“No, I never have. I mean, I guess we never have. It’s a good idea, though, except she already had her soulmate. She loved my grampy more than anything in the world. I think that’s why she became so unhinged after he died.”
Elodie pinches my arm lightly. “Hey! Don’t say that about her. She’s not unhinged. And people can have more than one soulmate.”
“Gah! Don’t say that. That would unearth a whole can of worms.”
“Well, maybe not a soulmate, but I think people can love more than one person for different reasons. I’m not one of those people who believe there’s just one person for everyone out there. I mean, only one. Does that make sense?”
I pinch Elodie’s bottom to get back at her for pinching my arm. Or maybe because she’s wearing a short yellow sundress, and her bottom is lovely in the silky panties she has on underneath it. She lets out a squeal, but her hands tighten on my shoulders as she leans into me.
“Okay, so there might only be one person in the world for me. One soulmate, one love. But not everyone has to be like that.”
“I’m glad to hear you admit it. I was getting worried there for a second.”
“No, you weren’t.” She kisses me on the cheek. “And don’t think for a second that you can pull a puppy dog face to make me save these cookies for you. I’m definitely giving them to your granny and Bill.”
“Are you sure about that?” I kiss her hard, and when she wriggles against me, I can feel my cock straining against my jeans.
“Stop that,” Elodie says breathlessly, swatting me affectionately. “You’re making me lose my focus over here.”
“Am I also making your panties wet?” I tease.
“Beast!”
“I’ll be a beast if I can be your sexy beast,” I grind out in what I’d now like to think of as my sexy beast tone.
“Oh, good heavens.” Elodie keeps a straight face for about two point seven seconds before she bursts out laughing. “Yes, you make my panties wet. Sopping. And. Totally. Moist.” She drags the last word out since she knows it makes me cringe. I think it makes everyone cringe because it’s universally cringeworthy. “You know what I love most about you?”
“My rock-hard bottom, chiseled abs, square jaw, the many things I can do with my tongue, and my magical wonder stick, giver of wondrous orgasms?”
Elodie flushes, and she laughs again. “Oh my god. No, I mean yes, but no. I love that you’re never boring. I wouldn’t ever call you predictable.”
“Well, you know what I love most about you?”
“What?”
“I love that you’re good, patient, kind, and gorgeous, but it goes all the way to your very soul. Your soul is freaking gorgeous too.”
“I bet you’re glad about that, seeing as you own it.”
“And you own mine,” I add, looking deep into Elodie’s beautiful eyes.
Yeah, we might have refreshed the soul contracts as a joke. Seriously, only as a joke. But the curse, though? That’s still real. The brooch still turns up in strange places when we least expect it, and I have no idea how it happens or if it crawls, rolls, or levitates. Or maybe Jeffers keeps finding it and moving it around. That could be plausible. It’s certainly a less creepy explanation. It also hasn’t stabbed either of us in a long time, so that’s a big plus.
“I like you so much that it scares me sometimes. No, I love you so much that it definitely scares me. A lot. But you know what I’m most afraid of?”
“What?” Elodie asks.
“That your granny will show up at our future wedding with the hairiest legs on the planet.”
Elodie laughs so hard that she starts doing the silent laugh, just shaking. She wipes a tear out of her eye. “Oh wow. We haven’t even set a date yet, and besides, you haven’t even asked me. We also don’t even know if we want to get married, and you’re already freaking out about my grandmother’s legs.”
“I was kidding. That’s not what scares me most. And we will get married. One day. When we both decide it’s right. We’ll figure it out, and I’ll ask you in some grand, dramatic, overly romantic way. When we do have our wedding, it’ll be perfect because you’ll plan everything while I just sit around giving super basic inputs. And when the day comes, your granny can show up, hairy legs or not, and I’ll be thrilled because you’re the only part of the wedding that will matter anyway. You’ll look beautiful no matter what, and you’ll probably make me cry or pass out or…or…”
“Shart?”
“Good lord, I’m never going to live that down, am I?”
“Likely not, but it’s okay. I still love you anyway. I’ll just remember to bring a change of underwear and an extra set of pants for you, so no one knows.”