Chapter One Hundred and Two

Havermouth, Present Time

“I need to make a detour,” Aislen told June. “I hope you don’t mind.”

“No,” June sent her a shy smile. “It’s either clean my house or be sidekick to your adventures, so I’m all good. You’re sort of a bit like a superhero. You’ve got the secret identity, a mission, and the exciting love life.”

Aislen laughed. “Fuck me,” she said as she pulled up at the hardware store. “You make it sound glamorous. Believe me, my life is as fucked up as it comes.”

“What are we doing here?” June asked, as they got out of the car.

“I think I need to paint my house. My porch and front door, at least,” Aislen told her. “Triquetra’s whore might be an accurate description for me, but I don’t need my house tagged with it.”

“You really slept with all three of them?” June asked, as they entered the store. The clerk and customer at the cash register looked up, jaws unhinged.

“Yep,” Aislen declared loudly. “Sometimes at the same time. I’m really flexible, thanks to yoga,” she winked at the clerk. “Does wonders for your sex life. Where can I find paint?” The clerk pointed to the rear of the shop, open-mouthed. “Ta.”

“Oh my god,” June whispered, as she followed Aislen towards the back wall. “I’m so sorry!”

Aislen laughed under her breath, with rueful amusement. “It’s not exactly a secret,” she pointed out.

“They’re… Well, you know, every girl in school would have given her eyeteeth to be with just one of them, and you had all three!” June stared at her wide-eyed. “What was it like?”

“The sex was… is… amazing,” Aislen looked at the paint. “The relationship sucked. Most of the time, at least. They were normally really… mean. Mean and controlling. Sometimes, though, they weren’t, and…” She paused as she read the back of a can. “When they weren’t being arseholes, those were the times that sort of kept me holding on. Like seeing a ray of light through the clouds. I’d think, things could get better… But they’d usually get worse.”

“I’m sorry,” June said softly.

“I think I need a trolley,” Aislen spotted the same young man who’d been stacking and restacking shelves the last time she’d been there. She wasn’t surprised to find him at it again. “Darling, I’ll blow you if you get me a trolley.”

“Aislen!” June gasped. “He might believe you!”

“I wasn’t talking to him, sweetie,” Aislen drawled with a wink. “But I’d let him watch.”

“I’ll get the trolley,” Rhett stepped out of the aisle behind them. “And I won’t charge you a blow job.” He was fresh from the shower, his hair still damp, his jaw clean-shaven, and the scent of soap and aftershave strong. He’d nicked the point of his chin when shaving. His black t-shirt clung, and the short sleeves and V-neck displayed his tattoos and the muscles of his arms.

“Fuck me,” Aislen muttered under her breath.

“It’s not the best location for that,” he murmured back, his lips curling and his eyes laughing.

“I’ll just… go get the trolley,” June edged around him and mouthed “Oh my god” over his shoulder at Aislen before hurrying to the front of the shop. The stacking clerk had scurried away the moment Rhett had spoken.

“What are you painting?” Rhett reached out and took the paint can from her.

“House,” she said. “I think the whole fucking house.”

“Black?” He raised his eyebrows. “It might fit our aesthetic, but it doesn’t resell well.”

“Dark grey with black and white details, I’m thinking,” she recovered her equilibrium. “How long have you been sulking in the shelves for?” She asked suspiciously.

“Not long. I saw your car, and followed you in,” he said, without embarrassment, as if it were the most normal thing to do. “I was on my way to work, sort of.”

“How do you sort of go to work?” She wondered.

“I have no bookings, so I was going to do some paperwork. But I’ll come and paint with you instead.”

She looked back at the shelf of cans and then back at him, deciding. “Alright.”

His smile was brilliant. “I’ll message Heath and Cameron to join us. Between the four of us, we should be able to make a good start today.”

“I’m back,” June said breathlessly, as she arrived with the trolley.

“Five of us,” Aislen corrected. “And, sure, I’m not going to turn down slave labour.”

“Great,” he said cheerfully, taking out his phone and typing a quick message. “Inside or outside?”

“Both.”

“I’ll get Cameron to bring a couple of ladders,” Rhett added to his message. “What’s inspired this sudden renovation?” He wondered, as he returned the phone to his pocket. “Have you decided to stay in Havermouth?” His voice was light, but his eyes were intent on hers, and she knew him well enough not to believe the casualness of the question.

“Someone broke in and spray painted the house,” June told him, wide-eyed.

“What?” He was alarmed. “When? Heath was…” He caught himself and slid Aislen a sideways look.

“I know where Heath was,” she told him. “And somewhere between then and when I returned from taking a walk around the main street.”

“I saw the purpose of that walk,” he told her. “You’re really feeling the poetry at the moment, aren’t you?”

“He knows,” June whispered, looking at Aislen.

“Yeah, the Triquetra know,” Aislen assured her.

“Someone broke into the house,” Rhett repeated. “And spray painted it?”

“They wrote ‘Triquetra’s Whore’ all over the place,” June ducked closer to Aislen when Rhett frowned at her. “Well, they did.”

“Who are you?” Rhett wondered.

“June Barnham,” Aislen told him.

“Guy’s sister? I recognize you now,” he nodded. “I’m sorry about your brother.”

“He didn’t do it,” June said. “Or he did, but not intending to kill her.”

“Sure,” Rhett lost interest in her. “Aislen,” Rhett started and then sighed. “What rooms are you thinking of doing?”

“Hallway and master bedroom, front of house and porch.”

“The floorboards,” June reminded her. “They need a different type of paint.”

“The porch floorboards,” Aislen added. “Are you staying to paint, June?” She asked.

June’s eyes went to Rhett and then back to Aislen. “I have that thing,” she said, shaking her head. “That very important thing.”

“Great,” Rhett said. “Let’s get the paint supplies then, so that June can get to her thing.”

“You don’t have to leave,” Aislen whispered to June when Rhett moved down the aisle with the trolley, tossing in paint brushes and selecting cans of paint. “It’s fine.”

“Oh, no,” June shook her head. “I have to leave. The way he’s looking at you… Leaving is the right thing to do. But I expect details when I pick you up for Guy’s hearing. All the details.”

At the cash register, Rhett pulled out his wallet to pay.

“Oh, no,” Aislen protested. “It’s my house and my painting project, I pay.”

“No,” he shook his head uncompromisingly. “I pay.”

“Rhett…”

He turned and smiled as he leaned over her and placed his lips near her ear, his cheek warm against hers, with just the faintest bite of stubble from a patch which he had not shaved as closely as elsewhere. “The Triquetra pays, Aislen,” the words were growled, but not in an angry way. “You are ours. It is right that we pay for what you need.”

Fuck, her knees were in danger of giving way and she was absolutely sure that she had made a mess of her underwear. She heard him breathe in, aware that he knew precisely how turned on she was. As he leaned back, his eyes met hers with a devilish arch of an eyebrow.

“Okay,” she whispered. “You can pay.”

“Thank you, Aislen,” his smile smouldered.

June edged closer to Aislen, wrapping her fingers around Aislen’s upper arm. “I think I’m going to combust,” she whispered. (That was… the hottest thing that I’ve ever seen.) “Are they always that intense?”

“Yes,” Aislen fought to reinforce June’s bubble against her touch. June was just as turned on as Aislen by the display, and the other woman’s vanilla sexual fantasies were distracting. Unlike the Triquetra, Aislen admitted to herself, she was entirely straight. It was very weird, therefore, to have another woman’s sexual desires in her head. She pushed them out and tried to subtly disengage June’s grip without insulting her.

“All three of them?” June wanted to know, every detail furnishing her fantasies.

“All three of them.”

Rhett had overheard the conversation, and his werewolf senses could detect June’s reaction, as well as Aislen’s, and his shoulders shook with silent laughter as he finished the transaction and pushed the trolley out to Aislen’s car. He had parked right next to her.

They divided the paint supplies between the two boots and then he caught Aislen by the hip, drawing her against him. (Fight, Rhett. She stayed. She listened. You are making progress. Fight. Don’t give up yet. She is ours.) “I will see you back at your father’s house,” he murmured against her lips, delivering a grazing kiss over them. “Drive safe.”

Aislen sank into the driver’s seat. She needed to take a deep breath before starting the ignition. As she turned her head to check the rear view before reversing, she met June’s eyes. “I know,” she answered the other woman’s unspoken demand. “All the details.”