And now here she was, crying on her back porch because the man she loved was building a shed.
"Tula?" Esag's voice cut through her thoughts. He had paused his work and was looking at her with concern. "Are you all right?"
"I'm fine." She wiped at her eyes, embarrassed. "Pregnancy hormones. Everything makes me emotional these days."
He didn't look entirely convinced, but he nodded and returned to his work.
The California sun was beating down on them mercilessly, even though it was winter, and soon all three men had worked up a considerable sweat.
"Bless you," Davuh said as he grabbed a bottle of cold water and drained half of it in one long pull. "I forgot what doing real work felt like."
Roven snorted. "You think this is real work? This is child's play. It's like those building blocks that fit into each other."
Tula smiled, content to watch the good-natured bickering continue. The shed was beginning to take shape now—a floor platform laid out, the first wall panels being attached to the frame. It was still just the skeleton, but she could see the potential in it.
It was by no means the main attraction, though.
As the morning wore on and the sun climbed higher, the men stripped off their shirts one by one, tossing them aside and working bare-chested.
Tula's mouth went dry.
They were all handsome. That was simply a fact of immortal genetics. Davuh was broad and solid, built like a warrior. Roven was a little leaner, but Esag was on a different level.
Memories of another time flooded through her mind unbidden, when she had been a young girl watching Khiann and Esag spar in the courtyard.
As a god, Khiann had been almost painfully beautiful, radiating otherworldly perfection. But Esag was warm, his good looks not as perfect but approachable and inviting, his easy smiles and teasing banter making him even more attractive. When he moved, he moved like water, flowing from one position to the next with a grace that rivaled the god he served. And when he laughed, throwing back his head, Tula had felt something flutter in her chest that back then she hadn't had the words for yet.
When Khiann and Esag fenced or wrestled, Annani and Gulan would often come to watch, with Annani drooling over Khiann and Gulan drooling over Esag.
Tula had rolled her eyes at both of them, but secretly, she had watched too. And secretly, she had compared the two magnificent males.
She had been a little in love with Esag even then, she realized now. She'd just been too angry at him to acknowledge that. Come to think of it, perhaps she hadn't been angry at himonly because he'd been leading Gulan on with no intentions of breaking his engagement to Ashegan, but because Tula had wanted him for herself.
She just hadn't recognized the feeling for what it was.
Five thousand years later, watching him work shirtless in their backyard, that flutter was back. Much stronger now, deeper and mature, accompanied by the certainty that this man was hers.
He still moved with that same fluid grace, still smiled with that same easy warmth. The muscles beneath his sun-bronzed skin flexed and shifted as he lifted panels and hammered nails, and Tula was completely, utterly captivated.
Noticing the way she was staring at Esag, Davuh elbowed him and jerked his head in her direction with a knowing grin. Esag turned, following his friend's gaze, and when his eyes met hers, his smile transformed into something wickedly sexy.
He straightened slowly, deliberately, and flexed his arms in an exaggerated display that was clearly meant to be over the top and comical but somehow managed to be devastatingly attractive anyway. His grin stretched from ear to ear, boyish and proud and familiar.
This was exactly how she remembered him. The playfulness, the joy, the refusal to take himself seriously, even when it had been warranted.
Five thousand years of guilt and loneliness had layered sadness over that sunny disposition, but it was still there beneath the surface, and it was emerging more with each passing day.
She was bringing him back to himself just as he was bringing her back to herself.
She'd spent the last five thousand years being cynical and angry, but Esag was bringing out the spirited girl she used to be before her entire world had collapsed.
Tula crooked a finger, beckoning him over.
Esag's grin widened, and he set down his hammer before sauntering toward the porch. He was taking his time, letting her appreciate the view, and when he reached the steps, he leaned down, bracing his hands on the arms of her chair and bringing his face close to hers.
"You rang, my lady?"
She grabbed the back of his neck and pulled him down for a kiss.
