Page 93 of Rut Bar

“Lucky guess.” Vee braves the spray and puts her hands on my wet body, turning me around and pointing me toward the sliding glass door. “Get inside.”

“Yes, Ma'am.” I pick up my wet suit and hang it on a peg to dry, then go inside and shiver from the blast of air conditioning on my damp skin. I really need to remember to put a towel by the door.

Vee follows me inside without showering the worst of the sand off first, but it’s fine. I need to sweep and mop anyway since I ran in so quickly earlier and tracked sand throughout the house.

Anthony and Brendan are still in bed, and they’ve gravitated to one another in their sleep. They’re complete opposites, but they look good together. Brendan is big and clean cut, his hair graying at the temples. Anthony is lean and tattooed, his face unlined and young.

Vee passes me, looks at them for a bit before smiling and shaking her head, and then she walks into the bathroom. A moment later, the shower starts. I hesitate, unsure if I should follow her or if she wants her space. She still never told me what she wants to eat.

From the pile of dirty laundry in the corner, I grab a towel that’s mostly clean and dry off, then pull on a pair of pajama pants. I sit on the edge of the bed and put a hand on Anthony’s shoulder to shake him awake.

“Anthony.”

“Hmmpf.” He rolls onto his stomach and buries his face in the pillow.

“Anthony,” I repeat, a little louder. Sometimes it takes a few tries.

“Ergh.”

“What’s wrong?” Brendan asks, rolling onto his side. He glances around the nest, then looks at the bathroom. “Her heat broke?”

“Yeah,” I say. “She didn’t tell me what she wants to eat. Should I give her more omega water?”

“Waffles or pancakes,” Brendan answers, pushing the covers aside and sliding from the bed. He stands, and a joint pops. Wincing, he stretches his arms above his head and pops another. “She needs carbs.”

Carbs. Crap. The one thing I don’t keep on hand. “I don’t have either. Should we run to the store?” I glance at the bathroom door and try to remember how long she’s been in there. Girls take a while, right?

“You have fruit?” Brendan asks. He dresses in his gray sweatpants, then claps a hand on my shoulder. “Let’s start there.”

“Fruit. Right. I have fruit. I make smoothies. What kind of fruit?” Most of my smoothie fruit is frozen, but I think I have a few bananas left and those are fresh.

He squeezes my shoulder. “Let’s see what you’ve got to work with.”

ChapterTwenty-Six

VERONICA

My phone is charged,and I wonder which one of them plopped it on a charger when I was out of my mind from my heat. The thoughtful gesture makes me feel things I can’t describe. It’s… nice.

And it’s not only about waking up blissfully well fucked and satisfied. It’s also about being coddled and pampered. When I insisted I was fine to eat at the table, they bundled me onto the plush sofa instead. Brendan tosses a cozy comforter around me, then Jamie brings me food and lots of fluids to rehydrate. Anthony sits down beside me, his fingers untangling my hair. He plays with it while I drink my smoothie.

It’s pleasant. Domestic. Completely foreign.

I’m used to waking up sore between the legs, crusty, in desperate need of a shower, and parched like I’d spent a year in the desert. But this time, I’m good. Fantastic. Still sore, but pleasantly so.

My eyes don’t feel bruised from a restless sleep. I’m still tired from post-heat, but not exhausted. I’m not wrung out and depleted with a thousand things to rush to catch up on. I can sit here and drink my smoothie and simply exist.

When I finish my smoothie and the straw sucks air more than liquid, Anthony pries it from my hands and settles it on the coffee table, then he pulls me against his chest so he can play with the other side of my hair. His fingers rake, gently detangling any snarl he meets until they card freely. My eyes drift shut in contentment.

This is nice, but I should really get up. Get dressed. Get back to work. This has been an enjoyable couple of days, but now it’s time to get back to work.

I tell myself all of this, but my limbs won’t listen. My feet tuck up beside me instead and my eyes slide closed. His fingers untangle the last knot in my hair and massage my scalp. I sigh, releasing the last bit of tension from my body.

“We should get back to work,” I mumble against Anthony’s chest. My limbs are so heavy. Like they’d require way too much energy to move. It’s easier to stay cuddled against him under this blanket and take a nap.

“Or, and hear me out, we play hooky today. Nobody knows your heat broke. Take one more day off with us. You’ve more than earned it. When was the last time you had a day for yourself?” Anthony doesn’t wait for my answer. “Besides, Rut’s still closed. There’s nothing for you to do anyway.”

“It is?” Tension bleeds all of my satisfaction and laziness out of me. “Fuck, I need to check on the repairs.” It shouldn’t have taken this long to get a window fixed and some glass swept up. I probably have ten emails from the insurance company sitting in my inbox.

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