Page 47 of My Big Fat Shifter Wedding

“I did for a bit. But it was just like you said.”

“Overwhelming?”

“Overwhelming.” I grimaced. “That’s starting to not sound like a real word.”

She looked up at me. “Did you know that’s called semantic satiation?”

I grinned down at her, because not only was it fun to learn new things, but I loved the way Olivia’s face lit up whenever she got to share knowledge. “No, I did not.”

“Basically, the brain’s neural pathways for that specific idea or word become fatigued, and the brain severs the link between the sound and its meaning for safety. Crazy, right?”

I shook my head, chuckling slightly. “That is absolutely fascinating.”

“What’s so funny about it then?” Olivia asked cautiously and I loved that she trusted me enough to ask rather than assuming I was laughing at her.

“I don’t know if funny is the word as much as delighted. And I find it a bit ironic.”

She tilted her head at me like she always did when she was curious but didn’t quite understand. “Ironic?”

“Yeah. I can wax metaphorical about wood types for hours and think about all the different trade terms I need for a project without ever feeling that, but say overwhelming four times and all of a sudden my brain goes nah, that’s enough. Too much for me.”

She started laughing, and I’d die happy if I could do it watching her laugh. I loved the way the corners of her eyes crinkled, and I could see the stars above us reflected in her merry, amber gaze. I loved the way her cheeks flushed and those perfect lips of hers parted.

“It makes sense in a way. It’s not like you got to where you are with your woodcraft in a week. You’ve been working out your brain with it for years to get to where you are. I’m sure if little baby-boy Keith tried to calculate the proper bevel angle for your canoe or a kitchen hutch, he’d get overwhelmed real fast.”

“Is that our word of the night?”

“Maybe! It’s either that or…” She turned her head and pushed herself up so her lips were at my ear. “More, more, more!”

It was meant to be a joke, and I knew that, but my cock didn’t.

“Walk and talk?” I suggested, for the first time in my life wishing I’d already finished my ice cream.

“Walk and talk,” she agreed, taking my hand and letting me lead her back to my car. I had something even tastier to eat at home.

***

“How do I look?”

“Perfect,” I said out of habit as Olivia studied herself in the compact mirror she’d pulled from her purse. It was a genuine compliment, but she still reached over and playfully joshed my arm.

“Keith! I’m serious!”

“So am I.” I leaned over from the driver’s seat to kiss the top of her head. The scent of her conditioner filled my nose, pomegranate and orange slices mixed with something else I couldn’t identify. “You’re perfect.”

She blushed. “You’re biased.”

“But that doesn’t mean I’m wrong.”

“You’re impossible to argue with.”

“That’s because I’m right.”

She sighed, rolling her eyes, her gaze returning to her compact. After seven months of dating, I knew her well enough that some light teasing wasn’t going to do the trick. It was time to put my serious hat on.

“Olivia, my mother has been looking forward to meeting you for months. You could have shown up in a potato sack, and she would have been thrilled. And, might I add, you definitely don’t look like you’re wearing a potato sack.”

“But she’s so important to you, I don’t wanna…”