Page 5 of The Cost of Blood and Bonds

I roll my eyes, but he’s impossible not to laugh at.

“Gemmy.” He presses a hand to his chest, wounded. “What we have is special.”

“What you have is a different woman every week,” I say with a laugh, which ruins the delivery entirely.

Not that I blame them. Fletcher’s easy on the eyes and easier to talk to. Half the women in Terrath have warmed his bed at some point. The other half are waiting their turn.

“And yet.” He leans closer and drops his voice. “You’re the only one I save the last meat pie for.”

I snort. “I’m honored.”

“You should be.” He raises an eyebrow, his lips twitching with amusement. “Do you know how many women would kill to be my favorite?”

I laugh, actually laugh. It feels good after the night I had.

“All right, I’m going to head home. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Good, because I’ve got an easy one lined up for you,” he says. “After tonight, figured you could use it. I’ll fill you in then.”

A voice bellowing from across the room pulls our attention. “I’m telling you, the Thornwick sons got it this year! The Thornwick nobles always make it through the Weeping Woods!”

“Fucking trial season,” Fletcher snorts. “Get some rest, Gemmy. You look like shit.”

“You sure know how to charm a girl, Fletcher.”

He shoots me that boyish grin, then turns back to the bar.

I finish off the meat pie and slide off the stool. The whiskey’s done its job, and the ache in my leg has dulled to a throb.

I push through the door, and the cool night air hits my face, sharp after the bar’s heat.

I’ve barely made it three steps when I hear the door open behind me.

“Leaving without saying hi, Gemma?” His voice is low, rough, and my favorite bad decision.

He closes the distance between us with that unhurried confidence, stopping just close enough that I have to tilt my head back to meet his eyes. His gaze drops to my leg, then back to my face.

“You’re hurt.” His voice tightens.

“You should see the window,” I say, keeping it light.

His jaw works, eyes darkening as they trace the wound. “That was Fletcher’s Davrik job, wasn’t it?”

I don’t answer. I don’t have to.

“I told him to send someone else.”

“Course you did.” A small smile pulls at my mouth before I can stop it.

“Come back to my place. I’ll clean it up properly.”

“Not tonight, Grier.” I flash him a grin.

“Gemma, not like that⁠—”

“It’s always like that.” I give him a knowing look.

For a moment, we just stand there. Close enough that I can feel the heat radiating off him. Close enough to do something stupid. Again.