Page 41 of The Flame Game

Instead of the ten planned rose bushes, a collection of thirty took over our living room, meaning the archangel, the Devil, and my husband had rescued every damned rose plant we owned, including the six he’d planted when married to Audrey and the ones from the back yard.

Men.

“You three are excessive,” I announced.

The Devil grinned at me. “He began to fret you might miss the other roses, so we rescued them all. I recommend you build a greenhouse in your next home specifically for your roses, and then you can plant new roses outside to add to your collection.”

Oh, I liked that idea. “Please tell my husband all roses are edible roses.”

“They are. You can even eat non-edible ones to your heart’s content. That is one of the benefits of your line. You could chug nightshade without issue. Sure, you’d get one hell of a high and an even worse hangover, but it’s not going to kill you.”

“No, you may not chug nightshade,” Quinn stated, and according to his tone, we would have an epic fight if I even thought about it.

“Cut me off spaghetti, and we will have problems, you.”

The Devil laughed. “Your tomatoes are safe, and so are your greasy fries.”

I glared at my husband until he threw up his hands. “Bailey, I’ll have a heart attack if you start fiddling with poisons.”

“Stay away from my sauce supply, you.”

The Devil chuckled, and he slapped his hand to the side of the pot containing my favorite of the roses. “I’m going to head home. Enjoy your vacation, and when you decide on where you’ll live, I’ll bring your roses back.”

“Thank you.” I crouched next to my roses and patted them. “Be good until you come back.”

Before I could make even more of an idiot out of myself, the Devil disappeared and took the roses with him. Sariel straightened, stretched his wings, and rubbed his hands together. “With that handled, I shall head home as well. Try not to get into too much trouble, you two. I’ll be in the heavens for a while, so I might not be readily available. Reception is questionable depending on His mood.”

Before I could thank him, the archangel vanished.

Quinn closed the door and heaved a sigh. “That was exhausting.”

“Physically or emotionally?” I could fix the physically exhausted aspect. Gorgon-incubus doohickeys responded well when showered with affection, and mine particularly enjoyed when I showered him with affection in the shower.

“I’m going to say both.”

Score. “You can tidy the bathroom while I finish what I’m doing, then we can catch a short nap before we head off.”

“I won’t need a nap at that point, you saucy woman.”

“Well, I will!”

“You can nap in the car.”

Double score. “Find us a rental SUV so we can leave your precious car in the garage while we’re gone. We won’t have the space in the trunk for everything I’ve packed.”

“Okay. I’ll take care of that and pack.”

“I already packed for you. Selfishly.”

I loved his dark, sinful chuckle. “You’re something else.”

That I was. “Just hurry it up. We don’t have all day, and I forgot to schedule in time for a shower.”

Eight

I hate the stupid.

Life never went to plan.