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“He didn’t like Cuckoo from the start,” Brodie said, and she thought about her conversation with Art in this room when he’d first told her about Cuckoo. “But he didn’t put up major objections to me sleeping with her until a month or so after we started.”
“Art didn’t like me at the start either,” she said, though it wasn’t that Art didn’t like her, he was just wary of what a woman could do to Brodie if she chose to take advantage of his skills.
“Art wanted us to be together,” Brodie said. “He didn’t say it like that, but I got the gist.”
“He said it to me,” she said. “He was pretty upfront and forceful about it to be honest.”
“He did?” Brodie asked, and instead of getting defensive, she sensed his want to know more. After losing someone, she guessed it was nice to get new information about them, even if it was second hand.
“Yeah,” she said, taking his hand to lead him over to the couch, where she sat and pulled him down with her, just where Art had once sat. “We were sitting right here, and he told me that I was good for you. I told him not to push, then you and Tuck walked in.”
“I remember that morning, I knew something was going on.”
“He wanted what was best for you. He wanted you to be happy. To find your normal.”
That was how he’d said it when he was dying and his blood stained all of their hands. Thinking about that day made the memory bittersweet. It was reassuring that she’d gotten Art’s seal of approval before he died, for her and for Brodie too. But she couldn’t help but wonder how it all might have been different if he’d lived.
“Do you think we’d still be here?” she asked. “If he was still with us?”
“That we would be together?” Brodie asked. “Way you’re telling it, the old man was damn sure about forcing us together whether we wanted to be or not.”
“You don’t feel forced,” she said, with a wave of concern that made her recall other things Art had said while he was dying. “He said that you loved me, that I loved you, that’s not the reason that… that’s not why you picked me or let me hang around while you were grieving.”
Cupping her face, he grazed his thumb over her cheek. “Art had a way of knowing what I was thinking before I did. You’re sort of the same in that way. He knew that I loved you, I just couldn’t say it because… I don’t know, because I just couldn’t.”
“You say it now,” she said. Though she could count on one hand the number of times he had said it, she still liked to hear it. “I wonder what Art would think about this, about us finding our way together, about how the Kindred has changed without him.”
“We haven’t changed that much,” Brodie said. “He’d be pissed at me for dropping the ball for so long.”
“I don’t think so,” she said, leaning against the high arm of the couch and lifting her legs over his lap. “He wouldn’t want your grief to consume you. But I think he would appreciate you grieving him, it showed how much you cared… it showed me a lot about who you are, and that his death affected you in the way it did was endearing.”
He blinked. “Endearing?”
“I was flying in the dark. I could barely find my way to the garage, and it’s right at the bottom of the stairs. I didn’t have a clue what I was doing or how to run this place.”
“I let you down.”
“No,” she said, sitting up and holding the back of the couch to help her keep her balance while his strong hands rested on her legs to give her an anchor. “I liked looking after you and that you let me… I appreciated it. Seeing you affected like that, it made me hope that you could one day love me… and now you do. Being thrown in at the deep end was the only way I’d have learned. Otherwise, it would’ve been too easy for me to let you or Art do everything. This place, and you, it’s home to me now. I don’t feel like just a guest when I’m here. I just wish we didn’t have to lose Art for us both to learn our lessons.”
When his gaze left hers and he started to caress her legs, she worried that she’d pushed too far. In speaking about Art and that dark time in their lives after losing him, she was reawakening demons that Brodie had barely managed to put back in their box. Sliding a hand to his face, she pulled him closer to kiss his cheek then nuzzled near his ear.
“I love you and I will always be here. I will always be beside you… no matter what we face.”
He didn’t respond in words. His hands stopped on her flesh and he breathed for a few seconds. Then in a quick action, he scooped his arms beneath her body and stood up, carrying her off.
“Even when I’m being a jerk, I’d never walk away from you,” he said, taking her to the door.
It was nice to get that assurance and to know that even if one was out of line, it wouldn’t jeopardize their love. “Where are we going?” she asked because with Brodie, she could never be sure what he had planned.
“Time to go to bed, partner.”
“Sleep is for the weak,” she responded and opened the kitchen door to let them out of the room.
“Who said anything about sleep,” he said. She should’ve realized that he was talking about sex after his reference to spending the night thinking about her.
“Shouldn’t we be planning tomorrow’s op?”
“You might get to call the shots to ensure a team effort in the field,” he said, stopping on the stairs to bend and put her down. With the upper stair digging into her lower back, she was forced to arch against him when he lowered to kiss her, then he murmured his words into her mouth. “But don’t forget who’s in charge of this body in the bedroom.”
