The weak feeling intensified when he added in a lower voice, “I think every part of you is stunning, Pen. But, lately, I’m most interested in your lips.”
I ran my tongue across them and held my breath until Kit smiled and turned away. Without his arm bracing me, I stumbled back, catching myself on wobbly legs. In profile, I saw Kit smiling to himself so mischievously it was clear he knew he’d bested me.
Besides the fluttery feeling eating up my insides, an erection was beginning to tent my trousers. I tugged at my crotch, trying to adjust before Kit noticed.
“I think I’ll head home,” I called over to Kit as the hammer resumed its rhythmic tapping. Shouldering my satchel, I swung it around in front of my groin and gave it a pat. “Tidy up. Get dinner ready.” Take a moment to myself to deal with the lustful thoughts crowding into my brain…
“Thoma’s coming, isn’t he?” I asked.
Kit’s nod was answer enough to send me scurrying from the shop with the memory of his touch fresh in my mind.
4
Penny
The rest of the afternoon into evening was pleasant. I got the house cleaned, and Kit returned home just as I was getting a pan of chicken and vegetables simmering on the stove. When he disappeared for his nightly bath, I had half a mind to pile in on top of him, clothes and all. But Thoma was due any moment, so I loitered in the kitchen dragging a string across the floor for Ember and Nutmeg to chase.
The pause in activity gave me time to think, and to reconsider the news of the day. Anders’s announcement, like his presence, had come as an annoyance, but now, it gnawed at me. It wasn't so much Anders himself as the idea of Merrick scheming from his office high in the Ossuary, tirelessly conjuring new ways to make my life in Ashpoint more difficult.
It seemed, and Merrick had yet to say anything to the contrary, that my greatest slight against my half-brother was being born. My existence vexed him. For years, I tried to please him or make amends for my life being such an affront to his. Now, I was wiser, and the feeling of loathing was mutual.
A knock at the front door announced our company, and I called toward the bedroom for Kit as I went to answer.
On the stoop, Thoma stood holding a small wicker basket. The smell of fresh yeast and the mound of food hidden beneath a tied kerchief hinted at some kind of bread I gladly accepted when he held it out.
“Reimond’s mother sent rolls,” Thoma explained.
“They’ll be perfect with the chicken,” I replied and stepped aside to beckon him in. I’d barely closed the door before Kit emerged from the hall. His hair was slick and damp and his face was freshly shaved. I tucked the basket of bread under one arm and went to greet him, smiling as I hugged the other low around his hips and nosed along his smooth jaw.
He draped his own arm across my shoulders, and we jointly faced our guest.
“Glad to have you, Thoma,” Kit said. “I hope you’re hungry. I think Pen made enough to feed the whole town.”
“I thought he could take some home,” I said. It seemed a small kindness, if a belated one, to send a meal to Reimond’s family. After my father died, our neighbors brought food for a week or more, flooding our pantry and ice box with more than we could eat in a month.
Thoma stuffed his hands in his trouser pockets as the kittens skittered past. Nutmeg dragged the string I’d abandoned, with Ember hot on her tail. Their little paws pattered all the way to the bedroom.
“You got cats.” Thoma tipped his chin in the direction they’d gone.
I nodded solemnly. “Merrick says I’m not fit to father human children, so animals will have to do.”
Thoma’s brow furrowed. “What?”
“It’s nothing.” Kit shot me a weary look before returning his attention to Thoma. “They’re from Rosie. I think she has a few left if you’d like one of your own. They make for good company.”He guided me toward the dining room where the table was set, and Thoma tagged along after.
“Reimond’s father isn’t fond of indoor pets,” Thoma mumbled. “Maybe after I go back to our…” He paused, then frowned. “Myhouse.”
Kit had mentioned that Thoma had been avoiding his and Reimond’s house since the third Oath. I understood his trepidation and felt a bit of it myself when I considered returning to Eastcliff. Death left a hole in any home, and it must have been so much worse to sense that absence in the bed you once shared. Now that Kit and I had a room together, I couldn’t bear the thought of being without him even for a night, much less forever.
I passed the basket of rolls to Kit, and he and Thoma settled around the table. I went to the stove to dish up food, seeking a change of topic and seizing upon the first that came to mind.
“Speaking of Merrick,” I began.
Kit groaned and slumped in his seat. “Can we not?”
Rescuing the cast iron skillet from the cooktop, I carried it to the table with a wooden spoon in my other hand and began scooping carrots and potatoes onto Thoma’s plate, then Kit’s.
“Oh, but we must,” I continued. “Thoma will appreciate this. Thanks to my half-brother’s constant oversight, we’ve been assigned to work with Anders for the fourth Oath.”
