Page 100 of Love & Heart Braking

Bouncing off the bed, I stepped toward the bathroom. Devereaux exited, towel wrapped around his hips. Abort mission. I swerved out of the way, pretending that the kitchen was my destination.

He rubbed at his hair with a hand towel. “Coming to perve?”

“Hmm, what? Oh, no. I totally respect your naked privacy.”

“That’s a shame. I was hoping you would.” Devereaux leaned against the wall.

I drew out the shepherd’s pie from the oven. “Sorry to disappoint. You know, you shouldn’t lean everywhere. It’s distracting.”

“Is that right?” He inhaled deeply. “What’s cooking?”

I shrugged, and my off-the-shoulder T-shirt lived up to its name. “Just comfort food. I was a bit hungover today.”

“Keeping up with Soleil?”

“I’ve only tried that once. With my lifespan in mind, I vowed to never do so again.”

He chuckled. “Predators burn alcohol off quicker. Though I wouldn’t have personal experience with it.”

“Your organs will thank you for not pickling them in cheap wine and espresso martinis,” I said solemnly. “Want some pie?”

“The hunger part of being a predator I’m familiar with,” he said drily. “Please.”

I slid a smaller portion onto my plate, then stacked his high. “Manners like that will get you far.”

“How far?” Devereaux left me in the kitchen to dig through his duffel in the living area. He pulled on a black T-shirt. The towel was still on.

I called. “Use them and find out.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He angled away as he pulled on underwear and jeans. But not before I got that peek I’d been after. Firm. Muscled without being bulky. That was my kind of martini. Yeehaw.

“Like what you see?” he asked.

I grabbed the plates. “Sure do, handsome.”

I carried the plates to the small living area, and we ate in silence. Devereaux finished before me and jerked his head to the bed. A corner of the manual was sticking out from under the bedspread. “That the tome?”

“Sure is. I was searching up my new arrow. See if I can’t figure out what it is. The writing is all faded.”

He tapped next to his eye. “Predator vision. I can help if you don’t mind me seeing what’s written.”

I swallowed the last mouthful of the potato, cheese, and meat. “I truly never thought about that.”

Devereaux did the dishes while I grabbed the tome and laid it out on the coffee table.

He wandered back in, and I glanced up. “Listen to this. On the subject of heart braking—”

“Heart breaking?” Devereaux sat beside me.

“No, braking. Like a bike. Maybe it’s an error. But whoever wrote this repeated the term across this page.”

“Could be an old way of spelling.”

True. I read the passage:

On the subject of heart braking, little is known.

Because unlike other gifts bestowed by the gracious power of Venus, the power to heart brake is only granted to one descendant of her line at a time.

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