Page 67 of Reclaiming Home

Ben snort-laughed and Max snickered.

“I’ll leave you to it. The bathroom across the hall is yours to use. Carys shares the one on this side with Rian, and Brodie and I have our own.”

“That’s great. Thank you,” Ben said again.

I slipped out of the room and went to the top of the stairs. I took in a deep breath, then walked down. It was time to officially meet Brodie’s best friend.

“The movers should get here tomorrow at some point,” Rian was saying when I made it to the living room where they’d relocated.

“Did you pack a lot of your own stuff?” Brodie asked him, then smiled sunnily when he spotted me. “Hey, baby. Come sit with us.”

I went to snuggle against his side in what I had begun to think as “our corner” of the couch. Rian was sprawled along the opposite side, doing a decent stretching cat impression.

“Not that much. I’m obviously keeping my apartment, so there was no need to empty it. Most of what I packed is yours. I basically took the handmade furniture you have and all your clothes and other things and packed those.”

“Except that end table,” Brodie said in a tone that was fond and teasing.

Rian laughed, the sound happy and relaxed, and nothing like I’d expect from the man that had stepped out of the SUV. It was as if all that negative energy that had been in him then had evaporated by finally being here and near Brodie.

“What table?” I asked, then cleared my throat. I felt awkward.

Rian grinned. “There’s this end table he made about five years ago. Driftwood he carved. Glass top. It’s gorgeous, but he’s never wanted to sell it to me.”

Brodie chuckled. “So he stole it.”

“Irelocatedit. There’s a difference,” Rian said haughtily, his eyes still sparkling with amusement.

He was stunning. Kind of cute instead of handsome, and it was hard to think that he was about two hundred years old. His dimples were to die for, and the easy, wide smile that made him shine.

It was hard not to feel jealous, knowing he’d been close to Brodie for years.

Carys walked into the family room with a tray of coffee and cookies. She grinned at Rian.

“It’s really weird to have someone living here who doesn’t need coffee.”

Smiling, he shrugged. “Hey, I still enjoy the taste very occasionally, but it’s not nice to be sipping at something and then spitting it out in polite company.”

“Eww….”

Vampires could technically ingest anything they wanted to, but they’d get horribly sick from anything but blood in any substantial amounts.

“That said,” she continued after her expression of disgust, and sat to my other side. “Is there anything you’d prefer us not to cook in the house?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well I read that sometimes vampires can have triggers just like humans can. If there’s a food that has a scent that might trigger you….”

He blinked at her, clearly not having thought that anyone would ask or even considered any of this as an option.

“Uh….” He thought for a while, his eyes unfocusing. Then his expression changed to one I couldn’t read, and he focused on Carys again. “Root vegetables in large quantities can be a bit tricky if I smell them suddenly.”

She got out her phone and made a note. “Got it! Anything else?”

This time, I could easily read the grief he couldn’t hide. So could Brodie. He leaned forward to grasp Rian’s ankle, the closest part of him in reach.

Giving Brodie a wavery smile, Rian said, “And Jell-O. I… if I never have to see Jell-O in my lifetime, I would be grateful.”

“No Jell-O,” Carys said in that easy tone of hers and added it to the list. “I’ll make sure to add it to the list we have on the fridge door.”

---