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I’m growing very fond of them, and have even thought about my heat a couple of times. After the last time, when I spent the week at the clinic in their best room, thanks to an amazing anonymous donor, I mentioned to Trina that I would have to go back on suppressants. Once I scent-matched with Forge and Pierce, I reconsidered that option. Sure, I could go back on them to give us more time, but now I don’t feel like I need that time. Now, I think I’m looking forward to going through this heat with them—as long as it’s something they want.

At dinner tonight, I want to speak with them about it.

I also plan on giving them the little rectangle device that Tiger gave me.

I think there will always be a small part of me that wonders if I can trust someone one hundred percent, because when Tiger was murdered, I thought about the villagers and wondered if they had something to do with it. Doesn’t that mean that I don’t trust them one hundred percent? Or maybe it just means that I’m aware that people aren’t always who you think they are? I’m not sure what the answer is there, but I do know that I trust Pierce and Forge enough to share this with them. I owe it to Tiger to do my best to help solve his murder, and this feels like the right move.

They haven’t made any headway on the case, and last night, I overheard them talking about their boss getting really mad at them because they have nothing to show. Apparently, they were already on his bad side because he demanded I be brought in and the guys refused to do that. They thought they would get in trouble for it, but their Captain let it go and is now demanding other information.

Their boss sounds like a jerk.

I don’t want them getting into trouble over keeping me safe, yet at the same time, I need them to keep me safe. I’m not afraid to admit that I can’t do it myself.

Giving them this device is my way of protecting them too, because maybe it’s the answer they need. Maybe it’s the thing that will satisfy their boss.

After tending the garden, I check the laundry. The dryer has stopped—what an interesting contraption this is—and I fold everything that needs to be folded and hang everything that needs to be hanged.

The guys told me they used to have their clothes dry-cleaned. They tried explaining how it works, but I still can't quite picture it. Apparently, it's a way of cleaning clothes without using water and soap like you normally would. From what I understand, certain clothes used to need that special kind of cleaning, but now they make fabrics that don't wrinkle or shrink as easily, so the guys can just toss everything into the washing machine. At least, I think that's what they meant. I'm still trying to wrap my head around the whole thing.

When the clothes are put away and dinner is in the oven, I cuddle up on the couch with my blanket to watch TV until they come home. I won’t watch scary movies when I’m alone. I tried that once and scared myself to the point of having to call the guys. Pierce came home immediately and stayed with me. I felt so silly and apologized a thousand times, but now we just laugh about it.

I navigate through the app and put on the next episode of Gilmore Girls. I found this show at random and have quickly fallen in love with it. I get through three episodes before the front door opens and in steps Forge and Pierce.

I stand to greet them, giving them each a tight hug. They kiss the top of my head.

That’s our greeting, though I’ll admit, I have thought of doing more—which will be part of our conversation tonight.

“How was your day?” Pierce asks as he takes off his jacket and toes off his shoes.

Forge closes and locks the door, sets the alarm, then does the same with his jacket and shoes.

“It was good. How was yours?” I ask them.

“Just work,” they say in unison, which makes me laugh.

“Dinner smells amazing,” Forge says.

“Roasted chicken, potatoes, and asparagus.”

“Yum,” Pierce says.

We fall into our usual routine—I get dinner sorted while Pierce sets the table and Forge opens a bottle of wine. Tonight, it’s white, because it’ll pair better with the chicken.

I never knew much about wine and what it paired well with, but they’re teaching me. I even have a small glass with dinner now.

I carry the dishes to the table, placing them in the center so we can take what we want, and we all sit to eat.

Somehow, we always find something to chat about that has nothing to do with their work. Tonight is no different. The topic we end up on is holidays.

“What are those?” I ask.

Forge’s brows raise. “You don’t know what holidays are?”

“I mean, I do, but they’re different from mine.”

“You don’t have Halloween? Thanksgiving? Christmas?” Forge asks.

I shake my head.