MARIGOLD
“We have to hide!” I squeak. I glance around the room, looking for a good spot. “You’re so big. You won’t fit into any hiding space.”
Avery only chuckles as though my father being here is some sort of joke.
“This is no laughing matter! We’re not married yet. What if they’re here to arrest us both? I would have to testify against you. Though I am good at pleading the fifth. I did it a few times today but still! Then what? I’ll get held in contempt and tossed into the slammer. We’ll end up–” He kisses me.
With the mere touch of his mouth, I feel myself begin to calm. He’s like a balm to my overdramatics that I know I can burst into at times. I can’t help it. This always happens when I get myself like this. I just keep going up and up until I am in crazy land. Interesting. Avery and I might be a better fit than I realized. Because if nothing else, that man is just as looney as I am.
“Everything is going to be fine. Calm down. You have nothing to worry about.” Avery runs his hand down my arm in a soothing motion. At least that’s what I think he’s doing until I quickly realize he is rubbing his hand over where my father had grabbed my arm today.
“Remember you gave your word to me about my father’s well-being,” I remind him in case he somehow forgot.
“I gave you my word over that one incident,” Avery points out.
“I think we’ll be okay unless they’re here to arrest us. My father won’t make a scene in front of other people with me.” I roll my eyes. “He’s got a reputation to protect.”
Avery listens to my every word, taking it all in. I’ve given him too much. He’s really not going to be buddy buddy with my father if I don’t stop spilling all this information. But I don’t want him to go into this situation blind. He needs to know what he’s up against.
“If they were here to arrest me, I promise you they wouldn’t be knocking on the door, and I would know if our home was being breached in such a way. He must have come peacefully through the front gate alone. I’m not trying to be rude, little thief, but your dad is like a baby kitten compared to the people I’m used to dealing with.”
“Our home?” Those words are what stuck out to me the most of everything he said. Home. The word seems so foreign to me. When I dropped out of college, I had to leave the dorms. I’ve been bouncing around ever since. God knows the place I grew up in never felt like home. Nowhere ever has. Now Avery is saying I have one.
“Yes, our home, so you can stop stealing things. They belong to you now too.” He reaches into my pocket and pulls out the golden cat I might have snagged when he pressed me against the shelves.
“Habit?”
Avery sets the golden cat back on the shelf. “That comes from the ruins of King Tut.”
My mouth falls open.
“It’s priceless.” He snags a golden ball shaped item off a stand. “This belonged to Queen Nefertiti. She was a big part of the cult of Aten that worshiped the sun as its god.” I take the ball from his hand, realizing it does remind me of the sun. “It reminds me of you. Nefertiti was known for not only her beauty, but many believe she was the goddess of fertility, having given her king six daughters.”
“Six!” That’s a lot of babies to have coming out of you. “I’m not having six babies. No way.”
“That's a discussion for another time.” He plucks the golden ball out of my hand, placing it back on its stand. “Let’s deal with your father. You have a wedding to get ready for.”
“Right.” I swallow then take a deep breath.
“That glumness better be over seeing your father.”
I snap my head up. “It is! He better not ruin this. He ruins everything,” I huff.
“Is that so?” Avery puts his hand on my back and starts to lead me toward the front of the house.
“Maybe we shouldn’t tell him we’re getting married right now,” I suggest.
“You’re terrible at lying,” he reminds me.
“Damn it, maybe you could teach me.” He smirks, shaking his head. I’m not sure if that’s a yes or a no. Guess that’s another one we’ll have to discuss at a later time.
I see my father before he notices us. He’s watching all the people come and go, probably wondering what is going on around here.
“Mr. Sullivan,” Avery says as we draw closer. My father quickly turns his attention away from another giant bundle of flowers being brought through the house.
“Detective Sullivan,” my father corrects him. I want to roll my eyes but somehow contain myself knowing how much it annoys him. I don’t want to poke. I want him out of here as soon as possible.
“This is the man I’m seeing. Surely he doesn’t have to call you Detective Sullivan.” How did he even trace me back here?