I feel the Power moving through me, the intense strength of our vows and our union. The room’s energy intensifies with our Power, and then later, when we’re sated and calm, the vibrations calm with us.
“I feel the shift in our Power,” I say as I drag my fingertips lazily up and down his arm. “It’s incredible.”
“And will continue to grow. It’s important that we do what Miss Sophia said and practice.”
“We will.” I snuggle against him, trying to get even closer. “But not tonight.”
“No, a stór mo chroí, tonight is just for us.”* * *“Thank the goddess Café du Monde is open 24/7,” I say as we climb the steps of our front porch.
“These are better eaten outside,” he says and leads me to the porch swing.
We’d intended to keep the rope tied around our hands all night, but about an hour ago, I said I was craving beignets, so we pulled the cord through, making the knot, and got dressed to go get takeout.
It’s 4:30 a.m., so we kept the rope tied for a good stretch of time.
And who can say no to fresh beignets?
Not this witch.
We’re sitting side by side on the swing, listening to the cicadas as we munch on the still-hot treats, covered in so much powdered sugar, I’ll look like a ghost when we’re finished.
I don’t care.
“The sign says they’ve been open since 1862,” I say as I chew and then sip my frozen café au lait. “And if we were here after that year, I’m going to assume that I’m so addicted to these babies in this life because I gorged on them in the last one, as well.”
He laughs and wipes his mouth with a napkin. “They were your favorite, absolutely. When you were pregnant, you asked me to go get them for you at least three times a week.”
I glance his way in surprise. “Wow, that’s a lot of sugar. I bet I gained a hundred pounds.”
“No, you didn’t. And if you had, who cares? You were pregnant and wanted a treat.”
“Wow. Are you a robot? Because you’re pretty wonderful.”
“I’m old,” he says with a shrug. “I’m an old man in a thirty-six-year-old’s body, Millicent. I always acted older than my age when I was a kid, and was teased for it, although I didn’t care. I’ve been through so many lifetimes that I learned how to be kind and patient.”
“So, you got your asshole years out of you about eight-hundred years ago.”
He laughs again and then nods. “Yeah, I guess so. My wild bachelor days when I was young and stupid were a long, long time ago. And, I love you. No matter what you look like, or what you eat, I love you. I always have. So, eat your sweets. I don’t care.”
“If I could find a way to clone and sell you, I could be richer than that dude who owns Amazon. You’re exactly the guy that every woman is looking for.”
“Well, I’m also a little overprotective, I don’t always pick up after myself, and I once got a B in biology.”
“No.” I clutch my chest as if I’m completely appalled. “Well, never mind then. No one wants someone who got a B in biology.”
I lick my lips and stare down into the empty bag.
“All gone?” he asks.
“Yep. That’s okay.” I brush off my hands and scoot closer to Lucien. He reaches out and gently brushes some powdered sugar off my cheek.
“You always were messy when it came to these.”
“I mean, it comes with the territory,” I say. “Okay, let’s talk about something less fun.”
His face sobers. “Okay. Is everything all right, darlin’?”
“Well, it will be. If you let me redecorate the master bedroom. It’s just so boring in there, Lucien. It screams: I’M A MAN AND I DON’T CARE ABOUT LINENS. Do you care if I freshen it up a bit?”
He’s laughing now, his fingers pressed to his eyes. “I thought you were going to tell me something horrible, what with everything that’s been going on lately.”
“Maybe this is horrible. Maybe you love your plain comforter and mismatched furniture. Did you get that at yard sales, by the way? How does a man who drives such a sexy car have such horrible taste in home goods?”
“I’m hardly home,” he says and wraps his arm around me to tug me tightly against him. “I don’t care where I sleep, as long as it’s warm and comfortable. I told you, this house is yours. Decorate it any way you like.”
“I don’t want you to think that I’m coming in here and just changing everything. That’s not it at all.”
“You need to make this your home, Millie.”
“You know, I don’t think women would care about the B in biology, after all.”
I sigh and lean on my man as we swing on our porch, listening to the very early morning sounds of the French Quarter.