“Is that a threat?”
Roman gave her an empty smile. “A promise.”
Something moved behind him, and Blaire startled hard when Asher stood from a rocking chair and approached the railing. He locked his arms against it and dragged his gaze down her body and back to her face. She hadn’t even realized he was there, he’d been so still.
“Blaire Hayward, acquisitions editor for Always Ink Publisher, divorced, and human. Bad match in more ways than one.” He jerked his chin toward the big cabin, ten-ten, where Gentry stayed. “I have no spare love for my brother, but he deserves better than a mate who doesn’t know how to stick around and will get him killed.”
Asher’s words shocked her into a moment of slack-jawed silence.
“One, I’m human, and clearly you aren’t. Great. I have no idea what all that entails, but Gentry doesn’t feel so different from me, so stop being such a prejudiced…Asherhole!”
Roman snorted and repeated, “Asherhole.”
“Furthermore, that sticking around comment? It’s none of your business, but the divorce wasn’t my choice! I didn’t file the papers. What did you want me to do? Never sign them and cling to a man who didn’t want me? Don’t make judgements on things you know nothing about. I was destroyed, and I’m just now finding my way back to myself, and yeah, Gentry has my attention. He makes me feel like…like…me again!” Disproportionately angry, she lost her mind and chucked her car keys at Asher’s face.
Annoyingly, he plucked them out of the air before they hit him, and Blaire regretted her actions. She wished she could stomp to the car and speed away, spraying them both with snow from her tires, but… “I need those back,” she muttered, holding her pink mitten-clad hand up to him. Impatiently, she wiggled her fingers.
Roman was wearing a big, dumb grin as he looked back and forth from Blaire to Asher and back again.
She could’ve sworn she saw the faintest smirk on Asher’s face as he leaned over the railing and settled the keys onto her palm. “I wouldn’t drink at the tavern if I were you.”
“I wouldn’t tell me what to do… if I were you! So…” She was angry and terrible with comebacks, so she tried to flip him off, but her finger only bulged against her pink mitten. Roman laughed harder, and there was a smile on Asher’s face.
Stupid Strikers. They made her want to be unladylike and rude.
Blaire kicked a snow drift away from the door of her car and got in. Sure enough, there was an unwrapped gift on her passenger’s seat. It was a paperback copy of a werewolf erotica book called Bang Me, Fang Me. Her anger evaporated, and Blaire snorted as she studied the cover.
Inside the front flap, there was a handwritten note that was already unfolded and likely read by Nosey Roman.
Trouble,
I can’t answer questions, but I can give you this, another belated birthday present. Everything in it is wrong, but entertaining. I checked the sex scenes and I’m sorry to tell you, but there was no sign of baby gravy. I hope you enjoy the read anyway. Relax. This isn’t for work. Just for fun. I’ll give you the space you need. Call me if you want.
Chaos
His phone number was scribbled at the bottom.
“Are you mushy smiling?” Roman asked from where he was staring into her window with his hands cupped around his face. “I get why he calls you Trouble, but why do you call him Chaos? And what’s baby gravy? Is that some human flirting thing? I’ve never seen this before. It’s gross, but it’s like one of those medical shows where you are repulsed, but at the same time you can’t look away.”
Blaire sighed tiredly and started her car. “Have a good day, Roman,” she gritted out through clenched teeth.
“You broke a chair over my back, Blaire. You owe me answers—”
“I said good day!” She hit the gas and felt a little guilty that part of her wished she would accidently run over Roman’s foot.
She searched Gentry’s house longingly, but he wasn’t there, and his truck wasn’t parked out front anymore either. Okay, that was a good thing. Now she wouldn’t be tempted to turn around and jump back in with him too quickly. Time to herself was essential today. Her hormones would make her forget all the craziness that happened last night, and she would jump his bones when she should really be taking serious consideration whether to stay here any longer.
Oh, she believed Asher and Roman when they talked about how much trouble they were in. Those two men had scared the ever-lovin’ poop out of her last night, and they were allies. Kind of. Well, at least they were family to Gentry. Also kind of because she didn’t understand why they all seemed to hate each other so much. And right about now she was thanking all her lucky stars she was an only child because, apparently, the Strikers healed faster than the average human, but they were still black-and-blue today from wailing on each other.