Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 77764 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 389(@200wpm)___ 311(@250wpm)___ 259(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77764 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 389(@200wpm)___ 311(@250wpm)___ 259(@300wpm)
She continues to smile up at me, her face wreathed in happiness. “Well, today was a pretty good day if you ask me. Fresh clothes, my mate washing my hair for me, and a nice hot stream to bathe in. Oh, and a quickie in the water. I liked that part, too.” F’lor squeezes my hand, content to walk at my side. “I’m surprised you managed to get away with me for a whole day. Everything’s been so busy with the newcomers and the whole fruit cave situation.”
I clear my throat. “I spoke with Leezh.”
F’lor pauses. “Oh, ugh. You did?” She makes a face. “Did she tease you again?”
“Yes.” My pride will not let me expound on it.
She gets a fierce expression on her face. “For what it’s worth, I think it’s cute that you called them ‘taters.’ And the English language is a beast anyhow.” She runs a hand up my arm. “Do you want me to beat her up for you? Only I’m allowed to laugh at the way you mangle words.”
I snort. My F’lor would be nothing but a nuisance to the much fiercer Leezh, but I appreciate her offer. “I would rather you find some bit of gossip and mock her mercilessly with it.”
F’lor brightens. “I’ll tell her I’m going to name our kid Anakin if it’s a boy. She’ll shit an absolute brick that I get the name before she does.”
“And…are we going to name our son that?”
“Fuck no,” F’lor says. “But she doesn’t need to know that.”
Chuckling, I am amazed at my mate’s devious mind. I try not to glance too hard at the village as we head down the paths back toward it. I do not want F’lor to notice anything amiss. I want her to be delighted and surprised by her ding-ding feast…or whatever it is called.
We get near camp, our boots crunching on the pebbled sand. My mate makes a “huh” sound in her throat. “Someone must have brought back a lot of meat. Look at all those cook-fires.”
I grunt, acknowledging I heard her, and pause. “My boot laces are untied. A moment.” I drop to a crouch and pretend to fuss with my boots, adjusting knots and all the while scanning for the pale head of S’brina. When I see her, she gives me a thumbs-up gesture that I am told means good things to humans. The feast is in place, then. Everyone is gathered.
Getting to my feet, I straighten. F’lor is at my side, a relaxed look upon her pretty face. “Are you ready?”
She blinks up at me in surprise. “Ready for what?”
I scoop her into my arms, into what S’brina says is a “bridal carry” and haul her across the sands. S’brina says it will be a romantic gesture and F’lor will love it, so I carry my mate, even though it seems a bit foolish to me. I do not know how carrying another is romantic. Will they not just think she is tired or ill?
But F’lor squeals, laughing with delight as one hand goes to my neck. “What are you doing, I’rec?”
“I am carrying my ride to her ding-ding feast.” I frown to myself as I stride across the sands. “I am sure I said that wrong. Do not tell Leezh.”
She does not respond, and I glance down at my mate to see her eyes are filled with tears. “A wedding feast?” she chokes out. “You remembered?”
“I remember everything you tell me, my F’lordeliza. No one is more important to me than you.”
A hand goes to her mouth and she presses her fingertips to her lips, tears spilling down her face. “This is the best,” she whispers. “Oh, I’rec.”
I smile, pleased at her response. I am even more pleased when we arrive at the main fire and R’ven shakes her music instrument and U’dron bangs his drum.
“Welcome to your wedding feast,” S’brina cries out, bounding over to us. “While we don’t have a lot of your traditional foods, I hope you will enjoy the ice planet versions of lechon, pancit, and three kinds of not-rice for dinner. And afterwards, a treat of hraku halo-halo!”
F’lor makes a high-pitched squeal again. “You dork! You were totally in on this! That’s why you were quizzing me about pinoy foods!”
“Of course! It was all I’rec’s idea, though.” S’brina gives me a smug look. “I just made it happen. He—”
There’s a loud crash at one of the nearby fires. “Shit!” B’shit cries. “One of the rice pots broke! I’m sorry!”
F’lor bursts into fresh tears, burying her face against my chest.
B’shit looks over at us, aghast. “Is it that bad? We still have more not-rice. I just…I hope that’s not bad luck.”
Against my skin, F’lor sobs. “S’good luck,” she manages between bouts of weeping. “Breaking a dish…good luck.” She tucks herself closer to me, as if she is trying to burrow against my skin. “I’m so happy. Thank you, I’rec. This is the best thing that has ever happened to me.”