Whose Bed Have Your Claws Been Under?: A sweet & steamy monster romance (Monsterville, USA Book 3)

Whose Bed Have Your Claws Been Under: Chapter 7



Letting Darrow into my world could result in a lot of hurt. He was right that we’d changed. We weren’t the same people we’d been back then, and it wasn’t only because he was a gorgon.

Our careers had taken us in different directions. I wasn’t surprised when he mentioned working with stone. What else could a medusa do? His eyes didn’t meet mine when he talked about his past, and I sensed there were secrets there he wasn’t ready to share.

We all did things we regretted. We were human, and at his core, that’s who Darrow still was. The guy I’d grown up with and had such an incredible crush on when we were teenagers.

I admired him greatly. He’d taken what most would consider a curse and turned it into something admirable. A job that he not only enjoyed but one that had value.

I wasn’t sure how I would’ve responded if I’d been kidnapped along with him and changed into something monstrous.

Gunner’s sister, Poppy, seemed to love being an orc, though she came from a town where monsters were created when they drank a brew. She dressed in what I called Disney attire and flaunted her green skin and orc shape. Given a choice, I doubted she’d change back.

Darrow was still my childhood friend, and that was all that mattered. I liked how he looked now. It was hard to keep from stroking his silver face and letting his hair coil around my fingers.

As we walked through the maze holding hands, a feeling of promise bloomed inside me.

For the first time since I saw him standing at the altar, I could fully rejoice in him being alive. Life had handed me a second chance, and I was going to cling to it, milking everything I could from this weekend.

Partway down one of the paths weaving through the maze, I stopped and looked around. I was convinced the opening on the left led back to the center, though I wasn’t sure.

“Didn’t we already walk this way?” I asked.

He shrugged. “I have a crappy sense of direction.”

“Oh, my yes, I remember when you got lost going into town to buy my fourteenth birthday gift.”

He squirmed. “I didn’t exactly get lost back then. I ran into a friend, and he wanted to go fishing. Next thing I knew, we were standing on the bank of the lake reeling in bass, exclaiming about how huge they were.”

I scowled, placing a fist on my hips. “You told me you got lost.”

“I, um, kinda did.” I believed his solemn tone until I noted the sparkle in his teal eyes.

“You lied to me,” I said, unable to believe it.

His arm went around my waist, and he tugged me close. I should fight this gesture sixteen-year-old Darrow had never used. It was a man thing, and man things led to . . . Well, we all knew the answer to that.

“I caught a fish, and I brought it home for your birthday, didn’t I?” he said. “I even removed the scales and cleaned out the guts.”

“You know I don’t like fish.” I scrunched my nose at him. “I can’t believe you did that, and I can’t believe you didn’t spill the beans and tell me you messed up.”

“I crushed on you awfully bad back then, Paige.” Only sincerity came through in his voice. “I didn’t want to disappoint you.”

I wanted to ask if he’d had a crush on anyone else since, but it would be wrong of me to ask. He thought I left him, and it was only right he move on with someone new.

Oh, shit, wait.

“You’re not, like, married or anything, are you?” I squirmed out of his arms and backed up until I ran into the shrub wall.

“Do you think I’d be asking for another chance if I was?” His snake hair flicked sideways, standing out straight. Huh. Did they always do that when he was agitated? I’d have to watch to see if this was an emotional tell.

“No, not really. I figured I should ask.”

“I’m not married. I haven’t been with anyone for a while.”

Fair enough. “Me either.”

“Good,” he said pertly.

“Good,” I echoed just as pertly.

“I think we need to take that path,” I said, pointing to an intersection ahead, partway between here and the end of the aisle.

‘Lead the way, my lady,’ he said, sweeping the tails of his black suit jacket out, giving me a deep bow.

“Follow me.” I strode past him, and he scooted to keep up, trailing his fingers down my spine. I shot him a dark glance. “Touchy-feely, aren’t you?”

His hands lifted as if he’d been burned. “Would you rather I didn’t touch?”

I couldn’t very well say no, now could I?


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