“You helped.”
“Me? I don’t remember casting out any lures for you.”
“You were my friend. The first friend I ever had who knew what I was, what I had, and accepted me for me. You gave me advice, you listened, you cared. And all that helped me be smart and strong enough to, well, cast those lures myself.”
“Boy, you owe me.”
Sasha laughed, gave Riley a one-armed hug. “I do. I’ll pay you back, in part, by making breakfast. Since we’re in Ireland, I’ll go with Bran’s specialty of a full Irish.”
“I’ll take it. I want to shower first. Didn’t have a chance after the war.”
“No rush. I want to walk and wander around the house first. I barely took anything in last night.”
“Does Bran play the piano?”
“I don’t know. Why?”
“He’s got a beaut. Viennese parlor grand, mid-nineteenth century.”
“Do you know everything?”
“Pretty much. He’s also got a cello, violins, violas, flutes, and an exceptional collection of bodhran drums. He must play some of it.”
“It’s never come up, so I’ll have to ask. Do you play anything?”
“Piano, sure, though it’s been a while. And he’s got a game room area over there that kicks major ass. And one small cathedral of a library.”
“I think you’ve seen more of the house than I have.”
“I didn’t have sex.”
“There is that.”
Sasha turned as Annika—flowing hair, flowy dress, bare feet—came in.
“Riley!” As if it had been years, Annika dashed over, threw her arms around Riley.
“Yeah, good morning to you, too.”
“We were worried. Doyle said not to, because you’d come back. But we worried. Now you’re here! Good morning.”
“How can you look like that first thing? Without coffee?”
“I don’t like the coffee. But I like the mornings. Sawyer will rest a little longer, but he feels much better. He felt rested enough to mate, and I was very gentle.”
“Sex.” Riley shook her head. “It’s always about sex. Tell me more—no, tell me more after I get that shower.”
“I like sometimes to be above—on top,” she corrected. “On top when it should be gentle and slow. Then I can have many orgasms.”
“Right.” Riley let out a breath. “This may be a longer shower than initially planned.”
When Sasha laughed and Riley hurried out, Annika offered a puzzled smile. “I don’t understand. Does she need to get more clean?”
“No, she meant . . . I’ll explain, but I’m going to need more coffee.”
• • •
The next best thing to a hot shower was a hot meal. By the time Sasha—with an assist from Annika—put the meal together, the team had gathered in the kitchen.