Page 56 of Labor of Love

Bracken’s ire deflated faster than he could hold on to it. “You’re letting me kick you out of your room?”

Tanner shrugged. “I’m letting you do some rearranging. It’s just a room. I’m not attached.” He opened the door, gesturing inside. “Have a little rest. I’ll be back with some new sheets and a few other things.”

And then he had the audacity to walk away. With a flannel shirt that wasn’t quite long enough in the back to hide how his dark denim clung to his muscled ass.

He was out the front door before Bracken could think of the proper obscenities to yell after him, so Bracken slipped into the familiar bedroom. He took a seat on the bed, grabbing one of Tanner’s pillows and hugging it against his belly.

It smelled like the human—warm and manly—and that was nice. But the rest was…wrong. All wrong.

Bracken’s bedroom back home had been beautiful. He’d painted it a light yellow—bright and lovely—and there’d been greenery everywhere. Creeping vines and potted flowers on every surface. Colorful silks had draped the walls, with plentiful cushions on the bed and the floor for lounging.

Tanner’s bedroom was like the rest of his property: simple and rugged and foreign to Bracken’s senses. Dark wooden bed. Dark wooden wardrobe. Dark-blue sheets and a dark-blue quilt. White walls and not a plant in sight.

For the first time, Bracken missed his home.

He hadn’t minded so much in the immediate aftermath. If anything, he’d been happy to have his betrothal fall apart. Bracken had abhorred Court. He wasn’t built for it, too thin-skinned by half. He was quick to anger and easily incensed by the smallest things, which was a complete faux pas for the straitlaced fae.

And then Bracken would get embarrassed by his emotional blunders, which was even worse, because it made him defensive and snippy in all the wrong ways.

He’d been glad to be done with it. And done with Oberley, his betrothed, who was cold and horrid and had delighted in parading his multitude of gorgeous, stone-faced paramours past Bracken at every occasion.

But Bracken’s relief didn’t make it any less frightening to be with child so unexpectedly. A half-human child, at that. And it didn’t make it any less frightening to be dependent on another person, a man Bracken barely knew.

The attraction was still there; that was clear enough. The one that had driven Bracken to madness. Driven him to come back to a bar he’d only meant to stop into to use the bathroom. Driven him to return three nights in a row. Driven him to proposition a strange barkeep, one who treated each guest with the same gracious charm, no matter their species or appearance or attitude.

Bracken’s body clearly didn’t know what was best for it, if it was still feeling this—thisurge.

Tanner’s palm on Bracken’s stomach tonight had been hot as a brand, and the urge to lean into it had been so strong that Bracken had jumped away. It had been so long since he’d been touched by someone.

Someone who’d just up andleft him here. Alone. With his thoughts.

Bracken inhaled big huffs of the human’s pillow and plotted the man’s murder.

He’d worked himself into quite a tizzy by the time the front door opened again, close to an hour after Tanner had left.

The sound of boots tromping thundered down the hall—did humans not know how to walk with any grace?—and then Tanner was at the open bedroom door, panting like he’d run up the stairs.

Bracken opened his mouth to chew the human’s head right off his body. Then he saw what Tanner held in one hand. “Is that an…orchid?”

Tanner glanced down at the delicate purple plant, as if he himself was surprised by what he was carrying. “Oh. Yes. I thought— Well, fae like to be surrounded by plants, right?”

For the first time, Tanner sounded uncertain. Bracken had only seen him sure and confident. Even with the shock of a surprise pregnancy, Tanner hadn’t faltered.

Tanner cleared his throat, lifting the orchid. “This was what I could find on such short notice. But I always close the bar on Mondays—I figured we could go to the nursery together and you could pick out more.” He raised the overflowing bag he was carrying in his other hand. “This was also the best I could do, but there are some pretty fabrics that might be more to your taste than what I had on hand. And some soft blankets. I wasn’t sure—do omegas nest during pregnancy?”

Bracken swallowed through a thick throat. It took him a moment to speak. “Toward the end, yes. Before the…arrival.”

“Oh, well…” Tanner shrugged. “They can stay in the closet until then. And I can also paint on Monday, if you like. If you want something other than white walls.”

Bracken stared at the orchid. It was so pretty with its delicate little petals. And he could see hints of the fabrics containedwithin the bag. Silks, he was pretty sure. Yellow and purple and light green.

Well, this was… This was…

Bracken burst into tears. Huge, ugly, heaving sobs that he couldn’t hold back for an instant longer. He ducked his head and pressed it into the pillow he held, trying to hide his face.

The mattress dipped. Tanner, coming to sit beside him. “Hey,” Tanner soothed. “Hey, now. Sh, sh, sh.”

And at any other time, Bracken might have chastised the man for treating him like a twitchy horse in the stables, but he couldn’t summon the words at the moment. He was too busy crying like there was no tomorrow.

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