For the Love of Cupidity: A Valentine’s Day Novella (Heart Hassle Book 4)

I look up at him curiously. “Someone to help me? Who?” I ask curiously.

Instead of answering me, Sylred passes me a robe, and Evert moves so that I can slip it on. Okot helps me to stand, and then they lead me to the front of the room where my friend, Mossie, is playing on the floor with my daughter.

I smile when I see her showing Amorette how to properly water her scalp where her vines and flowers grow.

Spotting me, Mossie stands and claps. “There you are! Just wait to see all the dresses your mates had me pick up. You’re going to look so pretty!”

The guys stay in the front room with Amorette while Mossie and I wander back into my bedroom. I hadn’t noticed before, but there’s a heap of dresses already lying on the bed, along with a row of new silk slippers.

“Okay,” Mossie says, wasting no time. “Let’s get you prettied up to meet the parents, so they can love you as much as I do.”

I strip off my robe as she starts tugging on my first dress choice. “What if they don’t?” I ask nervously.

Her bright green eyes narrow on the white dress, and she immediately yanks it off of me and goes through the pile to select another one. “If they don’t, then screw them. You’re the cupid. You single handedly killed our tyrannical prince with a Love Arrow through the heart. You helped set the realm back to the way it should be, where all fae are considered equal. Because of you, there are no more culling games or prison towers full of innocents. We actually got to have a say in who became our new monarch, and the new king and queen are the best we’ve had in centuries, because of you. You’re an awesome mother, and based on how much your guys are always getting stiff sticks in public, you’re a great mate, too. You are amazing,” she says, yanking on the ties at my back as she fits me into another dress.

“Thanks, Moss,” I say quietly. “Hey, how are things with…what was his name? Turny?”

“Oh, him,” she says dismissively. “I ended things.”

“Another one? That’s like, the fourth dump this month.”

She shrugs. “He wasn’t meeting my needs. Or the needs of my flowers,” she says, running a hand over the sunflowers popping out of her head.

I’m pretty sure I don’t want her to go into detail about that, so I let it drop.

Mossie walks around me, looking me up and down, her lips puckered together in thought. Finally, she shakes her head. “Yellow is not your color,” she says decisively, before yanking it off me.

She sorts through a few more options, muttering to herself about bodice styles, colors, and other crap, until she finally picks up a silvery dress. She pulls it over my head, and I immediately like the fabric. It’s soft and smooth and doesn’t feel heavy like the other options.

When Mossie finishes doing up the ties in the back, she comes around the front to inspect me, and a smile spreads across her green-tinged face. “This is the one.”

“Are you sure?” I ask, running my hands nervously down the front.

I move to walk over the full-length mirror, but she stops me by clamping a hand over my eyes. “Nope. No looking until I’ve done your hair and makeup. Now come on, I’ve got everything already set up in the bathroom.”

She tugs me out of the bedroom and into the bathroom, and I sit down at the vanity, facing away from the mirror.

Mossie sets to work with my hair first, combing it with precision as she winds parts of my pink hair to look like I have a band of roses stretching across the top. She adds crystals into the center and then smooths the rest of my frizzy waves with a lightly-scented oil, curling whatever wayward strands she finds with a small brass cylinder.

When she’s satisfied with that, she starts dusting my face with all types of powders, liners, and color stains.

She even comes at me with scissors and weird copper things that look like some form of medieval tweezers. She starts plucking away at my eyebrows, making me flinch back in surprise.

“Ouch!” I say with a frown.

She doesn’t stop or slow down, though, and starts plucking at me like a chicken. When she yanks out a particularly painful patch, I clamp my hand over my poor eyebrows and smack her hand away. “Okay! Enough! I can’t handle it.”

“Please. You pushed Amorette out of your vagina. Your vagina,” she stresses, as if I somehow forgot my sixteen-hour labor, where all I had for pain relief was some poppleberries and a shot of pixie juice. Pain relief my ass. I felt everything.

“You can handle this,” she assures me, right after smacking my hand away from my forehead and continuing to pluck. “Luckily, you have a lovely natural arch. But it’s all about the clean up. You’ve got to keep up on these things. Don’t think I didn’t notice your chickweeds. I’ll be stopping by to wax those for you.”

I immediately cover my crotch area with my hands. “You come anywhere near my vagina right now, and I will make you fall in love with that guy who liked to snack on his mother’s fingernail clippings.”

She wrinkles her nose in disgust. “Are threats really necessary?”

“When you want to pour hot wax on my girl grotto, then yes, threats are appropriate.”

She rolls her eyes and sets down the tweezers finally, before putting some finishing touches on my eyes and lips. “There,” she says proudly. “All done. You’re gonna dazzle them.”

She helps me stand, and I turn around to face the mirror. My jaw opens in surprise. I don’t even recognize my reflection. Instead of the slouchy hot mess I’ve been lately, I look like more than just a fat pregnant chick who can’t see her feet.

The dress accentuates my curves without making me look bigger. The material hugs my body without it being tight, making it look like I’m not just a big ball of blob. The top of it dips down just barely between my breasts, highlighting my boobs while still somehow being somewhat modest. It ends in a train of soft silvery shimmers that drags behind me, and the sleeves flare out at my wrists.

My pink hair is perfectly coifed, and the rose twirls she’s created make me look like some kind of flower princess. My makeup isn’t too heavy, only being bold at the eyes where she’s lined them in black and added a subtle dusting of shimmer to the lids.

“Mossie, you made me look beautiful,” I say in surprise.

She rolls her eyes. “You’re always beautiful, I just helped polish you up a bit. You look like the best covey mate there’s ever been. Own it.”

When I start to tear up, she reaches up and smacks me on my cheeks. I flinch back, startled, and we blink at each other. “Sorry, I panicked,” she admits. “I didn’t want you to mess up the eye makeup I worked so hard on. No crying.”

I’m too afraid of getting slapped again, so I nod. “Okay. Noted.”

“Sorry, my lady garden has been growing thorns all week. I’ve been a bit on edge.”

I wince on her behalf. “That sounds awful.”

“It is,” she says seriously. She grabs my arm and starts leading me out of the bathroom. “Come on, let’s go make your mates drool. I’m watching Amorette tonight for you.”

“Thanks Moss. She always loves staying with you.”

“That’s because she has excellent taste,” Mossie replies primly.

Reaching the end of the hallway, Mossie stops me and walks in first. I hear her clap. “Okay, cupid mates, pay attention! Your female is ready to make her debut.”

Feeling jittery with nerves, I walk out, and all four of my mates stand up and turn around to face me.

Four sets of eyes lock onto me, and the air charges with intensity.

“…And that’s our cue. Come on, kid.” Mossie picks up Amorette and walks over.

“You look pretty, Mommy.”

I smile and kiss her. “Thank you, baby. Be good for Mossie, okay?”

Amorette nods excitedly. “I will. She’s gonna let me plant new seeds on her head.”

“Oh. That’s nice.”

“See you later,” Mossie says, giving me an air kiss. “Don’t eat too much and then pass out snoring on the restaurant’s floor.”

“That was one time,” I frown.

She shrugs. “People still talk about it.”

No regrets.