Taurus by Eris Adderly

These two were a walking relapse, ready to happen.
Garrin Torres will never be Guild Master of his local Taurus Hall. They can send however many politely worded nomination letters they want.

He has a piercing parlor to run and a quiet, comfortable life that took him years to build to his satisfaction. Any further disruptions can see themselves right out the door because he is Not. Having. It.
And when—wait. He said, “Out the door.” Out.
Who are these people coming in now?
She’s pretty hot, but her partner is clearly angling for a five-finger discount.
Does today look like Garrin’s first day to Goth Bonnie and Clyde, here?
He said, “No disruptions.” Are the planets not listening??

…

God, these two smell good.