by J P Sayle
He scowled at the phone, wishing he was there to ease some of Ellie’s work pressures and see exactly what was going on with Ellie. It wasn’t like him to get stressed like this. Brody had a moment to worry Ellie no longer wanted to move, before Ellie seemed to read his mind.
“Stop overthinking, Brody. I can all but hear your mind cranking its rusty wheels worrying about something.”
Huffing in exasperation, Brody asked, “How the fuck do you do that? You can’t even see me for God’s sake.”
Laughter filled his ear. “You’re too easy, honey.”
Brody choked. “Stop with the bloody endearments. You know I hate it. Anyway, I rang to say I’ve sorted you a place to rent, you ingrate.” Brody hesitated, thinking of the best way to approach the money situation. “I never thought to ask, but are you gonna be okay to cover the rent until you get your first pay cheque?”
Brody tensed at hearing the slight indrawn breath before it was unsteadily exhaled. He waited, willing Ellie to be honest, because he really didn’t want to push him and possibly embarrass him any further.
“Err, about that. Do you know how much it’ll be? I have a little cash, but if he needs a deposit, thenImayerrneedasub.”
The words ran into each other, making it hard for Brody to interpret straight away what he’d said. Untangling the garbled words, Brody assuaged Ellie’s obvious concern quoting half the cost Greg advised the rent was.
Ellie’s good humour returned with excited squeals of delight. Brody breathed easier as he pulled the phone from his ringing ear. The sense of relief lingered as they talked. He was more than happy to take the hit for a few months to ensure Ellie was okay. He made a mental note to mention to Greg not to let on about the proper cost. The last thing he needed was Ellie to find out.
Brody ambled back to the bed and lay down, listening intently as Ellie caught him up on all the gossip in the office.
His phone peeped, startling him. The distinctive noise reluctantly made him say his goodbyes to Ellie before his phone died. Brody’s eyes widened with shock when he plugged it in to charge. An hour, I’ve been on the phone a whole hour! Shit, where had the time gone?
Seeing as it was almost dinner time, Brody headed back downstairs to mooch for food, making sure to keep his gaze averted from Nick’s closed bedroom door. Well, he almost did. He’d only peeked to see if the door was open. Nick had the habit of leaving his door shut when he was in the room. Brody pondered what Nick was doing in there that required privacy.
He strolled into the kitchen following the scent of roasting meat. He found Aaden at the cooker, twiddling with the pans on the brand-new hob.
“Hey, you wanna hand?” Brody asked, stepping closer to look at what was in the pans. He hummed in pleasure seeing a medley of mixed vegetables. “We having a roast tonight?”
“Yeah. Greg was a little miffed we didn’t have it last night, so he messaged me to ask if I’d make it tonight. His text said he was in need of it, but the story was too long-winded to explain. I have a feeling this might have something to do with Christina’s first day at a real job.” As Aaden’s bold laugh burst out, Brody grinned alongside him.
Unable to resist taunting his friend, Brody eyed the pots. Raising his brow, he asked, tongue-in-cheek, “When did you become the little woman?”
He jumped back, laughing. Aaden’s deadly glare hit its target, even as his meaty fist barely missed Brody’s shoulder. “Fuck you, man. I’m happy to do what I can to make my man happy. I can’t say you’re doing the same for yours.”
Brody’s humour took a nosedive when Aaden’s face turned serious.
“I don’t want to butt in.”
“Yeah, but you’re going to anyway,” Brody interjected.
“Shut up, will you, and listen. Why are you still pussyfooting around? This isn’t like you. What happened to gung-ho Brody who dove in with both feet. You, my friend, need to find a way to figure this thing out between the two of you. Half the time it feels like the house has one of those old bombs sitting under it. We’re all waiting to get blown up because you’re either fighting, or worse, lusting after each other. Fuck, it’s exhausting watching the pair of you. As I said, man, stop pussyfooting and do something to get rid of the tension.”
Aaden distractedly stirred the bubbling pot, not taking his eyes off his best friend. He’d expected to see some uncertainty when he’d spoken the truth, but the deep-bone dread, that was another matter.
Aaden opened his mind and did what Greg was dead set against him doing, and read Brody’s thoughts. He eased out the moment Brody felt his presence. Brody gave him a startled look, and he clamped his lips together to stop the smile from escaping.
He pretended to be preoccupied with his cooking, but all Aaden could think was Brody was fucked. His lips twitched at the state of his friend’s mind. He was tied up in so many love knots even a Shabari expert wouldn’t know where to start to unravel them. Which he supposed was why he and Nick were dancing around each other. Aaden considered the feel of the spell that lingered in Brody’s mind. It was clearly broken, but he wondered if the remnants left behind were causing some sort of block to accepting what they felt for each other was real.
Aaden acknowledged his own previous problems with Greg when Max tutted none too quietly inside his head.
Max sat on his plush cushion in the corner of the kitchen, alone, waiting for Aaden to justify his snooping.
“Yeah, okay, I read his mind. But Brody’s not the only one going through this crap. Nick’s my brother, Max. And I can’t stand around and do nothing. That’s worked so well for us up to now, hasn’t it?”
Aaden’s sarcasm rolled off Max’s back as he let Aaden spit out what was bothering him.
“We got them together, living in the same place by my planting the idea of working together. And you worked hard to encourage Brody to resign. And yeah, it worked really well. But then why do I feel like something is missing? That we’ve missed something important?”
Aaden stirred the pot again. A sliver of guilt poked at his good intentions when he’d read Brody’s thoughts about Nick’s and his joint declaration of love for each other. It begged the question. Why hadn’t they taken the final step and… Aaden pushed his mind from thoughts of how a soulmate bond was formed irrevocably.
He ignored Max’s chuffing when he sensed where his head had gone.
Aaden stated the obvious to Max while trying to work through the problem. “They’ve declared their feelings for each other. Yet it’s like the words were just that: words and with no meaning or feeling behind them. I do get a sense their feelings are real behind the sentiment. But I’m not convinced either is fully on board with the soulmates thingy.” A shiver raced over Aaden’s neck when he thought of the consequences of ignoring such a bond.
He rubbed at the ache the past brought to his chest when Max finally responded.
“The spell is broken, but you have to remember they were but children when Christina cast it. The effects changed Brody’s perceptions of what he wanted and of Nick.” Max sighed at the damage her greediness had caused before continuing, “Think about it. Christina didn’t even consider that she’d left Nick with the burden of carrying all the feelings of love on his own. Nick’s been hiding who he is and what he wanted for years, not to cause any hurt to you or Brody. Hell, add in Nick’s knowledge of soulmate connections after everything that has happened to you and his newfound friends. You’d have to consider he’s questioning why Brody didn’t somehow feel their soulmate bond even with the spell. He now knows there is nothing in the universe, including Christina’s spell, that can remove a soulmate bond.”
Max dwelled on the torment Nick must have surely endured and was possibly still struggling with. The anger Princess continued to express about Christina’s deception somehow seemed more real now as he spelled it out to Aaden.
At hearing the sound of a frustrated voice, a sliver of humour returned when he noticed Brody standing only a few feet away from Aaden, ta
lking.
“Let’s leave this for now. Brody is clueing in to your lack of response.”
Max hissed, slipping from Aaden’s mind, when he let out a loud curse.
“Are you listening to me?” Brody asked, frustration making him sound snappy when Aaden continued to watch the boiling pan.
“I was waiting for you to stop bitchin, so I could get a word in edgeways,” Aaden murmured. He was at a total loss to what Brody was saying. He floundered. Hoping against hope, Brody wasn’t going to quiz him.
Aaden glanced over his shoulder as he heard feet thundering down the stairs, and released a silent thank you to whoever in the universe was looking out for him.
Brody braced at the noise coming from the hall. He played at being disinterested, leaning against the countertop. Forgetting his aggravation towards Aaden, he looked for a safe topic to talk about.
He didn’t think mentioning the shithead had zoned out on him was the best idea. He’d probably had some silent conversation with Max, which was the norm for them, it appeared. He glanced across the room to Max’s large bed. He hated the idea that Max was probably able to read his thoughts as well as Aaden’s. He quickly looked away from the smug feline lip curl Max offered in answer to his silent question.
Nope, I’m not going there.
Brody thrust his hands into his jean pockets. Unable to stand still, he walked to the centre island and perched on one of the new black leather seats, acknowledging he didn’t like the idea Aaden and Max might have been discussing him and Nick and their problems.
Brody idly fiddled with the cutlery laid out in front of him, doing his best not to stare at Nick when he strolled into the room. Brody failed miserably when he was besieged by the warm fragrant smell of Nick’s herbal-scented body wash. It seemed to lay claim to all the air in the room, making it impossible for Brody to take a decent breath without tasting Nick’s scent.
He noticed the low-slung jeans clung precariously to Nick’s slim hips, while the washed-out navy T-shirt sat a few inches shy of the waistband of his jean and revealed just the barest hint of pink satin.
Brody’s pulse fluttered at the base of his neck like the wings of a hummingbird. It beat against his skin so fast he wondered if anyone would notice if they looked close enough. He felt the sharp edge of the knife he held dig into his palm, forcing him to relax his fingers. He wanted Nick’s jeans to ride a little lower so he could get a good glimpse of what he was wearing underneath.
Brody knew damn well the fucker was teasing him. He couldn’t find it in him to care right at that moment, not with all the possibilities floating around his head.
Thoughts slid straight out of his head when the overhead light caught the luminous blond strands of Nick’s freshly washed hair, creating a halo effect around his face. The result was stunning. The glow illuminated his soft features and made Brody wish he could dive into the cerulean of his eyes and drown in their depth.
He shifted when his body awakened to the idea of being inside any part of Nick. Nerve endings that seconds ago weren’t interested in anything now tortured him with little constant sparks firing under his skin. Feeling itchy and out of sorts, he watched from under lowered lids.
Nick’s firm backside swayed as he walked to the tall chrome fridge tucked in the corner of the kitchen. Brody assumed it was to grab a drink. And possibly torture him some more, when Nick stretched up to the top shelf of the open fridge, causing his top ride up higher, revealing a large portion of peachy flesh. He released a quiet moan.
As he saw the flash of mischief in Nick’s eyes when he turned his head towards Brody, he gulped and struggled to respond when he asked, “Any takers?”
He barely managed to pull his scattered thoughts together and shake his head after Aaden advised Nick of his choice. He knew damn well the fucker was asking about more than a drink. The teasing tone brought an ache to Brody’s jaw as he clenched his teeth.
His eyes riveted to Nick’s swaying hips, Brody forced his hands to stay put on the counter when Nick sat next to him, offering a shit-eating grin. The tempting smile confirmed Brody’s previous thoughts about Nick tormenting him.
“How long till dinner? I can finish off a few things if it’s going to be a while.”
Brody noted the sultry voice Nick used to ask the question caused Aaden to fire him a puzzled glance over his shoulder before he answered.
“About five minutes. Greg should be here any minute.”
Brody wasn’t listening to Aaden; he was too busy trying to figure out what Nick’s game was. It was almost like he was punishing Brody for something. The sultry voice, the underwear peeking out, and then the tight-fitting, low-slung jeans, yeah, he was definitely trying to make a point.
But why?
Nick was the one who never took him up on his offer last night. Hadn’t he tried to convey with the soft kiss he wanted Nick to follow him?
So what was the problem?
The front door slammed, and a loud shout dragged Brody away from his worries.
Greg stormed into the kitchen, swearing up a storm. “That sinking arse, bitch bag, fucking witchy poo. I’m gonna strangle her with my bare fucking hands. Then… I’m… gonna bury her in the backyard, arse up, and use her as a parking spot for my bike.” The angry tirade stopped under the raucous laughter that spilt out, filling the room.
But it was Aaden asking Greg if he even had a bike to park and Greg’s quick response of “I’ll buy one” that made Brody howl with laughter.
Somehow or other, Greg’s angry tirade allowed the strain he’d felt release. He relaxed back against the black leather seat when he managed to control the laughter.
He wiped away the tears and gave a tentative smile to Nick, who was still giggling next to him. The easy way in which Nick laid his hand on top of Brody’s made his heart ache for them always to be this at ease with each other.
When Aaden set out sorting and plating the meal, Brody offered up a silent prayer Nick would be as amenable after dinner.
Christina
Eyes cast down to avoid being pleasant to anyone, Christina limped through the hotel front doors. Silently she cursed up a storm, glancing warily at the gorgeous red Louboutin’s she’d bought as a treat. A treat, her arse, they were more like a Halloween trick.
Who knew that the designer was actually a fucking sadist in disguise!
She didn’t, that was for sure. Who in their right mind would spend a fortune on contraptions to torture their feet like this?
She ignored Morgana’s chuffing at her doing exactly that.
A fortune, she reminded herself, that she could ill afford to waste if she was stuck here indefinitely. Her lower lip plumped as she gnawed it between her teeth. The thought of wasting a fortune brought on a spine-tingling shiver. She knew without a shadow of a doubt the shoes were headed straight for the bin the minute she got back to her room.
She cussed with every painful step. Her once tame vocabulary was now more suited to a sailor with the number of profanities she let loose. The majority were aimed directly at the culprit who had her body begging for sweet mercy. Greg. She was convinced the little shit had given her every job that required her to stand for hours. She should’ve heeded the warning light she’d seen flashing in his sky blue eyes last night. But had she? No. Caught up in the excitement of doing something instead of sitting bored in her hotel room, she’d waltzed into the office like a lamb to the slaughter.
She grumbled under her breath as every muscle in her body rebelled. The confidence she’d felt this morning when she’d dressed in her beautiful fitted navy suit and red high heels was annihilated with every step. Pain radiated down her back, into her legs and feet. She let out a mournful sigh, and her shoulders drooped so that her handbag slid down her arm and onto the floor with a loud clatter.
Her eyes welled with tears as she choked back a sob when the contents scattered over the white marble floor of the foyer. Red lips pursed as she willed the scream of frustration building inside her
to stay put. The last thing she needed was to be turfed out of the hotel for deciding to use the lobby as a sounding board for her screams.
Why me? Hey, I ask you, why me?
All I want is a hot bath and to throw these godawful shoes into the bin.
Hiking the navy form-fitted skirt up several inches, she crouched, pretending not to notice the several interested stares she received from the male patrons hovering around the lobby. She didn’t need that kind of trouble on top of everything else.
She’d noticed modern-day men made no bones about letting a woman know they were interested. And yes, she would normally be fascinated; it was exciting after living for centuries where women’s sexual vitality was kept hidden, just in case you insulted a man’s virility. She enjoyed this newfound freedom, but just not today. Not when all she wanted to do was blubber all over the place. That, she was sure, was not conducive to attracting the opposite sex.
Lost in her despair, she didn’t see Gill’s approach. The bouncy, round-faced, chubby receptionist was the last person she wanted to see when she looked up. The receptionist’s grinning face was more than she could bear. She hadn’t forgotten how she’d bragged to Gill the previous evening about the job she’d been offered. Her excitement had got the better of her when she’d gone to retrieve her room key. Mix in Gill’s friendly nature, and it had ensured she’d spilt her guts faster than a fisherman could gut a fish.
The fact that Gill had laughed at her giddy excitement should have been warning enough. That no job was as great as it first seemed now came back to haunt her. Plastering what she hoped would pass as a smile rather than a grimace to her face, she waved her hand to indicate she was fine. Gill didn’t take the hint and crouched next to her, helping her pick up the loose items.
Christina hoped Gill wouldn’t ask about how her first day had gone.
“So come on, tell me, did the job live up to your expectations?”
The laughing question and quirked brow were enough to get Christina’s back up, knowing she couldn’t escape her fate. Her lip curled up in mock humour while her mind frantically tried to think of something positive to say. Coming up blank, Christina averted her gaze. Coughing back the next sob that rose, she lied through her teeth. She cringed when her voice trembled with tears, but she wittered on about how wonderful it had been. She was grateful when she placed the last of her things into the red leather tote bag. Hurrying, she stood up, forgetting her stiff muscles, and whimpered in agony.