Page 26 of Valkyrie Restored

Or maybe that was just how I felt, and it had nothing to do with the gifts because my chest felt so tight that I struggled to breathe.

“What the hell?”

“Who are you talking to?” Daisy stepped into my workshop with a grin. “You know, they say the first sign of insanity is when you talk to yourself.”

“Really? I always thought it was when you answered yourself.”

“And did you have an answer for your question?” She wiggled her eyebrow as I chuckled.

“If I did, I wouldn’t have needed to ask the question.”

“So no answer then?” She leaned against my worktable.

“Not at all.” I glanced around the room, glad to see that things were clean enough to leave the workshop and head to the house where Daisy and I could gossip. It was obvious that Daisy came for a specific reason since I’d spent a bit of time with her this morning at her store. “Want to head over to the house and grab some tea or something cold?” I took another look at her as I finished putting the moisturizers into a box. “Or maybe something a little stronger?”

“You’re a lifesaver.” She lifted the second full box and carried it to my storage shelves where she added it to the one I’d just placed there.

Inside, I poured us both some fresh lavender lemonade and added in a splash of vodka. I handed her the glass and followed her outside to the deck. “So, what’s up?”

“What makes you think there’s anything up?” she countered.

I raised my eyebrows as I stared her down. “Oh, maybe because I know you. We might have only known each other for a year, but I know you.”

She slumped back into her chair. “Yeah, you do. And there is something, but it’s not bad. Well depending on if it’s true or not. Otherwise it’s just something that I heard today.”

For the life of me, I couldn’t even begin to wonder what she was talking about. If there was gossip happening in the area—and by area I meant anywhere that was with an hour or two drive from here—she was the one who knew it. She was the one I got my own gossip from. So why she was coming here, to see me, I didn’t have the faintest clue.

I took a large drink of my spiked lemonade to gather courage. I couldn’t say why I needed it but like with the other weird things that were happening in my life lately, I heeded the call. “So, what did you hear?”

She chewed on her lower lip and looked extremely uncomfortable. The look scared me. Why did I have the feeling that whatever she said wouldn’t be good for me? “Well, I guess there’s no easy way to ask this, so I’ll just have to spit it out. Are you having an affair with Arran? Because a couple people have said that they’ve seen him leaving your place early in the morning and others are saying that they’ve seen the two of you together and that you seem quite ‘cozy’.” She even did the air quotes when she said cozy. “And with Hurrit away so much lately with their business, people are worried that you’re coming between them.”

Well, fuck. That wasn’t what I thought she was going to say. How did people even see us? We lived on a dead-end street with limited traffic. But then again, I should have expected that people would see and talk. Isn’t that the way of small towns? After all, with some of the gossip I’d heard where people jumped to crazy conclusions, this was nothing. And to some extent, what they said was the truth. Without knowing the ins and outs of Hurrit and Arran’s relationship, I was technically having an affair. Just it wasn’t just with Arran, but Hurrit as well.

I took a gulped down a large mouthful of the spiked lemonade, wishing I’d been heavier handed with the vodka. Anything to give me the courage to tell her the truth. This was one of the things I’d worried about before I gave into my feelings. People would find out and blame me. After all, it was always the outsider who ended up the villain even if it had been them—well Arran—pursuing me.

“Oh fuck. It’s true, isn’t it. You’re sleeping with Arran.” She slumped back in her chair, gripping onto her glass. “You know I love you, Elin. And I know you wouldn’t do anything to hurt someone, but this, this is hard. I’d kill anyone who slept with my hubby. I may bitch and moan about him, but he’s mine and I take my vows seriously.”

“It’s not like that,” I rushed to reassure her. I reached out to touch her arm, but she pulled back. Shit. This really wasn’t good. I couldn’t lose my best friend over this, but at the same time, despite professing to keep it casual, I couldn’t leave them. They’d marked me, claimed me. If I believed in the stuff written about in books, I’d swear that they owned a piece of my soul.

“How can it not be? You’re going to break up their marriage.”

“Not if I’m sleeping with them both and they both know.” Her mouth dropped open. “It’s not an affair. We became friends and they both liked me, so they asked me to be with them. It’s something they’ve done before both together and separately. And”—I took a deep breath—“and I really like them.”

A smile crawled onto her face as she leaned into the table. She swallowed twice before downing her glass. “Are you telling me that you are living every woman’s fantasy and are the filling in their sandwich because god, that’s hot?”

I chuckled, relieved that she was no longer upset with me. As much as I couldn’t walk away from them, I didn’t want to lose my friend over them. “It’s not like that. I’m with both of them separately although we do a lot of non-bedroom activities together.”

“But you can’t tell me that you don’t want to be. I mean, why else be with two men? You’re a living romance novel.”

I spit out my mouthful of lemonade at her words and the wiggly eyebrow thing she did. Of course I wanted to be with the two of them in that way. Many of my dream and shower fantasies were about the two of them, together, worshipping me while touching each other. “Daisy!”

“What? I know you had to be thinking about. Even I’ve dreamt of it.” The expression on her face dropped. No longer was she excited and teasing. Instead she looked solemn and almost fearful. “But what happens in the future? How will this work when you break up?” She reached across the table, taking my hand in hers. “I don’t want to lose my friend.”

“I don’t want to lose you either.” I squeezed her hand. “As to when this ends”—I shrugged—“I don’t know how I’ll survive.”

“Of my gosh. You love them, don’t you?” Her eyes lit up.

How was I was supposed to answer that? Did I love them? How would I know? I didn’t even know if I knew what love was. But I couldn’t imagine it being much different than what I felt for them. I wanted to be with them constantly. It warred with my need for independence, making me excited to see them when they came by, but also hesitant to reach out to them. I missed them dreadfully when they weren’t around and not just for the sex. I missed talking to them, just being in their presence. Just sitting beside them, watching a movie was a better experience than watching it by myself. “Um, I-I think I do.”

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