Chapter 103: Her Husband Had Plans for Closing Time

Dove kept the light set for four Favor and wrote it under personal equipment. The solar mat stayed in Sprout’s shop, and she didn’t let it turn one sensible purchase into a whole new list of things she apparently couldn’t live without.

The organizer checked her cargo list at the counter. Their six cans of chicken, four bags of rice, and box of beans were ready. Two extra cans would pay for joining the trip. The sale cargo stayed hers until she agreed to a price.

When he finished, she shut the shutters and turned the sign around. Thorne stopped beside her before she could find another reason to keep working.

"Put it down, Dove. You’ve been on your feet all day." Thorne held out his hand for the crate. She surrendered it with a sigh. "You’re awfully bossy for a man who likes being on a leash." Thorne grinned and lowered his voice. "Only if you’re holding it." Her feet still hurt, but she briefly forgot why she had been complaining.

Edrik laughed from his cot and lifted both feet while Dove swept beneath it. She nearly told him to stop enjoying her husband being impossible, but he caught the broom when she tried to do one more pass.

"The floor will survive tonight," he said. "Go sit down."

"Listen to the pair of you. One more order and I’m charging rent for all that attitude."

Neither looked worried. Dove let Edrik take the broom and sat down before her aching feet made the decision for her. Thorne pulled over a second chair for them, then brought her a cup without asking her to get back up. She watched him cross the room, suddenly too tired to pretend she hadn’t needed that.

Dinner was chicken stew thick with potatoes and carrots, rice on the side, and sliced bread warmed at the shared stove. Thorne filled the men’s bowls properly before setting hers down, saving her the argument. Dove ate the first few bites in silence, listening to the ordinary noises behind the shutters.

Outside, workers dragged tarps over their loads while rain ticked against the shutters. Inside, Edrik stole a potato from Thorne’s plate and Thorne stole it back without either of them interrupting Dove’s complaint about damp socks. She wanted more evenings like this, with enough dinner and people who actually listened when she talked.

"Tomorrow’s personal task is two kisses for your mate," Sprout offered.

"He already gets more than that. Did you think we were shaking hands in there?" she thought, keeping her face straight when Thorne asked what was funny. She kissed his cheek instead of explaining. Sprout could count genuine reactions afterward; it wasn’t getting to choose the moment.

Dove glanced at her packed bag and found herself wondering whether the next place had a window, a decent shower, and considerably fewer people named Saffra.

"I think I’m excited," she said. Both men looked at her, and she scowled before either could turn it into a ceremony. "Don’t ruin it. I could still be furious by breakfast."

Thorne’s smile was slow. "We can pack for both."

Edrik had repaired the loose handle on her bag while she was selling. He set it beside her chair without asking whether she noticed. Dove noticed anyway. The new stitching was rough but firm, with the strap shortened enough that it wouldn’t catch her knee when she walked.

She caught his hand before he moved away. "You could have told me."

"You were busy," he said. Dove ran her fingers over the new stitching. "And you were thinking about me."

"I was," Edrik said, meeting her eyes. Dove squeezed his fingers and kept him beside her chair for another moment, her smart reply forgotten.

After dinner, Edrik took the dishes to the shared wash area while Dove checked the rear room. The bed platform stood beneath the shuttered window, the same small bed she had been desperate to keep a few days ago. Now her clothes were folded beside her pack instead of scattered where she could find them half asleep.

Thorne stopped behind her. "You can miss it and still leave."

"I know." She picked up her little fox plush, then put it back on the pillow. "I just wanted to sleep here without somebody deciding they could take it away."

Thorne’s arms came around her. Dove leaned back against him and looked at the bare shelf where she’d been keeping her comb. Leaving the Warren had meant somebody deciding she didn’t deserve to stay. This time, her bags were packed because she’d packed them. She rested her hands over his and let that sink in.

"We got to decide this time," she said. "Yes, we did," he said. That was the part she wanted to keep. She turned in his arms and tugged his shirt until he bent far enough for her to kiss him. His hands settled at her waist, warm and familiar, and she smiled against his mouth when his tail touched her leg.

"Very patient today," she told him. "Almost suspiciously good."

"I’m hoping you remember it." "Oh, I remember. Especially the part where you let me talk instead of growling through the whole meeting."

"I growled once," Thorne said. Dove patted his cheek. "At the chair scraping. A terrifying opponent."

He laughed, and she liked that she could get that sound out of him after everything else the day had asked for. She guided him to sit on the bed, climbed into his lap, and let him rest his chin beside her hair while she undid the tie at the back of her neck.

Edrik returned beyond the door. Thorne looked toward the sound, then back at Dove, waiting for what she wanted.

"Close it," she said softly. "Tonight I want just us."

He did. Edrik answered their good night without a joke or a disappointed pause. Dove was grateful for that too, though she had no intention of opening the door to explain it.

Thorne came back grinning. Dove pulled him onto the bed and laughed into his shoulder when he landed beside her. For a few hours, they had nowhere else to be. She kissed him again, taking her time, until his teasing answer faded against her mouth.