Mist and Marrow (Breaking Tradition Book 2) by Mary Calmes

Author:Mary Calmes [Calmes, Mary]
Language: eng
Format: azw3, epub
Published: 2022-04-12T00:00:00+00:00

I called his name when I got in the bathroom, and even though he didn’t answer, I checked the stalls anyway since he was probably still pissed at me from earlier. Returning to the hall, I noted that the back door was propped open. Leaning out, to the left, I didn’t see anyone except Todd, finally getting out of the dumpster, but when I looked right, around the door, I saw a line of servers, all smoking, all standing under the awning so the rain that had stopped for a bit but was now coming down in sheets—Chicago weather—wouldn’t drown them. The last one in the row was Linden.

Walking out, careful not to move the bucket of baking soda that was keeping the door propped open, I jogged down to the end where he was.

He groaned when he saw me.

“You don’t smoke,” I told him.

“I do on occasion,” he informed me. “I have a vintage solid gold cigarette holder that’s extremely elegant, but it’s in my nightstand at home.”

“In the apartment at Avery’s parents’ house?”

“No, in the apartment I share with you. That’s my home now, is it not?” He was daring me to contradict him.

“Yes, it’s your home,” I told him.

“Good,” he mumbled, not looking happy in the least, barely meeting my gaze. “Now, you should go back inside before you get wet.”

“C’mon,” I pleaded hoarsely, watching him with his arms crossed, trying to stay warm as he puffed on what I could now smell was a clove cigarette, making me want to hold him. I had no idea what it was, but his distress, of any kind, hit me hard. “I’m sorry, all right? I didn’t mean anything I said earlier. I was just trying to––” How to explain without sounding like a conceited jerk? I’m purposely an ass to you so you don’t fall in love with me? Like that would be a foregone conclusion because I was so perfect?

“Trying to what?”

I shook my head.

“You must tell me,” he insisted.

I ignored him and instead plowed on. “Listen, you did great. It’s beautiful, and if you would please do my bedroom, because next to yours, it looks like shit, I would very much appreciate it.”

The look I was getting seemed concerned about my sanity.

“Come on,” I groaned, head back, eyes closed, hands in my pockets for a moment before I returned my gaze to his face. “Just accept my goddamn apology already.”

“Oh, that’s charming,” he said drolly.

“Your room is amazing,” I told him, because of course I’d walked in there.

The enormous king was covered in heavy blankets, velvet, brocade, and chenille pillows lay everywhere, and the chaise at the end of the bed, in a warm turquoise, set off the color of the deep maroon rug beautifully. The armoire, bookshelf, bed, and nightstands were mahogany. There was an oversized wingback chair with a matching ottoman by the window draped in throws, and the three lamps, one freestanding, one on each nightstand, were Tiffany. It made me think of

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