As I walked to my shop, Blooms and Blossoms, to open its doors for the very first time, I was surprised to find at least twenty people waiting outside, including several families. Smiling, I unlocked the doors and welcomed everyone, introducing myself.
People streamed into the shop, milling around and checking everything out, and I have to admit, I was a little nervous. A group of four younger women, in particular, seemed drawn to Charles, who was making an arrangement in a rather open spot. And I couldn't really blame them.
Dressed in faded blue jeans that hugged his muscular lower body like a second skin, with the sleeves of his black satin shirt rolled up and his long, shiny hair loosely gathered at his nape, he was the epitome of maleness. His focused expression, combined with the light smile curving his sensual lips, made his attractiveness undeniable. I had to admit to myself that I was truly lucky to have him not only as my husband and confidant, but also, oh my god, as my god in bed, between the sheets.
When he introduced himself as my husband to one of the women, the females eagerly started chattering with him. I directed the families and other customers to the coffee and cakes, chatting with them as well. As expected, I was inundated with questions, most of which had nothing to do with flowers, but rather with who we were.
There was also a group of elderly ladies checking my premade bunches, remarking on how much cheaper the place was compared to that overpriced old shop in Roseau. I had been worried that the new prices Charles had set would be too high, but it seemed they were still significantly cheaper than those in Roseau, which was all good. Soon, most of my ready-made bouquets had been snatched up.
As I was chatting with people, Charles finished his masterpiece and began walking around, shaking hands. Just then, about six young men came inside, but the females, completely smitten with Charles, dismissed them.
He, of course, was feeling possessive, and perhaps a little dramatic, because he came over to me like a jungle cat, wrapping his strong arms around me, pulling me close, and kissing me like he wanted to devour me. The crowd was surprised, the boys were smirking, and the females were even more captivated as our kiss lingered, leaving me breathless.
"Oh my god, that was so amazing! You two must have a really fantastic relationship. How long have you been married?" one of the women asked me.
"We have been together for over a century. Married? Well, it's a little complicated, but we have been each other's for a very long time. I do have other husbands too."
"But honey, do you see them here?" Charles murmured in my ear, his arms still wrapped around me.
"No, my love. Some of them are working, and you know, those ten..."
One of the men then inquired, "How many husbands or wives do you guys have?"
I answered, "Well, I have 14 husbands, but Charles only has two wives. The other one is busy with other husbands."
Another man remarked to Charles, "You are a lucky guy. She is a real catch, and despite her having so many men, she has chosen you."
Charles just grunted, pulling me closer. It wasn't easy for him to hear some random guy praise me. He was possessive and fiercely protective, and despite trusting me, he didn't want me interacting with too many strange men without him.
I was just wondering how in hell I would do my job. Well, this first week might be a little hard, but then Charles would go to his job, and I might have a little more leeway. But then again, Lepard was free, and I had no idea how possessive he would be.
It might be that I would have to distract these males a bit until we got on with this new way of life and this jealousy and need to possess me would mellow out.
Surely there would be a few bumps along the road, but then Charles put his hands over my belly, very protective, and said, "Mimi is expecting, not with me, but I can be daddy for these little ones."
The females were so taken, and Charles had gotten himself a veritable fan club.
One of the older ladies said to Charles, "Now young man, could you make arrangements? We have a book club coming up, and I was thinking maybe a little centerpiece would brighten things up, as the days are so short and dark."
Charles unwrapped himself from me, bowed to the woman, and asked, "What kind do you have in mind? What is your budget? What are your preferences for colors? Theme?"
He walked to my display case, starting to show different flowers and fillers. Soon, other old crones walked in and started to chatter to him, making suggestions, and he was soon piling up flowers.
Younger females were now examining my potted plants, and soon they, too were asking questions. Their inquiries weren't just about the plants; they wanted to know about my condition, how far along I was, and how many offspring I was expecting.
I replied, "Well, as a shifter vampire, mostly feline, I make litters, so I guess it will be a minimum of three, but it could be a lot more."
One of the middle-aged women then offered, "I have a lot of usable baby clothes if you need some. My daughter had triplets a few years back and then had her tubes tied, so there's no need for those clothes anymore. And as you know, babies grow so fast."
I nodded and said, "Thanks for offering, I'll keep that in mind. But as Charles said, I have no idea how many little ones I'm carrying, so only time will tell. I will have my first sonogram after Thanksgiving."
She added, "If you ever need a babysitter, I have a lot of friends with good and reliable girls."
I smiled and said, "This lot is just at the start. I estimate they will arrive in July or June, but I will have a better idea after my sonogram. So it will be quite some time before they make their debut."
She smiled and asked, "They are not your first?"
I shook my head. Meanwhile, Charles was busily making arrangements with the crones surrounding him, and now younger females were also coming over, telling him about their upcoming parties and such. Fine, it seemed my little reservation book had become Charles's reservations.
So I took the book and said, "Here is the reservation book. Write here what you need, when, your budget, and who you want to be the creator, and I'll try to make it happen. Charles will be available from time to time, as he is a trucker. Next week, when he starts, he's on the road for two weeks and then home for two weeks, so let's see what he wants and can do."
The females practically robbed the book from my hands and started to scribble in it. A little smug smile curved my husband's lips as he noticed just how needed he was. I was just hoping this fashion wouldn't spread throughout the whole damn pack, as this was, after all, my business.
Soon, I was also making a few bouquets while Charles chatted with customers and offered coffee. I was currently working on a huge bunch of red roses for a young man who wanted to pamper his girlfriend. My shop had been open for a few hours, and people kept coming in.
This particular customer was a blonde, surfer-looking guy, very friendly and eager for advice on how to keep the roses looking their best for a long time, as he was determined to impress his girl. With my back turned to the door, I didn't see Demon walk in.
Though he is generally laid-back, as Damon's son, he can be possessive, and I was his wife. He found me a little isolated from Charles, who was surrounded by middle-aged women still writing down their orders in his book, asking about his heritage and whether he knew any Native Americans from their acquaintance.
Demon's expression was tense as he made his way toward me. He grabbed me from behind, sank his fangs into my throat, not caring what my customers might think, and drank a bit of my blood, asserting his control.
Then, after removing his now bloody fangs from my vein, he turned me around, kissing me as if he hadn't seen me in ages, and said, "My love, care to let me up to speed too?"
After the initial shock, the older and younger women were drawn to Demon's seductive aura and began to ask him to make bouquets, as well as flirt with him. He, in turn, could flirt right back, quite shamelessly and spot-on, making all the young, innocent girls blush and prompting the young men to become possessive of their girls as well, drawing attention from the local blokes.
While Charles was still in a sea of women, Demon kept his eye on me, making a few bouquets. He had his own ideas, but he wasn't as popular as Charles, who seemed to have orders pouring in.
I knew Charles could make most of those bouquets well in advance and use a spell to preserve them, leaving me to ensure their timely delivery. And since we had some cut flowers at home, he could work on them there as well if he chose to.
I was chatting with customers when, surprisingly, a large number of them came in. Most of them made purchases; in fact, a lot of bouquets were bought. All of my ready-made bouquets sold out, and during the brief pauses I had, I tried to make one or two more while Charles or Demon brewed fresh pots of coffee and reorganized the plants to improve their display.
However, by the time I restocked the display case with my creations, someone would always come in and buy them, so I definitely had my hands full. Despite this very successful day, I suspected that the initial enthusiasm would wane and business would become calmer. Nevertheless, it had been a very good start, and I had met so many people.
In addition to Charles and Demon, I received many offers for help, ranging from cleaning to childminding, as soon as they learned I was expecting. Of course, I also received invitations to various places and meetings, from book clubs to church.
Some of these invitations included Charles and Demon, but there were also quite a few female-only groups, which was a little hard for Charles and Demon to accept, as they were quite possessive. They didn't want me going anywhere by myself, especially at first, but I hoped they would relax a bit as time went on.
Then, of course, there was the looming confrontation, the inevitable crisis that would occur as soon as a Salvatore asked the right questions and received some answers. I had no idea how difficult it would be for me to go anywhere in my spare time or even be at work. I was pretty sure that at least four of them had jobs in town, so they were nearby.
Only time would tell what the future held, and that time was not yet here. Surely Mariella would be observing and keeping not just me under control, and this brought another problem to my mind: how hard would it be for the Salvatores to accept my business?
I mean, me having my very own business, not a pack business, but mine alone. Would Mariella make a drama out of this, or would she suddenly have some sense? I couldn't see the future, and according to Reddington, no one could see the future during this time.
The huge irony was that this would merge into the real world after these 13 years, meaning my business would still exist, and everything we had done would exist. Everyone would still know me, and it might be a little shocking for them when the truth finally came out – who I really was and what I had done.
I was considering the future, a period of thirteen years. Or rather, I was counting my time backwards; thirteen years into the past would land me… well, I wasn't sure I wanted to go there. I was calculating that my five previous children would be around seven or ten years old by the time this whole situation was over.
They would have grown twice as fast as normal, and it had been, let's say, a year and a half, or more like twenty months for our imprisonment and recovery, plus eight months in Australia. That's about two years and four months. Adding the thirteen months of this stint, which is another two years and two months, would bring their age to around six years and ten months. Since they were about seven months old when everything started, they'd be at least eight years old.
However, their growth rate wasn't so simple to calculate; they might grow even more. And then there were our little holidays as well, so yeah, time really flew by. Thirteen years… my life was so damn hectic, or rather, it *had* been. So much had happened.
But for now, this was all about creating human life, as much as we could. Despite my chaotic life, I was pondering and counting time in my mind while making flower bouquets, even though it was almost closing time. They would easily last until tomorrow.
Could I really do this? Or would I be bored to death before I was even halfway through? Did I have enough patience to be pregnant for nine months? Could I just stay at home, becoming a mom for almost a year while the men worked? Would I miss the drama, the drive, and my freedom?
No more private holidays on my islands, or road trips with Wulfe, or even just by myself, but instead living in a family. And if Damon, for some reason, took his mantle as pack leader back, would he make my life a living hell with his rules, regulations, and demands for me to spread my legs and be under him? Or would that role be preserved just for Mariella? Oh God, I hoped so. Sure, I was a hot-blooded woman, but not a sex toy. Mariella was more like that.
"What in the world are you pondering, honey?" Charles's voice crooned in my ear.
"Nothing much, I guess. I just have some jitters about the future, about this whole damn thing, and what it will turn into once the Salvatores are on board."
"Well, honey," Charles assured me, wrapping his hands around my still-lean waist, "we are here for you. No matter what the Salvatores do or don't do, we are here for you, all five of us. Even when we are working, someone will always be with you; we are going to make sure of that."
His voice, once more like melted chocolate, soothed my insecurities, my neuroses, and my anxieties, as it always did. It made me realize that I didn't need to be as greedy as Mariella and horde ten men; five would be more than enough for me.
After all, I only had three holes and my hands. As my mind drifted into the gutter, I felt my husband's hot, firm body pressing so tightly against me that I felt every little, and not-so-little, aspect of his anatomy.
He was pressing hot and hard against me, and I wasn't sure if I was so hungry that I would have the energy to focus on eating once we closed up shop and went home. But then, the door jiggled as several new clients walked in, and we were back in business.