Page 84 of Moonlit Thorns

She gives me a sad, hopeful smile. I take her hand and thread her fingers through mine.

“If I hadn’t heard that music, we might not be here like this now,” she says into my ear.

Maybe my mother is trying to give me a sign that I’m on the right path. A piece of me hates the hope that thought gives me. But maybe that’s just what’s left of my father, and I need to let it go. Maybe it’s time to do things differently.

Chapter

Thirty-Five

ANABELLE

Ever since the night Asher punched Galen at the bar, we’ve been sharing a bed. He slipped into my bed sometime in the middle of the night that night, and we’ve been sleeping in his room every night since then.

Last night after we returned from the symphony was no exception. Usually after we wake up and fool around, I’ll retreat to my bedroom to get ready for the day and meet him in the office later on. This morning though, he surprises me when—despite the fact we wake up late because we got in so late—he tugs me back to his chest when I roll over to get out of bed and start to get ready.

“You’re not going anywhere,” he says into the crook of my neck.

I laugh. “We’re already behind. You’ve missed your swim, and I have to start getting ready.”

“You’re coming to breakfast with me this morning.” He kisses the back of my head and hops out of bed to make his way to the ensuite.

“Okay, let me get dressed, then we can figure out which restaurant you want to go to,” I call out behind him.

“No restaurant.”

I sit up in bed and watch as he makes his way to a dresser and pulls out a T-shirt.

“I’m confused,” I say.

“We’re going to eat in the dining room with my brothers. I want them to get to know you better.”

My eyes widen, but there’s a giddy feeling in my stomach. “Well then I definitely need to go make myself presentable.”

He pulls the T-shirt on over his head and goes into the closet. “Nope. You just need to put this on.” He comes out with my robe and walks over to the bed. “Here.”

“Asher, I cannot go have breakfast like this.” I motion to the tank and booty shorts I wore to bed last night.

He shrugs. “Why not? I am.”

My head tilts. “Because I’ve never really met them before, at least not since we were…whatever we are. I’ll feel like an idiot.”

He leans over on the mattress and presses a kiss to the corner of my eyebrow. “It doesn’t matter what they think. I’m doing it as a courtesy to them. Now put that on, and let’s go.”

His voice changes on the last sentence as he shifts more into his dominant persona. It’s subtle, but I can always tell. And like always, it makes me want to do what he says.

I scoot to the edge of the bed and slide down so my feet hit the floor. I pull the robe on, tying it at my waist. “Can I at least brush my hair or something?”

“No.” He places a chaste kiss on my mouth, then takes my hand and leads me from the room.

At least I still have my hair elastic on my wrist, so I pull my hair up into a messy bun. It’s not much, but it’s better than bed head, I guess.

As I step inside the dining room and all three brothers stop what they’re doing and turn to stare at the two of us, I’m so nervous. Especially because last week, I literally saw a couple of these men fornicating with women in front of me. Asher holds my hand at the far end of the table, glaring at his brothers.

Nero, who I know from Asher is the youngest of them at thirty years old, pushes away from the table and makes his way over to us. He has the same deep blue eyes as Asher, but he keeps his hair shorter on the sides.

“Hi, Anabelle,. I don’t think we’ve been properly introduced yet. I’m Nero.” He holds out his hand, and I take it, relaxing a bit when he gives me a warm smile.

“It’s nice to meet you, Nero.”

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