“Now, if I’d lost all those family photo albums,” Mr. Laurent prattled on, “I would be weeping over the smolder. A building, though? That I can replace.”
“I’m glad to hear it.” At least one victim was coming out the other side in decent emotional health.
“You’ll also be glad to hear this.” He dusted soot off his shirt. “I had to move your flowers to Lexie and my new place. They were clogging the aisles in the shop, and we couldn’t get the furniture out past them. Our new house has a basement, so I outfitted it with floral coolers so I can work from home on big orders.”
Relief, sharp and sweet, pierced me. Finally. Finally something had gone right.
Guilt. Yup. That was guilt slapping me in the face.
How selfish was I to be grateful my flowers had survived a fire that cost him his livelihood?
“Mr. Laurent,” I rushed out. “I don’t want you to think that’s why I came to talk to you.”
“You’re a sweet girl. I would never assume.” He slid his gaze past me, and he sobered. “I wanted to pass on a scrap of good news to someone in the face of all this. I’m making my peace with losing the old girl, but it’s a lot of work to rebuild. I don’t know that I would try except my grandson has his heart set on inheriting the place.” A spark of amusement flared, somehow brighter than the flames. “He says he’s going to bring his girlfriends upstairs so his mom doesn’t know about them.”
“Hey, we’ve all got to have dreams.” I couldn’t stop myself from hugging him. “Thank you for the news about the flowers. This wedding has been…challenging.”
“Aww, you’re fine, sweetheart.” He chuckled through the embrace. “They’re always stressful for the bride. You’ll feel a hundred pounds lighter after you say I do.”
Given the volume of foods slated to be available at my reception, I would likely feel a hundred pounds heavier after I said I do, but I appreciated the sentiment.
After Linus rescued Mr. Laurent from my watery clutches, we started walking away from the chaos.
“He didn’t ask what brought us down here.” I absorbed the spectacle. “He must be in shock.”
“You own a business not too far from here. He probably assumed you heard about the fire and came running.”
“Yeah. I’m sure you’re right.” I kept my chin up to avoid caving to the desire to cover my nose with my shirt. The smell reminded me too much of the Siege. Burning homes, burning flesh, burning trees. And the screams… Goddess what a nightmare. “I’m seeing connections where there are none.”
“You’re stressed about Volkov and the wedding.”
Something about his tone worried me. “The ceremony, yes. Not what comes after.”
Sure, his tux had gotten ruined. And the tailor had been murdered working on a replacement. Yes, the florist’s shop had burned to the ground, but our flowers had been saved by a stroke of luck. It wasn’t all doom and gloom. As long as the baker and the caterer escaped unscathed, I would still have something to show for the months of hard work.
The mention of my Haints tempted me to drop in on them, but Marit would have my guts for garters if I tried to skirt her temporary work ban.
“Ready to go home?” I had to nip temptation in the bud. “It sounds like we both need a full day’s sleep to survive the festivities.” I gave it a minute before I popped out my bottom lip and put on my most pitiful face. “Will you stay the night with me? The whole night? I could use some cuddle time after this.”
And by cuddle time, I meant begging him to make me popcorn then making out while pretending to watch a movie until bedtime.
The tiniest smile curved the nearest corner of his mouth. “Are you tracking my sleep cycle again?”
“Would I do that?” I fluttered my lashes to do Neely proud. “However, if I had been tracking your cycle, I would have noticed you haven’t been getting adequate rest to keep yourself running optimally.”
Pleasure suffused his face, and it gutted me how often it surprised him that I loved him. He was so used to caring for everyone else, yet he neglected himself. I tended to suffer from the same predispositions, which meant we each dedicated a chunk of our time and energy to ensuring the other one ate, hydrated, and slept enough.
Movies paint romance as a series of grand gestures and shocking revelations, and there are certainly moments that qualify, but true and abiding love, as far as I was concerned, consisted of all those daily reminders to take care of ourselves.
A sandwich or a bottle of water said I love you loud and clear. So did clothes warm from the dryer on cold days, not that we had many of those, but Linus kept a chill that made him grateful for the extra heat. You only got the down-on-one-knee treatment once. You could have BLTs every day.
The fuzzy veil of sleep ripped down the middle as the senses I had honed during the last few years shrieked with alarm. I opened my eyes on a gloomy bedroom, where a shadowy figure was attempting to ease a bag over my head. Adrenaline stepped in for the coffee I hadn’t had yet, and I punched them in the face before I registered who I was feeding a knuckle sandwich.
Oops.
“Lethe?” I groped beside me, but the other side of the bed was empty. “Where is Linus?”
“Here,” Hood growled, and I twisted around to find him obscured by a writhing patch of living darkness.
“What were you thinking?” I shoved Lethe out of my way and rushed to Linus, smoothing my hands down his back. “You’re lucky he didn’t kill you.”
“Yeah.” Hood touched his throat, where a fine red line marred his skin. His shifter healing had already sealed the wound, but the scab remained. “I get that.”
“He never sleeps.” Lethe threw up her hands. “Linus knew this day was coming, so I figured he would play along, and that would be that.”
Except I had asked him to spend the whole night with me, knowing that’s what it took for him to close his eyes and get the rest he kept denying himself.
Oops?
“Linus?” The icy fabric of his tattered wraith’s cloak crunched beneath my fingers. “It’s okay.”
Linus closed his eyes and let me rub the tension from his neck and shoulders. Thirty seconds passed, a minute. Two. The darkness evaporated in increments until he stood in his plain tee and pajama pants.
“I apologize.” He leaned into my touch. “I must have been more exhausted than I realized.”
For him to admit it, to react so violently, he must have been worse off than I estimated. “It’s not your fault. They clearly made a suicide pact.”
“You hit me,” Lethe whined. “Now I’ll have a swollen cheek in your wedding photos.”
“You’ll heal it within the hour, and if you don’t, then I will.” Crisis averted, I finally noticed what she was wearing. Denim overalls, a white tee, and waders. “Um, Farmer Brown called. He wants his clothes back.”
“Don’t worry. I have a set for you in Moby.” She clapped her hands. “Let’s go, let’s go, let’s go.”
I left my hand where it was. “Linus?”
“I’m fine.” Color rode the ridges of his cheekbones. “You can go.”