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Dylan tried to reconcile the two, acting as a mediator when the three of them were together. “Guys…,” he had said at one point, exasperation creeping into his voice, “we’re going to have to spend a lot of time together. You two need to sort out whatever is going on between you, because it’s only going to be worse without Miss Lorene around.”
Alma had doubted things would be worse. If her grandmother hadn’t interfered, then she could have easily finished Finn’s ambition to prove himself better than her. She realized it was dangerous to battle with another elemental, particularly when her abilities weren’t fully formed and available to her, but the idea she was some helpless damsel, being protected by men, galled her. Dylan kept telling Alma when they were alone together his brother really wasn’t that bad; he had a temper, and a slight tendency to speak before he thought, but he was genuinely a good person beneath that. Alma had shrugged off the description, thinking Dylan thought his brother was a good person; they were related, they’d had their whole lives to get to know each other. How the two men—as unalike as any two men could possibly be, with one fire-aligned and the other water oriented—got along so well was a mystery to Alma. One she thought she could happily unravel from a distance.
* * *
“You can’t drive alone,” Finn told her as they arranged to leave. Alma felt anger rising at his authoritative tone. “Even if we’re following along behind you, there’s a possibility someone could knock your car off the road or something worse.” They sat at the kitchen table, the remains of dinner in front of them. While Alma’s grandmother was the best cook she had ever met, Alma was no slouch in the kitchen, and had been prevailed upon to make the meal. Her grandmother pleading fatigue after a long day spent with Dylan in the garden.
“And what exactly would be helpful about having one of you in the car with me if I get knocked off the road? You’re just as likely to end up injured as I am.”
Finn shook his head. “There’s safety in numbers. One of us will ride with you; the other one will take the other car and stay behind. We’ll stop every couple of hours. Besides, we can switch off driving that way.”
Alma set her jaw, trying to think of a way to argue against the plan.
Dylan’s dark, soulful eyes locked on her. “Alma, it’ll give everyone a chance to rest and everyone a chance to drive. It’s a long way to your apartment from here. Plus, just in case we get separated, there will be someone with you.”
Alma knew this was one decision her grandmother was content to let her make for herself. She finally gave in, not because she thought it was a good idea, but because she knew her grandmother would prefer it that way and she was tired of discussing it.
When they were finally taking their leave, Dylan packing away a few cuttings and plants her grandmother had insisted Alma take with her to grow on her balcony.
Alma felt oddly sad to be leaving, despite her increasing frustration and sense of restlessness. “If you found a mate that suited you,” her grandmother whispered in her ear as they hugged in the driveway, “you wouldn’t feel so restless and anxious all the time.”
Alma bit back the irritated retort that rose to her lips, swallowing it down as if it were a pill.
“I won’t remind you of it ever again, granddaughter, but I must say one last thing; Finn is an eligible choice for you. He’s come into his full abilities, after all.”
Alma pulled back from her grandmother, shocked at the suggestion. She would sooner—if she had to pick between the two brothers—pair off with Dylan over Finn, no matter what temptations were offered to the contrary.
Her grandmother’s green eyes glinted with amusement at Alma’s revulsion to being paired with Finn, and the older woman gave her one last hug before turning back toward the house, discreetly dismissing her disdain for him. Alma shook her head in amazement and got into the driver’s seat. Dylan was already settled on the passenger’s side. Finn would follow her onto the highway, and they would make their first stop after two hours, at which point the brothers would switch.
* * *
By the time they arrived at Alma’s apartment complex, all three were exhausted. Alma told both brothers tersely to leave the job of unpacking the two cars until the morning and led them up the stairs to her unit. She had reason to be proud of her living space. It had two floors, having been converted into a sort of inexpensive penthouse by the building management who had wanted to attract a higher caliber of tenant. She had a sprawling master bedroom up a flight of stairs with a small guest bedroom next to it and another bedroom on the first floor next to the kitchen. After giving her unwanted guests a brief tour of where everything was in the apartment, she told them to pick their rooms however they wanted; as long as they didn’t disturb her, she didn’t care.
Alma hoped Dylan would pick the smaller bedroom next to hers. Although she wasn’t attracted to him exactly, she found his presence restful, and she didn’t want to deal with the tension of being in close quarters with Finn any more than she had to. Instead of waiting to hear what the two men would decide, Alma went into her bedroom and made her way directly for the bathroom. She didn’t have her grandmother’s water alignment, but she had always found a good, hot bath to be a therapeutic way to relieve her tensions, no matter what they might be. She started the bath, adding in the essential oils her grandmother had prepared for her and trying to push the arguments she’d had with Finn during the times he’d been in the car with her out of her mind.
It was impossible. The minute she sank into the hot water and closed her eyes, she heard his voice in her head. “It’s no wonder your grandma is worried about you doing something stupid!” he had said when she had wandered away from the two protectors at a rest stop, interested in a cup of coffee and a few minutes of privacy. “Look, you might be a grown-ass woman, but there’s a lot of shit you don’t know about, and until you know, stop acting like such a fucking idiot.” At another point in the drive, when they had been closer to their destination, they had fought once more about, of all things, who would pay for gas. “Jesus, woman, just let me pay. Your grandmother gave me money to help pay for the trip home, and that’s what I’m going to use it for.” At that point, Alma had been so tired and so irritated with the constant presence of the two men for the six-hour drive she had accidentally let her powers get away from her, the wind rising in the vicinity as she bickered with Finn at the pump. “What kind of fool turns down someone paying for them?” Alma had growled at Finn, livid without being sure of exactly why. “I can pay for my own damn gas, and I can take care of my own damned self. Go buy yourself some coffee or something. Christ! Leave me alone for FIVE MINUTES!” she had told him.
Dylan had, predictably, been appeasing by bringing out a cup of coffee for Alma without being prompted or even asking if she wanted it. Somehow, he had caught on to how she liked her caffeine, with just enough milk and sugar to make it palatable. While Finn stormed inside, Dylan was soothing her jangled nerves, mostly by agreeing with her that his brother was an asshole.“He does have good intentions,”Dylan had said mildly, giving Alma a slight smile. “Most of the time, anyway. He just really, really sucks at expressing himself without pissing people off.”Alma had won the argument; she had paid for her own gas and instead of Finn in the passenger seat, she had Dylan, who had been happy to listen to whatever music she played. Finn had—predictably, Alma thought—scoffed at her desire to listen to country classics.“God, this makes me want to kill myself.”He had groaned as Alma pressed play on the second album—more to spite him than because she wanted to listen to anymore. She had barely restrained herself from suggesting it would solve both of their problems if he did.
Alma grumbled to herself as the bath did not relax her. She sat up in the tub, scrubbing herself thoroughly and washing her hair until the dirty, grimy sense she had felt from driving all day was gone. She climbed out and wrapped herself in a towel, using another to rub at her hair as she stepped into her bedroom. She would have to live with the two men, she told herself firmly. If she wanted to shorten the duration of their time living in her house and tracking her every movement, the best idea would be to work on finding a mate. She felt as though she’d been maneuvered into that decision by her grandmother, and she resented that fact. If she really could find someone she wanted to be with, then it would be a double win.
Alma rummaged through her drawers until she found a pair of comfortable pajamas, then worked a comb through her hair, slowly untangling the snarls until she had calmed down as much as she was going to.
There was a knock at her door and Alma took a deep breath, reminding herself to be patient no matter what the situation was and no matter who was knocking. She walked the few steps to her door and marshalled all the patience she had at her disposal before opening it. Finn stood there, looking carefully neutral in a tight fitted polo. Alma raised an eyebrow in silent question.
“Dylan and I flipped a coin to decide who would sleep in the room next to yours,” he said. Clenching his teeth briefly. “I ended up getting the room. I am no happier about it than you are.”
Alma sighed, thinking to herself the day was a complete wash. She stepped back from the door slightly, letting Finn enter if he so chose; he came in and sat at her vanity.
“Do you need extra towels?” Alma asked politely, knowing although the two men were somewhat unwelcome, they were guests—and she had been brought up too properly not to ask, no matter how little she liked it. Alma looked at Finn for a moment as she pondered what more he could possibly have to say. When he wasn’t actively being an asshole, she thought, he wasn’t bad to look at. His eyes were a bright, clear blue, and his jawline was sharp but not too firm unless he clenched his teeth. His cheeks had light brown stubble across them, which lent itself to a slightly rugged look Alma was not immune to.
“We need to go over your schedule, so Dylan and I can cover you properly,” he said.
Alma sat down on the edge of her bed and then thought better of it, her grandmother’s suggestion about Finn’s eligibility as a mate ringing through her mind. She stood quickly, glancing around her room until her eyes fell on the wingback chair she had moved into a corner months before and almost forgotten about. She couldn’t remember why she had gone to the trouble of hauling it up the stairs to her room. The thought that she might need additional seating in her bedroom never crossed her mind.
She sat down, considering the question. She didn’t have a set schedule. She had loose hours, part of the reason she had been so enthusiastic about freelancing. Alma remembered she had left her purse downstairs, with her phone still in it. She hadn’t even considered when she would get back to work formally, so even the need for her alarm had not occurred to her. She thought back to the arrangements she had been working on when the trip to her grandmother’s house had come up. There were a few clients she would need to speak to or meet with, to get information for her assignments.
Alma told Finn the few details she could remember, the potential meetings she would need to travel to the next day. It occurred to her she would have to bring one or the other of the brothers with her for the meetings, and Alma’s dissatisfaction with the situation grew.
