shouldn't affect me like this. This couldn't be real. But when I pinched my thigh behind the cover of the kitchen island, I definitely felt it. So, somehow, this really was happening.