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A lovely chuckle rose to meet his. “Drea and I took bets on it.”
“Oh? And who won?”
“We both did,” she said smugly, “because neither of us actually had to drive the thing, and we figured that was a winning situation all on its own. Sometimes we’d joke how, if we ever got broke enough, we could just camp out in the car because it got impounded so often. Aurora’s impound lot was right next to an awesome farmer’s market that would give away some of their baked goods, produce, and meats right before closing if the items were on their way out and couldn’t be sold the next day. Drea had the knack for ingenuity, I had the cooking skills, and we both had an empty freezer most of the time.” She lifted a shoulder. “It would have worked out.”
“I have no doubt about it. You two are very industrious.”
“That we are.”
“Had I known all that, I would have brought you sandwiches or something when I was there. It would have been a far better use of my time than waiting by a decrepit vehicle, hoping I’d get to see you glaring at me through the window one last time before my shift ended.”
The shy smile she blessed him with robbed him of breath. There was so much humbling kindness in her expression that he’d done nothing to deserve, and he had to tear his gaze away. He jerked his head under the guise of shaking off an oncoming sneeze and looked up. Mounted on the wall behind her was an oil-painted canvas that took up the entire width of her bed. A teal-blue backdrop set the stage for a riotous golden sun. Each flame that spawned out from its middle seemed to snake out toward him like the inviting arm of a sensuous dancer. Yellows and oranges swirled in harmony over each peak, blending in much the same way he imagined the real sun to burn.
Memories churned up and rubbed his vocal cords raw. When was the last time he’d ever thought of the sun? Since he and the sentinels enacted the Sealing, locking them all out of the Empyrean and stranding them in the mortal realm, he’d not really recalled the highest realm of heaven’s simulated sun cycles, which were created by the mages to allow for a more comfortable resting place for the souls housed there.
It was a light they’d spent eons trying to get back to and had been, at times, a literal beacon in the dark that all they’d fought for would somehow still be waiting for them when they returned.
When they returned, he mentally reminded himself around a pang of emotion. Not him.
“You should be furious at me, you know,” he said, forcing himself to change the subject.
Molly lifted her chin. “Who says I’m not?”
“Judging by my brothers’ . . . partners,” he said carefully, “when a woman’s angry, it usually comes with a lot more screaming and an occasional projectile thrown in for emphasis.”
“Well, I’m not going to throw anything in here.” She scoffed, then swept an arm around the room, indicating her precious shelved items. “A lot of these cookbooks are first editions, and why would I throw my cast-iron enamel-painted apple spiralizer and peeler at you? Then I’d just have to wash all the parts again after I pick your brain matter out of the corkscrew.”
Brass threw his head back in the first genuine laugh he’d had in ages. The emotion loosened taut muscles, churning up a foreign joviality that had him playing along with her jibes. Indulging in the moment, he dipped his head and folded his arm over his chest in a sketched half-bow. “Your kindness knows no bounds, truly.”
“Yeah, well, don’t go getting used to it or anything.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he said with a wink that brought the most delightful color to her cheeks.
“I run a tight ship. I mean it!”
“Of that, I have no doubt.” He shifted again, opening more of himself up to her so that he could indulge the selfish bastard within and bask in one more moment of her regarding smile.
“Besides, I can’t say for sure that I’m capable of launching something across the— Oh my God, your shirt!”
Brass followed Molly’s shocked gaze to his lower abdomen, where the cause of her horror finally solidified. Substances and stains in every color of the rainbow had been ground into his shirt from the waist up, with a stark line of demarcation signaling where his half-apron had ended and the disaster that was his top half began. Some smears were more identifiable in nature, and others were regrettably less so. All were covered with a fine dusting of ash and mages knew what else.
And damn that woman and her infernal distracting presence, he’d not been made to notice. That was, until he’d foolishly slid closer to her on the bed.
Like a cat, he thought ironically.
Molly leaped off the comforter and flapped her hands in front of him. “I am so so so sorry! It didn’t occur to me that you needed a change of clothes, though why the hell wouldn’t it after you put out a literal dumpster fire? My nose is still so filled with all the smoke odors, I thought it was me.”
“It’s fine. It’s probably a good time for me to head home anyway.” Brass rose to his feet but froze the second dainty fingers brushed against his lower abdominals.
Every single muscle on his body went rigid, and he quickly closed his mouth to conceal the hiss she tore out of him.
“Like hell you’re going home in this,” Molly said as she forced him to tug off his shirt with all the gentleness of a sanding belt. Before he knew what had happened, he was following the back of her head down the hall as she pointed him toward the bathroom while calling over her shoulder, “Do what you need to in there. Anything in a squeeze bottle is fair game. Towels are in the bin below the sink. Sorry they’re pink. I’m just going downstairs to pop this into the washing machine.” Then she walked into the kitchen, grabbed a coffee can from above the stove, and scooped out a handful of quarters while muttering something to herself about, “Eight frickin’ cloves of sliced garlic I could smell, but not that?”
The front door closed before Brass had any time to figure out just how the hell that woman had managed to strip him raw so thoroughly.
And how he was going to hide an erection hard enough to bang out every single dent in the Dodge Dart.
Chapter 15
