57

T he three started and didn’t stop after that point. Koen told me all about the wendigo they tracked down and disposed of as they devoured dinner, speaking in tiny bursts of conversation but never directly talking about the issue. The tension in the room over what had happened between them was palpable as I cleared the table and started to do the dishes. The sink was full as I wandered into the kitchen, ready for me and perfectly warm.

“Thank you,” I whispered, trying to remind the Manor that I was still aware of our arrangement even as my heart was pulled in different directions. The Manor provides; and it had proven so with warm soapy water that overflowed with bubbles.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Clay chuckled and rolled his sleeves over his forearms. “Shoo.” He waved into the sink, catching bubbles in his fingers and spraying them in my direction.

“I can do the dishes, Clay.”

“Aye,” he grumbled, “but you aren’t going to. I think you’ve done enough around here for a long while. Let me .”

I dried my hands on the towel and leaned against the counter to watch him scrub each plate clean, one by one, his focus on the soapy water. The muscles in his jaw tightened and I could tell he was distracting himself from asking me a tricky question.

“Out with it then,” I said finally as he stacked the last dish.

He cast those gray eyes on me and chuckled, drying his hands on the towel. “You’re too perceptive.”

“Or you’re just not good at hiding what’s on your mind?” I challenged him.

“Perhaps a bit of both?” He huffed. “I don’t think the awkwardness between Koen and Wesley will be solved anytime soon but seeing the two of you without your weapons drawn is nice.”

The weapons were still very much drawn.

“Don’t get too enthused. I’m sure he’s still sniffing for reasons to prove us all wrong.”

“He can sniff all he wants, he can barely get himself down the hall and he won’t be doing anything anytime soon. Besides, you saved his life, he’s in debt now.”

“I’m not sure he sees it that way,” I said.

“He does.” Clay seemed sure. He reached out and brushed his fingers over my chin with a wink. “Now.” He offered the crook of his elbow to me. “Let’s get you upstairs. I’m sure Koen has started to chew the furniture.”

I giggled and wrapped my hand around his arm, letting him lead me through the house and up the stairs. “Are you alright?” He asked as my fingers curled into his skin.

I killed a man…a monster. I was far from alright.

“Of course,” I lied, and he opened the door to the bedroom for me.

Koen had piled the four-poster bed with bags and a few boxes which made my heart thump wildly. As we entered the bedroom he looked pretty proud of himself and Clay closed the door behind us. The leading light from the window was quickly fading but the fireplace on the main wall was roaring and the two sconces on the far wall were lit.

“What’s all this?” I asked, unlinking myself from Clay to inspect further.

“Go on and look,” Clay whispered, his chest pressed to my back.

I started with one of the bags, pulling out a bundle of clothing far from the everyday skirts and corsets. My brows furrowed at the sight of the T-shirts and sweaters and I was confused about why they would do such a thing for me.

“We thought it was about time you got to upgrade your wardrobe!” Koen smiled ear to ear with the brightest look in his playful green eyes. “So we bought you some of everything. You can try it all on and figure out what you like and don't like…” He trailed off when Clay cleared his throat.

“Florence?” Clay wrapped his arms around me from behind and rested his chin on my shoulder. “You don’t have to do anything. It was a gesture. We can return it all; just say the word.”

“No.” I swallowed the overwhelming nerves that rose in my throat and turned to smile at Koen. “This is just–” I chewed on my lower lip, “It’s an odd feeling to be thought about in this manner.”

“It’s about time you’re thought of in every manner.” Koen didn’t hesitate to counter my statement.

“Alright then.” He clapped his hands and looked around the room, moving toward one of the two sitting chairs before angling them away from the fireplace toward the bed.

He plopped down in it and smiled at me.

“Oh, you want me to do it now?” I laughed. “Ulterior motives.”

“Yes!” Koen cheered at the same time as Clay responded, “if you feel so inclined,” in my ear.

Clay released me. “I picked the room with the dressing shade,” he noted. It was easier now that both of them saw the Manor for what it could be. Beautiful and rich with life. I wasn’t sure Wesley would ever get to that point but it made Clay and Koen more comfortable with each passing day.

“We aren’t complete hooligans.”

I shook my head. “ Unbelievable .”

“ You are,” Clay whispered over my shoulder before stepping back.

“Help a lady,” I said, reaching out to him as heat licked my cheeks.

The corset I wore that morning was laced and, while I could just as easily undo it myself, I wasn’t quite ready for Clay to stray too far from me. All of the clothing on the bed was daunting and I wasn’t even sure where to start.

“I’ve never worn a pair of trousers.” I noticed a pair of them lying across the bed. Women did not commonly wear pants of any kind in my day and, when they did, they were typically worn underneath shorter dresses for ease of traveling–and none of them had ever looked like these.

Regardless, Lord Cabot had hated the things, always preaching what a woman should or shouldn’t wear. I was stunned to realize that I had never truly chosen clothing for myself, even here in the Manor I still wore garments that I had been given… I sighed and looked down at all the clothing they had offered me. All the choices.

“Much more comfortable than skirts and corsets.” Clay’s fingers worked at the laces, pausing only to kiss the back of my neck before he stepped away. “The floor is all yours; try these,” he said, handing me a soft-feeling shirt and a pair of brown corduroy pants.

I stepped behind the shade, stared at the clothing, and smiled at the fabric. The feeling that flooded my chest was overwhelming but joyful as I shucked from my skirts and chemise.

“Gentleman…” I peeked out from behind the shade, “what exactly am I to wear beneath the trousers?” I was sure I didn't have the proper undergarments for such a thing. “Do I just…”

Koen laughed, “Hold on!”

He sprung from his chair beside Clay, who had settled down and disposed of his glasses on a nearby table but was staring at me with a soft smile that said, let him get through this . Koen rifled through a bag and pulled out a black box, bringing it toward me.

“I picked them out for you.” He winked. As soon as I had them in my hand he backed away, turning only to ask, “do you need help with those, too?”

“I think I can manage.” I laughed and lifted the lid to find a bundle wrapped in tissue paper. The garments inside could barely be considered clothing and a blush flooded my cheeks. “Koen,” I gasped and peeked my head back out. “This would be more appropriate for tying someone’s hair back!” I tried not to sound too horrified, as they were of course still a gift. “How are these meant to protect any modesty?” I asked.

“They aren’t! Not if I can help it.” He smiled at me and I couldn’t help but roll my eyes at his charming expression.

I picked a plain white pair and slipped them over my thighs. The lacy fabric felt soft on my skin as I settled it on my hips. They made me feel pretty. I swallowed tightly and continued to dress, trousers first and then the T-shirt. It was looser than expected but fit perfectly to my curves and chest.

“You’re killing us,” Koen groaned. “Do you need–”

His complaints were silenced as I stepped out from behind the shade.

“Wow.” Clay nodded with that cheeky smile, his elbow propped on the arm of the chair with his fingers at his mouth as he studied me.

I had tucked the front of the shirt into the pants and pulled my hair from the bun it was in. I ran my hands over my thighs and tried to stand tall but it was hard to do so when my heart was racing that fast.

“Incredible,” Koen huffed. “Honestly, I’ve been worried. I was wondering if you even had legs or if you just floated everywhere under those long skirts,” he joked and pulled a nervous laugh from my lips.

I rolled my eyes at the ridiculous image his statement produced and then narrowed them at him slyly. “Koen, you’ve seen my legs, have you forgotten?” I asked brazenly, referring to the night in the bathing room. His eyes twinkled lustfully and a grin spread over his face.

“I could never, ” he promised. “Do you like the clothes?”

I looked down at myself, rubbing my hands over the soft fabric of the shirt and looking back up to the men. “I think so,” I answered honestly. “It's a strange feeling, wearing pants.” I shrugged. “But I feel pretty?”

“You are pretty,” Clay voiced in that profound tone that demanded attention .

“Oh!” Koen slid forward and grabbed one of the boxes from the bed. “Look.” He opened the lid and inside were a pair of beautiful brown boots with laces and an inlaid zipper up the inner side.

“They’re…” I ran my fingers over them and smiled.

“Sit,” he instructed and I listened, taking his spot as he slipped both on my feet and Clay’s arm extended across the table to rub lazy circles on the back of my arm.

“Do they fit?” Koen asked, leaning back on his heels.

“Perfectly.” I leaned forward, grasping his face, and kissed him.

It was still strange to me that neither cared about sharing the affection. It didn’t seem to bother Clay that Koen’s hands tangled around my waist and up my back. Greedy as I was for more, I found myself caring less and less about the mathematics of everything and just took their attention for what it was. Bountiful.

Koen looked drunk when he pulled back from me, hazy eyes staring at me bewildered and lust-filled. “More!” He declared. “Do a spin for us, Blossom.”

I obliged and spun on my boots' toes for them, hollering and clapping as I did so. With their eyes on me, I felt like the center of the universe.

“This truly is a lovely surprise,” I said softly.

Clay reached out to me. “Come here.” He wrapped his fingers into the pocket of the trousers and pulled me into his lap as Koen searched through the pile of presents.

“How did you afford all of this?” I scowled as he rubbed his hand across my stomach.

“Fake credit cards.” Koen shrugged. I would have to ask them later what exactly a credit card was. “Here it is! ”

He was holding out the box when the bedroom door was flung open and Wesley stumbled in with his gun drawn. I tensed in Clay’s lap but his strong palm laid flat to my stomach, not allowing me to move away from him. Wesley fought to control his ragged breathing and the bandage on his leg was bleeding through his sweatpants.

“What the hell is going on in here?” He huffed.

Koen laughed wildly, the sound filling the room as he set the box in my lap and moved toward Wesley. He wrapped his fingers around the barrel of the gun and I held my breath but nothing happened. Wesley slumped against the door frame and glared at us.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Koen asked.

“I thought I heard screaming,” he argued. His tan chest was covered in sweat that soaked the back of his neck and dampened the ends of his golden hair.

Clay’s hand loosened on my thigh as the situation seemed to diffuse in the air around us. Wesley assessed the room. His lips pressed into a thin line as I returned to opening the box in my lap.

“I wouldn’t–” Koen started, his hand out toward me to stop, but it was too late.

I pulled the silky fabric from the box to expose a piece of dark green clothing with thin straps and a delicate see through material embroidered with flowers. When I looked up from my lap and held it to my body, I realized that it wouldn’t protect an ounce of–well anything .

Clay’s entire body shifted beneath me, alerting me to the eyes on me in the room .

Koen watched intently. The blush on his cheeks was red and looked hot to the touch. Wesley stared wide-eyed at the clothing as he ran a hand through his hair, breathing heavily.

“I’m leaving,” he announced and stumbled from the room.

“I should…” Koen swallowed, shaking himself from his stupor. “...help him get back to bed.”

He moved toward the door as Wesley’s grunting echoed up the corridor but stopped and came back just for a second. He peeked his head in the door, all smiles and blond curls. “For the love of god, please put that on before I come back.” He looked me over once more, his head cocking to the side as he backed out of the room and disappeared.

“What is it?” I looked over my shoulder at Clay, who seemed to be losing his grip on his self-control.

“ Trouble .” He scooped me in his arms and carried me to the bed.