Page 39 of Not His Bride

It’s never quiet after six a.m. in this house. By the time I get both feet on the kitchen tile, the baby strapped to my chest is chewing on the collar of my shirt, our middle daughter has climbed onto my shoulders, and our five-year-old son has been following me around for the past five minutes with a piece of construction paper.

Lilith is a fixed point in the noise. Perched at the kitchen island, back straight, her hair down over her shoulders, black choker sharp at her throat. Her laptop is open beside a cup of black tea.

Her phone lights up.

She gives it a quick glance. “Tokyo samples shipped.”

That’s it. She sets the phone back down and goes right back to whatever she was typing.

Erik—our oldest—reacts before I can. “Yay, Momma! Maybe we can go to Tokyo to look around a little.” He’s an avid traveler.

I shift our baby daughter, Denali. “Sorry, bud. They’re leaving Tokyo.”

Chances are we will visit the Tokyo supplier soon, but we just had a vacation to Athens two weeks ago, so I don’t want to get Erik too excited.

Velvet Masquerade has grown far beyond the candle company she started at her kitchen table. They sell throw pillows and blankets, artwork, mirrors, curtains, table linens, glasses and decorative trays. But the candles are still Lilith’s favorite. Her company has ten scents now.

Something tugs twice at my jacket. “Dad.”

I glance down. Erik holds the paper to my stomach. A crooked maroon VM takes up most of the page. There are shapes around it that I assume are candles, although one has four legs and possibly teeth.

I lean closer. “Is that for Mom?”

He nods hard enough that his hair falls into his eyes.

“Then you better show her before she gets buried in work again.”

He sprints to the island.

Lilith sees him coming and immediately gives him her full attention. “Hi, honey! What do you have?”

He holds the drawing up with both hands. “I made your company picture.”

She takes the paper from him and studies it seriously, turning it slightly as though there might actually be something to inspect. “You did the logo.”

“Oh, yeah! That’s the word.”

“And these are candles?”

“Yes.”

She points at the thing with four legs. “And this?”

“A wolf.”

“Of course. Every good wolf needs a candle.”

I bite the inside of my cheek.

She catches me doing it and narrows her eyes before turning back to him. “I love it.”

His entire face brightens. “You do?”

“Yes, I do.”

She props the drawing against the side of her laptop.

He stares at it. “You’ll keep it right there?”