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Haut throws his cards down. “She hasn’t earned that.”
“I’m pretty sure I just won this game of Monopoly,” I counter and accept my reward. “Thank you, sparky.”
“Thank me,” Haut demands. “It’s my pie.”
Tris smirks. “I think, technically, it’s Ros’s pie.”
Ros turns the page. “Don’t drag me into your dominance play.”
Tris eagerly leans over him, putting his throat on full display. “You know what would be a great dominance play? If you fed from me, and then we both—”
“We have a guest in the house!” Owen announces in a voice that can probably be heard down on Main Street. “Mel’s upstairs, but she should be down soon.”
More thumping echoes through the house.
“Well, maybe not soon,” Owen revises. “Join us in the kitchen. I can get you a beverage while you meet the others.”
Owen returns to the kitchen, leading a tall, blond man in his late twenties, with classical features and intense, blue eyes.
His chiseled lips curve in a smile. “Greetings, I’m Aspen Redfern. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
The fork drops from my fingers as I stare at the man. “Damn, that’s no dud.”
Tris fans himself. “More like stud.”
I take in the way Aspen’s clothes mold to his fit body. “Full meal deal.”
Tris nods. “All the fixings.”
“The whole horse and wagon,” I breathe.
Tris gives me a disgusted look. “Rewind. Not sexy.”
“The cherry on top of a triple-chocolate sundae,” I breathe.
He holds up his hand. “Nice.”
We high five.
“Well, that was certainly…objectifying.” Aspen casts a hopeful glance at Ros. “Are you Tris?” Then his focus shifts to Haut. “And…Rowe?”
Both men point silently at me and Tris.
Dismay fills Aspen’s gaze. “Oh, my.”
I stare up at him with wide, innocent eyes. “There’s no shame in running.”
Mel’s light footsteps sound on the stairs. “No one is running, so stop trying to scare him, you two.”
She floats into the kitchen a moment later in a peasant blouse and a swirl of floral skirts, her hands already on her hips as she glares at us. “You promised to behave.”
Tris takes in her transformation into the good witch and shakes his head. “That deal ended at dinner time, Glinda.”
“My apologies for arriving so late,” Aspen says stiffly. “An accident closed down the highway. I would have checked into a hotel, but the only accommodations were…unsavory.”
I look up at Tris. “He’s dissing our love shack.”
He shakes his head. “No, our love shack was between the flea-ridden motel where you hid under the bed and the hotel where I got thrown off the balcony of the top floor honeymoon suite.”
