Page 135 of Rules to Love By

“You ready, then?” Ozzy asked Tris.

“Home?”

Ozzy kissed his nose.

“Will you sleep over?”

His only reply was a low growl, and they quickly disappeared, truck doors slamming, engine revving.

Eli hooked an arm over Marcus’s shoulders and kissed his temple. “Let’s go home, yeah?”

CHAPTERTWENTY-SEVEN

It was well past full dark when they arrived back in Griffon’s Elbow. Both the barbershop and the B and B were dark, but the porch light over the B and B’s side door snapped on when Eli pulled his truck down the alley next to it.

“Guess Kreed and Lucky have been waiting.” Marcus tried not to heave a sigh. He’d sort of hoped they’d be able to sneak in without a fuss. As soon as they were inside, a light over the pass-through counter popped on and the door closed and locked itself behind them.

Sitting on the counter was a picnic basket that Kreed used when guests asked for food in their rooms. A note was tied to the handle with a bit of twine.

Eat something, have a drink, get some sleep. Talk over coffee in the morning. Love, Lucky and Kreed

Marcus lifted the lid enough to peek inside. Kreed had assembled enough food—cheese, crackers, pickles and fruit—for two, plus two plates and two wineglasses, a halfway decent bottle of red wine, and ice packs to keep everything cold.

“It’s like they know us,” Eli whispered.

Marcus grunted as he lifted the basket.

The minute it cleared the counter, the light at the bottom of the stairs came on, then the one halfway up.

“Never gets less creepy, does it?” Marcus asked.

“Let’s just do what she says.” Eli followed the lights to the top of the stairs and grinned at Marcus when the door to the Green Room swung open on silent hinges.

Marcus hefted the basket up the stairs. “She’s not even subtle.” But he wasn’t mad about the idea of not sneaking Eli into his small suite, past Lucky and Kreed’s bedroom.

The door closed just as quietly behind them as the bedside lights came on.

“Put that over there.” Eli pointed to the small round table under the window. “Then come here.”

“Bossy,” Marcus muttered even as he hurried to comply.

“Don’t pretend you don’t love it.”

A smile stretched Marcus’s lips, making him aware how little he’d used the expression the past few days. He kept his back to Eli as he looked out the window, through the oak boughs, fluttery with new leaves, into the street below.

“Are you okay?” Eli asked. He set the fat envelope on the table next to the basket and put a hand on Marcus’s shoulder.

“I’m fine.” He was. His insides pulled tight, wound up and knotted, but after the day they’d had, he expected the familiar sensation. How often had his guts twisted into origami every time he had to deal with Johnathan without his aunt there to referee?

“Tell me what you need.”

“No, it’s fine.” He slithered out from under Eli’s hand and crossed the room. “I’m fine.”

“You’re a wound spring.”

“Don’t tell me how I feel.”

“I’m telling you what I feel when I touch you,” Eli said, his voice annoyingly level. “You’re coiled so tight.”

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