A presence that is somehow warmer than the flames settles in the open space next to me on my tree bench.
Finn. The name, even as I think it, flows through me. Filling me up.
He holds out his plate. “Want one?”
Finn offers brownies. And pretzels.
“Is this a coincidence, or did you remember?” I pick up one of the gooey chocolate treats and carefully arrange pretzels on top before biting down. Soft, sweet, salty, crunchy.
The perfect dessert.
“I pay attention,” he murmurs.
I nod in approval.
“Isla.” Sorcha crouches by my side. “I wanted to let you know we have a free bed if you want to stay over.”
“Thank you. I’ll consider it.”
The kind woman squeezes my shoulder before strolling off.
Staying over at the MacNamaras’ was one of my favorite things when I was younger. I’d watch movies late into the night with everyone and then gorge on the delicious breakfast Mr. MacNamara made in the morning. The offer appeals to me as much as it used to because it means a break from my parents and their endless rules.
I love the two people who raised me more than I love the gods themselves. Unfortunately, Ann and Patrick Brown are rigid. They have many fears, most related to the possibility of our discovery. The human world would cause quite a commotion if everyone found out about mythical creatures, and my parents have outlined every gruesome outcome in detail to me.
I appreciate their candor, and I know I get much of my practical manner from them. But I find I am not ruled by the same worries they are. Aware of them, of course. I am cautious when not around my kind. But, while I might not enjoy large gatherings, I do like being around people different than me even if some things get lost in translation.
Moira, Folk Haven’s premier—and only—real estate agent, is helping me find a piece of land to purchase. Houses tend to pass down through generations, and I don’t want to wait around for my parents to pass away to have a home of my own.
If my mother lectures me about properly locking my car again, I might set up a tent on a piece of land rather than wait around for a house to be built.
Sorcha’s offer of a night away from their hovering is welcome.
Unfortunately, I won’t be able to accept.
“Are you staying over?” Finn asks before picking up his own brownie and taking a hearty bite.
“Likely not.”
He swallows his dessert. “Why not?”
Despite my normal habit of honesty, I hesitate before sharing. The truth is, I don’t enjoy people knowing how I lose control.
But Finn waits patiently as I convince myself there is no reason to be ashamed.
“I often have nightmares if I don’t follow a certain routine before bed,” I admit. “I’d rather not wake people up with my screaming.”
“Screaming?” He leans closer, his shoulder pressing against mine. “Those must be bad.”
I nod. Things often are when they’re based on actual trauma.
The pressure of his body against mine is nice. Soothing. I lean into him as well.
“There’s no way to re-create your routine here?” he asks.
If only I’d packed the proper supplies.I frown down at my towel bag before shaking my head. “The most important part is relieving stress. Which I do by providing myself with two to three orgasms.”
There’s a choking sound, and I glance over to find Finn coughing. I get up, hurrying over to a cooler with drinks, and grab him a bottle of water. When I hand it off, he downs half the thing in two swallows.
