The morning sunshinestreamed through the windshield as I pulled into the driveway at my mother’s house. This was not the way I would’ve chosen to spend my Sunday morning, but I didn’t really have a choice in the matter. I shut off the truck and turned in my seat to observe Ari. He was stunning, dark hair gleaming. He gave me a long look out of the corner of his eye that had me feeling amused. When I’d ordered him into the truck, he hadn’t asked any questions, which I loved, but I bet he was regretting that now.
“Why are we here? You didn’t say where we were going.” He leaned forward, his natural curiosity taking over as he scanned the large farmhouse in front of us. The pink siding had been a complete and total nightmare to install last year, and the matching roses around the foundation all regularly died. I wasn’t sure what my mother did to them, but I’d replaced them three times in the last three years. My mother lived outside of the city and had insisted on having a lawn large enough to be visible from space and plot of farmland to go along with her outsized home, even though she had zero desire to keep up with the chores that went along with such a massive investment. Oh, and she didn’t have the cash to pay anyone else to do it, either.
My mother’s selfishness meant the majority of the upkeep had fallen on me over the years, and now that she was getting older, taking care of her property was more of an ongoing side project than “occasional help,” which was how she framed the argument anytime I told her I was too busy with work to come out. She thought everything qualified as an emergency.
I brushed my thumb over Ari’s cheek, and he leaned into my caress, which sent a deep satisfaction through me I couldn’t quite express in words. I brushed his long, dark hair behind his right ear, and it gave me a thrill to touch him so casually, especially since I’d seen him kill a man with his own hands. I smoothed another strand of hair behind his other ear, the way I’d seen other people touch their lovers over the years, and I finally understood why people had their hands all over their significant other. I’d never been inclined to do this before Ari.
“Coming out here is one of my errands for the weekend. My mother needs help with a few things around her house, and since you’re with me now, you can help, too.”
He stilled under my touch, and I slipped my hand around to squeeze the back of his neck. A small smile flickered across his lips. “Why, Master?”
“Because this is a commitment I have, and I want you at my side as much as possible.”
Ari put his hand over mine where I held on to him and smiled. “I like that. I want to be near you, too. Fine, let’s get this over with.” He made a face.
“You don’t like chores?” I chuckled at his irritation.
He stiffened in my grip. “Does anyone?”
I brought him in and dropped a kiss on his soft lips, then nipped the bottom one hard until I won a sweet little whimper. After a few seconds his eyelids dipped closed, and when he opened them again, he seemed drunk—on me. He was addicting. “Good point. Let’s get in and out as fast as possible so I can take you home and tie you to my bed.”
His breath caught. “Do you mean that?”
I smirked but didn’t answer as we got out of the truck, then walked toward the front door, and I snagged his hand in mine during the short trip.
Ari squeezed my fingers and glanced toward the dazzling blue sky. “Why do you do this? Do you like your mother?”
I shrugged. “No, not particularly. Normalcy. Most people help their parents, especially as they get old. It’s expected. People would think less of me if I abandoned her and ask questions about it. If I ever decide to leave New Gothenburg, I’ll stop.”
Ari pursed his lips but didn’t say anything else as we climbed the front steps together. I glanced up to check on the porch roof because sometimes birds tried to build nests in the rafters, but so far none had made the attempt this year. We went to the door, and I didn’t knock, simply opened it and went inside with Ari hot on my heels.
“Mom! I’m here!” I called. I didn’t miss the way his gaze strayed to the extravagant wallpaper pattern on the hallway walls—purple orchids and silver ribbons in metallic colors cut horizontal lines across a pastel green background. I would have to completely redo the house if I ever wanted to sell it.
“In the kitchen!” she snapped back, and I could tell by her tone she would be unpleasant today, but I’d stopped caring about what she said and did a long time ago. I wasn’t here for her, I was here to keep up appearances and have something to talk about with Paxton that sounded normal. I stomped through the dining room, which held a massive table I didn’t think had ever seated anyone, even though it was decorated with place settings that would shame a fancy restaurant. Ari grunted and I couldn’t tell what exactly he was thinking, but he held my hand tighter as we went through an archway into the kitchen.
My mother sat at the round wooden table with a skinny glass of tomato juice in front of her, and there was a fifty-fifty chance it was a Bloody Mary because there was a piece of celery sticking out of the top. I liked the kitchen best because she’d kept a classic look, and while the entire thing seemed like a lemon meringue pie had exploded—vibrant yellow walls, whiter than white cupboards, tiles, and appliances—at least it wasn’t a mishmash of designs.
My mother’s gray hair was thinning and she tended to keep it up in a bun and wear little hats over it, and today’s had a wide brim and was a pink that matched the billowy dress that hung off her fragile frame. She also had my heavy shoulders and jaw. While her height had helped her intimidate men and added to her beauty as a younger woman, now that she was aging and not eating well, she appeared gaunt, nearly skeletal. I’d asked her to go to a doctor a few times, but she wouldn’t, and she hadn’t been to one in nearly twenty years. One of these days I would probably find her dead.
“I’m here,” I announced, walking into the kitchen. Ari’s fingers clenched on mine.
“About damned time.” She sipped her drink and narrowed her eyes on my sweet killer. I didn’t drop his hand, though, because I was beyond the point where I cared what she had to say about how I lived my life. “You always did wander in whenever the hell you felt like it. Every watch I ever bought you ended up destroyed out of spite.”
Irritation began to bubble in my gut, but I did my best to ignore her acid tone. Ari let out a hiss, and I squeezed his hand.
Mom stared directly at Ari and raised her eyebrows. “Who is this one.” She flicked a finger in his direction.
“My boyfriend, Aramis. He has graciously agreed to help me today, so be nice.”
Ari gave me a long look full of censure out of the corner of his eye. Yeah, I was lying, but I guessed his problem was that he didn’t like me telling other people to be nice because he wasn’t likely to do it. He didn’t have to worry, though. Except for the killing, he was a saint compared to my mother.
Mom lifted her glass and drained half of it, then slammed it back on the table. “The paint is waiting upstairs. I covered the furniture and carpeting with sheets this week, but if you manage to get paint on anything you’re replacing it.”
I could feel Ari staring at me and trying to work out why we were here, since Mom was clearly an ungrateful old windbag, but I didn’t have anything more to say to him on the subject, so I simply went upstairs with him. He crossed his arms and followed me around as I opened all the windows in the three rooms she wanted repainted from a vibrant red to a light golden rose. He didn’t so much as say a single peep as I got out the rollers and primer so we could start working. While I was crouched on the floor next to the paint pan, Ari ran his fingers through my hair, and when I glanced up at him, he flashed me a smile. It wasn’t quite real—I’d seen him happy.
“I appreciate your support.” I touched a hand to his hip. “But you don’t have to be anything other than yourself with me.”
“How do I tell you I fucking hate her and like you, without the smile? That’s what people do, they smile.”
