Page 83

Eden

Wars are won and lost,

for the dignity of choice.

My silk nightdress swishes around my legs as I walk my tray up the stairs, not terribly worried about being seen. The house is finally winding down after a long day, with everyone seeming to need time to think.

Today, things are changing.

My stomach is still in nervous knots of fear and anticipation.

We talked all day—with Arthur and his people, and with Sawyer and Cole.

It’s still too new, far too early to make decisions, and things still feel tense between Red Zone and the Reapers, but.

.. there are options. Thrilling, terrifying possibilities.

And today, while we were cautiously feeling one another out... the civilians were making strides of their own.

Bolstered by Jennifer, dozens of civilians finally crossed the bridge.

To bright, infectious music, they snacked on whatever the Reapers cooked, or brought their own meals from our finally bustling kitchen.

They talked and laughed under the churning clouds—and for their part, the Reapers flocked to the conversation as though they were starved and the attention of the women were a special sort of food.

Whether out of respect or caution, not one of the Reapers attempted to cross to our side of the bridge... and when the meeting broke up and most of the civilians turned in for bed, the Reapers let them go, with food still warm in their hands.

The music outside has fallen silent now, dropping off with the day, but I can still feel the beat of it in me, rippling with joyous energy. Bristlebrook is full of joyous energy... and it makes me as nervous as I am grateful.

I’m glad everyone’s been fed.

I just worry what those meals will cost us.

It’s late now, but I’m too wired to sleep, and my room was too silent for my restless thoughts. And given that the last time I saw Jayk he was organizing the night’s watch, and Jasper and Lucky are nowhere to be found. .. I’ve decided to make up for my missed date.

After shifting the tray to one hand, I knock on the door, and Dom appears a moment later.

He’s only in his black boxers, his hair damp, and my tongue sticks to the roof of my mouth.

His chest is wide and dusted in dark hair that trails down into places I can’t let myself look right now, because I have a very precariously balanced tray, and the sight of him is a dizzy spell waiting to happen.

Shirtless Dom . . . may throw my plans awry.

When he sees me, Dom leans against the doorframe to take me in.

His eyes lift to mine, but he doesn’t say anything, and I bite down against the immediate urge to stammer.

My hair is clean and loose, and I smell so much better than I did at the end of today’s meeting, and he and Beau picked this nightdress out for me all those months ago, so he must think it’s pretty, right?

Which are all simply ridiculous things to be thinking about right now.

After all the serious things we discussed today, thinking about how I might look to him is silly and unimportant and... and it’s so awfully vain.

But he is looking at me, quiet and heatedly intense.

“We.. .” I clear my throat, steeling myself. Brave, Eden. You’re brave. “I missed you this morning.”

And he still doesn’t say anything. He just keeps looming. Considering me.

His eyes are burning over my body.

My inward breath is shaky. “I’m here now, if you have time?”

There’s a shuffling and a loud oof from the room behind him, and his attention breaks.

Briefly, Dom glances at the clock on the wall—and his dark brow lifts in painfully slow increments. “At ten at night?”

The question is dry, pointed, and my cheeks heat in indignance.

“That... that is not why I’m here,” I splutter.

Which is true.

But him being mostly naked isn’t helping my resolve.

And it’s true that my sore nipples are chafing against my dress and my inner muscles ache deliciously. I’m not sure I would turn down an interlude with Dom.

It’s also true that I woke up with three of my brutes in my bed this morning, and while I’m delighted at how they were getting along today—awkward and warm—it does feel wrong that Dom and Beau weren’t a part of it.

I have something I want to feel out—and regretfully, it’s not Dom’s body.

“Is that Eden? Tell her to come back. We’re not ready yet.”

I blink. “Lucky?”

Dom looks me over, his gaze lingering on where my nipples press against my cool dress. He shakes his head, offensively skeptical of my pure-ish intentions, but he steps back and holds the door open for me.

So I walk in.

His room is neat and tidy, though not so tidy as it was the last time I was in here, robbing him of a bazooka with Lucky cheering me on from the doorway.

Now, there are pillows and disheveled blankets tumbling over his large couch, and a haphazard pile of Beau’s clothes teeters beside a TV that is far too large for the space.

And Jayk, Jasper, and Lucky are all lounging around his room, while Beau fiddles with something that may or not be an ancient DVD player. Lucky winks at me, and Jayk’s jaw sets as he takes in my outfit. He looks up at the ceiling with a sigh, right as Jasper gives me a small smile.

What on earth . . .?

“I’d apologize for the mess, but it’s not mine,” Dom says behind me, closing the door.

Unsure what to make of this, I give him a tentatively amused smile over my shoulder. “I know. I lived with him too, remember?”

The TV flickers on, and Beau gets to his feet, giving us both a filthy scowl.

“It’s not mess, it’s lived in . And if someone would give me a few drawers, I wouldn’t have to pile everything on the floor.”

Dom slides him a sardonic look as he opens up one said drawer. He hesitates over his clothes, then snags up a red T-shirt—perfectly folded—and tugs it on, to my crushing disappointment.

Jayk snorts from the armchair, kicking his boots up onto the coffee table, and Beau zeroes in on him, adding, “And if someone hadn’t thrown me out of my room, my things wouldn’t be here at all.”

“Passive aggression, Beaumont,” Jasper murmurs chidingly, and he gets up to lead me around Beau’s discarded clothes with a gentle hand on my back.

Lounging on the floor, Lucky kicks Jayk’s boots off the table, making room for me to place the tray down, and Jayk kicks Lucky back.

Beau huffs at Jasper, muttering under his breath, “And someone should leave our sessions in our sessions.”

“You did ask me to point it out,” Jasper replies tartly.

After dusting a sock off the corner of the coffee table with my foot, I unload the tray, fretting over the three teacups when there’s now six of us here.

I should get more. I might not be able to follow through on my usual ritual with Dom and Beau, or bring up everything I’d planned to with Dom, but we could all have a nice moment together, possibly. A debrief.

Straightening, I run my hands down my nightdress. “I’ll go back down and pick up some more?—”

Jasper kisses me as I turn, with such sharp-edged suddenness that my hands lift in startlement.

.. before I sink against him, my fingers curling in his shirt.

The silk-on-silk press of us is reprehensibly erotic.

The heat of him seeps into me, and I can’t reconcile how gently he holds my jaw with the swift cruelty of his mouth.

“Watch it, sugar. Few more seconds and he might blow,” Jayk drawls, and Lucky lets out a surprised, strangled snort as Jasper breaks the kiss, his head whipping around.

I hold myself still as his nostrils flare—absolutely refusing to let my amusement slip free, because I do have some self-preservation skills.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Beau asks, his gaze flicking between us, and Lucky lies back on the floor, dragging a cushion over his face while his shoulders shake ruthlessly.

It doesn’t do an awful lot to muffle his laughter.

Jayk smirks, and there’s an impish sparkle in his eye I’ve only seen a few times. “Well, that is a funny story. Did you know that Jasper here?—”

“Jaykob, I will fetch that hook and I will fit it inside your asshole. There should be plenty of room in there, considering it’s usually where you keep your head ,” Jasper snaps, but his cheeks are flooded with endearing color.

“Can you fetch your dignity with it?” Jayk’s smirk turns into a grin, and my breath catches at the almost boyish laughter in it.

He’s teasing —and he’s not doing it to be unkind.

Jasper’s eyes narrow, but before he can issue another insult, I touch his arm, and he looks down at me. He kissed me... and he wants to do it again. His expression softens, and he sighs, letting it go with one last disgruntled look at Jayk as he sits down on the couch.

“Why is everyone here?” I ask.

It’s become almost strange to see them all in one place, particularly with my feet on the ground and not dangling over Jayk’s shoulder.

Lucky finally removes the pillow from his face, though he’s still bright with mirth.

“We were just hanging out for a bit, going over some things. You were invited, but you were in the shower.” He sits up, winking at me.

“I suggested holding it in there with you, but I was overruled. We were going to get you in a minute. Beau had an idea, but we need to talk to you first.”

They were spending time with each other? Voluntarily ?

Dom leans against the wall beside Jasper, who nods to me.

“We were just saying that today went well...” He pauses, briefly, sobering. “We wanted your thoughts on accepting the Reapers’ deal. It would mean moving to their farmlands, potentially for quite a while, and?—”

“War,” Dom finishes heavily, his face unreadable.

My amusement vanishes.

Oh. Okay. So soon.

I’d hopedfor more time.

The implications I’ve been pondering for the last week begin to crash in on me. The easy humor in the group subdues further the longer I stare at him.

“Why me?” I ask tentatively. “You all know much better than me whether it’s a fight we can or should take on. I don’t know anything about war.”