Whose Bed Have Your Claws Been Under?: A sweet & steamy monster romance (Monsterville, USA Book 3)
Whose Bed Have Your Claws Been Under: Chapter 12

“Time’s up!” Bart called out.

He trotted up onto the deck behind us and shifted his hooves on the decking beside three other staffers I remembered seeing in the dining room.

Poppy stood proudly beside their impressive minotaur snow sculpture.

Bart shot her a grin before waving a front hoof in our direction. “If you’ll kindly step away from your sculptures, our team of staff will study each of them. They’ve agreed to view our sculptures impartially and will decide which is best to award the prize.” He dangled a tall silver bag with a gold bow.

The three clipboard-wielding staffers hurried down the stairs and strode over to us, their gazes fixed on our sculptures.

Bart followed them, trotting over to join Poppy. His arm went around her waist, and I sensed things were getting serious between them. I was happy for them both; everyone deserved happiness.

Monica and Trevor came over to stand with me and Paige.

“Your sculpture is gorgeous,” Monica said with a sigh, shooting their train engine a sad smile. She leaned into Trevor’s side, and his arm went around her, lifting her up. He plunked her on his shoulder, and she latched onto his left horn. “We did a great job. I love the little guy you carved in the window, sweetheart. He’s smiling, and that makes me happy.”

“Your wheels are amazing.” He turned his head, and she curled forward to kiss him.

Paige grinned my way. “We’ve created some stiff competition.” She held up her palm for a high five.

The staff scribbled on their scoresheets, pausing at each sculpture.

Gunner and Rylee’s bear wasn’t half bad, and that was saying something considering I was a sculptor.

Raze and Elisa had hacked away at their dragon, but it looked more like a mound of colored snow with a very short, spiked tail. She kept shooting him confused glances from beneath her lashes, and he wore a perpetual scowl. The fireworks Paige mentioned were going to light up the sky.

Moving past our castle, the judges stopped by Raze and Elisa’s work. They nodded and whispered before checking out Gunner and Rylee’s, and Bart and Poppy’s. After, they returned to the back deck.

“If you’ll all come inside,” one of them called out, releasing a shiver. “We’ll finish tallying our scores and announce the winning team.”

“Yes, come along everyone,” Bart said, taking Poppy’s hand and urging her up onto the deck. “After the prize is awarded, we’ll share Monica and Trevor’s plans for the afternoon and evening.”

“Come on, you two,” Monica said with a smile as Trevor strode past us with her still riding on his shoulder. “I want to sip some cocoa in front of the fireplace I saw in the small living room this morning.” She leaned close to Trevor and whispered. His low, husky chuckle suggested they might seek out a more private fire for their “cocoa”.

“What do you think?” Paige asked, smiling up at me. “Should we get some cocoa and sit in front of the fire too?”

If only our relationship was at a place where I could respond like Trevor, suggest we go make our own fire. Someday? It was my goal.

“Cocoa sounds amazing, as does the fire.” I held the door open for her to enter ahead of me, following her inside.

“I love chocolate,” she said. “In any way, shape, or form.”

“Candy bars?” I asked as we took off our outerwear, handing it to the waiting staff. We heeled off our boots and left them on the rubber mat by the door.

“Oh, definitely.”

We started down the hall.

“How about chocolate cake with lots of gooey chocolate frosting?” I asked.

“Yup.” She shot a grin over her shoulder, her gaze narrowed on my face. “Where are you going with this, Darrow?”

We reached the foyer and paused.

“Ice cream with hot sauce?” I wiggled my eyebrows, and my hair flared out away from my head, responding to the heat building inside me.

She frowned at it, and when she held her hand near, one of the bands coiled around her finger. It latched onto her like I wanted to do.

“Any kind of chocolate.” She tugged her finger away, but instead of backing off, she teased it down the front of my shirt, sliding the tip between two buttons to touch. “Your skin is warm.”

“Sadly, I’m not made of hot chocolate.”

She shot a flushed look up at me. “That doesn’t mean you’re not equally edible.”

Hell, yeah, I was.

Because I couldn’t resist, I whispered by her ear. “Let’s find some chocolate sauce, dribble it on each other, then lick it off.”

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