Read Online Broken Soul: A Jane Yellowrock Novel by Faith Hunter - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Faith Hunter
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flowers with a scent so delectable Beast rolled over on her back and purred.
I just stared at the flowers. Feeling weird.
Bruiser had brought me flowers.
CHAPTER 4
An Offer to Dish
“Jane?”
I started, realizing I had been standing, without greeting him, my eyes on the flowers. “Ummm.” Moving woodenly, I opened the door and stood aside to let him in.
Wearing a faint, quizzical smile that would have done my Ranger partner proud, he said, “You act like no one ever brought you flowers before.”
“Yeah. Once.”
Rick
. Rick had brought me daisies and sunflowers. But I didn’t say that. “What do I do with them?”
Bruiser’s face changed, and I had no idea what the new expression meant. I didn’t take my eyes from the flowers to get a better look. His voice soft, he said, “They go in a vase. On the nightstand by your bed. Or on the kitchen table. Or on the coffee table in the living room. They go where you can see them most often, and, seeing them, remember that you deserve flowers.” When I still just stood there, he said, “I’ll get a vase from the kitchen. I’m sure Katie left some here. Why don’t you get dressed. And then we can have breakfast. I brought beignets from Café du Monde, and tea.”
“Yeah. I’ll go get dressed.” I could tell my voice sounded weird, but I turned and went to my room, shutting myself in. I stood there, my back to the paneled door, staring stupidly.
Flowers?
I pulled on jeans and a T-shirt and braided my hair, debating on makeup. I finally put a touch of lipstick on my bottom lip and smeared my lips together to mush the color around until there was just a tint left. And found myself staringat my reflection in the mirror, my amber eyes catching the light. Rick had brought me flowers. Rick had deserted me. Now Bruiser had brought me flowers.
Flowers. With catnip.
My Beast was silent but excited, alert, and curious, ears flicking, eyes intent.
I walked back into the living room and followed the smells of beignets and flowers to the kitchen. Bruiser was facing the window, drying his hands, backlit by the window light, so I could see only a profile, his brown hair darkened by glare, his nose a tad too strong for classical beauty, yet well formed. It was a totally sexy nose. He was tall, strong-looking, capable. His stance said he could handle anything, protect anyone, or die trying. Something tightened in my middle.
Behind him, on the table, was a cut crystal vase that had been in the butler’s pantry, the bouquet inside it, the blooms fluffed. Short snips of stems lay in a small pile, where he’d trimmed them. I vaguely remembered that the stems of cut flowers had to be trimmed every few days.
Beignets were on china plates from the top cabinet. Tea had been poured into matching china cups. They were sitting on saucers, with tiny little napkins beside each. There was real cream in a tiny pitcher I had seen somewhere on a shelf and a matching sugar-holder thingy. And polished silver spoons. And the flowers. In a vase.
Beast was peering out through my eyes, staring at my bouquet. She sniffed and filled our/my head with the scent.
Catnip?
she asked
. For Beast?
Yeah. Catnip.
The fancy flowers were bad enough. The catnip was something much worse. The aroma expanded as if trying to fill the house.
Bruiser had moved in here not that long ago, a temporary arrangement, he’d called it. Then he had moved back out, and back into vamp HQ, to help with the transition of the old primo—him—to the new primo—Adelaide. Now he wasn’t even a full-time blood-servant, or at least, that was the way I had interpreted the meeting earlier. I didn’t know what he was to Leo. And I didn’t know what he was to me. We had danced. We had killed rogue vamps together in Natchez. We had shared a few intense physical moments brought on by mutual attraction and once by magic. But I had no idea what any of it meant or where I wanted us to go.
Bruiser seemed to sense me behind him
I just stared at the flowers. Feeling weird.
Bruiser had brought me flowers.
CHAPTER 4
An Offer to Dish
“Jane?”
I started, realizing I had been standing, without greeting him, my eyes on the flowers. “Ummm.” Moving woodenly, I opened the door and stood aside to let him in.
Wearing a faint, quizzical smile that would have done my Ranger partner proud, he said, “You act like no one ever brought you flowers before.”
“Yeah. Once.”
Rick
. Rick had brought me daisies and sunflowers. But I didn’t say that. “What do I do with them?”
Bruiser’s face changed, and I had no idea what the new expression meant. I didn’t take my eyes from the flowers to get a better look. His voice soft, he said, “They go in a vase. On the nightstand by your bed. Or on the kitchen table. Or on the coffee table in the living room. They go where you can see them most often, and, seeing them, remember that you deserve flowers.” When I still just stood there, he said, “I’ll get a vase from the kitchen. I’m sure Katie left some here. Why don’t you get dressed. And then we can have breakfast. I brought beignets from Café du Monde, and tea.”
“Yeah. I’ll go get dressed.” I could tell my voice sounded weird, but I turned and went to my room, shutting myself in. I stood there, my back to the paneled door, staring stupidly.
Flowers?
I pulled on jeans and a T-shirt and braided my hair, debating on makeup. I finally put a touch of lipstick on my bottom lip and smeared my lips together to mush the color around until there was just a tint left. And found myself staringat my reflection in the mirror, my amber eyes catching the light. Rick had brought me flowers. Rick had deserted me. Now Bruiser had brought me flowers.
Flowers. With catnip.
My Beast was silent but excited, alert, and curious, ears flicking, eyes intent.
I walked back into the living room and followed the smells of beignets and flowers to the kitchen. Bruiser was facing the window, drying his hands, backlit by the window light, so I could see only a profile, his brown hair darkened by glare, his nose a tad too strong for classical beauty, yet well formed. It was a totally sexy nose. He was tall, strong-looking, capable. His stance said he could handle anything, protect anyone, or die trying. Something tightened in my middle.
Behind him, on the table, was a cut crystal vase that had been in the butler’s pantry, the bouquet inside it, the blooms fluffed. Short snips of stems lay in a small pile, where he’d trimmed them. I vaguely remembered that the stems of cut flowers had to be trimmed every few days.
Beignets were on china plates from the top cabinet. Tea had been poured into matching china cups. They were sitting on saucers, with tiny little napkins beside each. There was real cream in a tiny pitcher I had seen somewhere on a shelf and a matching sugar-holder thingy. And polished silver spoons. And the flowers. In a vase.
Beast was peering out through my eyes, staring at my bouquet. She sniffed and filled our/my head with the scent.
Catnip?
she asked
. For Beast?
Yeah. Catnip.
The fancy flowers were bad enough. The catnip was something much worse. The aroma expanded as if trying to fill the house.
Bruiser had moved in here not that long ago, a temporary arrangement, he’d called it. Then he had moved back out, and back into vamp HQ, to help with the transition of the old primo—him—to the new primo—Adelaide. Now he wasn’t even a full-time blood-servant, or at least, that was the way I had interpreted the meeting earlier. I didn’t know what he was to Leo. And I didn’t know what he was to me. We had danced. We had killed rogue vamps together in Natchez. We had shared a few intense physical moments brought on by mutual attraction and once by magic. But I had no idea what any of it meant or where I wanted us to go.
Bruiser seemed to sense me behind him
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