Page 17 of The Grim, Me, and The Reaper Makes Three

Wherever this is.Wherever you are.

That was what she wanted to say, but that was just her silly imagination starting to entertain fantasies again. The two of them were a complete unit, a duo, with a foundation that was at least a century deep. “No idea,” she said, before shifting the subject. “But how does running a business work here? You mentioned writing a proposal?”

It was Atticus who responded. “Anyone who wants to run any sort of establishment begins by writing a proposal. When it comes to us, we typically approve it as long as it adheres to theby-laws of the region. Once you gain approval, then we make sure that supplies are provided in a timely manner.”

She thought back to their conversation in the club. “And it’s all free?”

“Yes,” said Atticus. “The system is designed in the hopes that only those who are truly passionate about their vocations will carry on in the Afterworld. Without the promise of financial gain, you would be amazed at how many walk away from entrepreneurial pursuits.”

“I feel like this entire place has too many plot holes to be real,” Tati mused, checking the pies again.

William barked out a laugh. “You are not wrong there, Tink.”

When she saw the brown tint of the crust, she grabbed the oven-mits she’d found and pulled the two steaming pies out. Sliding them onto latticed trivets, she inhaled deeply. Her mouth watered.Perfect.

“You guys want some?”

William nodded eagerly, while Atticus gave a nonchalant shrug. Carefully, she assembled three plates with a slice of each pie, sliding them across the counter to the two men. William tracked down forks and three embroidered napkins.

Tati started with the savory, humming as she bit through the flakey crust and got the perfect combination of creamy gravy, the salty bite of pork sausage, and the lion’s mane and shitake mushroom.Fuck, she loved pie.

She glanced between the two men, trying to gauge their reactions before they voiced them. Based on the way William shimmied his shoulders and nodded emphatically as he chewed, it seemed like a safe bet that he loved what he was eating. But she couldn’t be sure about Atticus. His face betrayed nothing, and she found herself fidgeting as she waited for him to say something.

“This is unreal, Tink,” William said, his words muffled by a mouthful of pie. “The blueberry with the little hint of lemon…we just might have to keep you.”

A smile spread over her face. “I’m glad you like it,” she offered.

Atticus finished chewing, his long neck flexing as he swallowed. He set down his fork, before wiping his mouth and his hands with a napkin. Setting the napkin down, he looked up at her, his expression still severe and unreadable. “Tatiana,” he began, and her stomach sank when the beginnings of a sad smile played on his lips. “We should get back to the business of letting you choose your final resting place.”

Out of the corner of her eye, she caught William’s posture straightening, but she couldn’t look away from Atticus’ unyielding stare. “Oh,” she managed to say, hating how small her voice sounded. “Right. Of course.” Immediately, she busied her hands tidying, cleaning, but she wasn’t sure of where things belonged, andwhat she was supposed to do with all of the food, and was there even a dishwasher?

“Atti,” she heard William growl, his voice missing the warmth she’d come to associate with the man.

Atticus cleared his throat. “Given the nature of our…activities last night,” he continued, “it would be best if we set you up with a different Afterworld consultant.”

Oh god, she thought, embarrassment heating her skin in the worst way possible. This was the kind of rejection that was the stuff of nightmares. Share a magical evening of mind-blowing sex and intimacy in the Afterworld with two men who were hotter than sin and shared an eternal bond…of courseshe wasn’t going to stay. Of course there wasn’t room for her in their version of eternity.

“Oh,” she said, relieved to find her voice had regained its strength.

For a moment something that looked a lot like sadness moved over Atticus’ face. “I wish,” he began, but then shook his head. “It has been lovely to make your acquaintance, Tatiana.”

“You as well,” she replied, her body suddenly cold.Her clothes. Where the fuck was her dress?“Where should I go?”

William pushed up to standing, muttering something under his breath to Atticus before rounding the counter to stand by her. “I will take you back to headquarters,” he said, his expression guarded, but kind. “Would you like to borrow some sweatpants and a shirt?”

She nodded, grateful for the small kindness.

Once she was changed into a soft shirt and sweats that William brought her, she cast one last look around the spacious room. It hit her then that she hadn’t even really been in their home — she’d only seen the common areas. Only seen the smallest glimpse of who they were. It was merely a nibble, in the end. Nowhere near enough to build an eternity on.

“Ready, Tink?” William asked, softly taking her hand in his.

She nodded, and with a flash, they were gone.

They landed in a dark, sterile lobby, complete with black marble pillars and a distant line of desks. Once William made sure that she was steady on her feet, he led them toward the desks. She glanced up at his face, wishing that she could smooth a hand over the furrow between his brows and the clenched muscle of his jaw.

He stopped. “This is where I leave you, Tink.”

She tried to smile, but it was difficult to maintain. “Can I ask you a question?”

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