Laurann Dohner: Brawn

“What is a widow?”

“My husband had a defective heart. A widow is a woman whose husband died.”

Brawn leaned against the wall. “I am sorry. Our people were put down too if they were found to be defective physically by Mercile Industries.”

She felt punched in the gut. “They did that? Those assholes killed anyone with physical defects? Jesus. No. My husband wasn’t murdered. We don’t just end someone’s life if they aren’t healthy. He had a heart defect and died when a large vessel inside his heart ruptured. It happened very quickly. He just grabbed his chest, gasped and passed out. He probably didn’t know what happened before it was over. The doctor I spoke to assured me that he wouldn’t have suffered and death happened within minutes.”

“The doctors could not fix his defect before his death?”

“We didn’t know about it. It was a rare defect they only discovered afterward when they performed the autopsy.” She took a deep breath to prevent getting choked up. She usually did that when she remembered Bradley and avoided discussing the grim details. A change in subject was needed to avoid tears. “Are you hungry?”

“Starving.”

“I’ll get out of the kitchen and let you fix your meal. Trey said you needed cast-iron skillets and he put one on the stove for you to use. There are more under that cabinet there.” She pointed. “Make yourself at home.”

He nodded. “Are you leaving now?”

She inwardly flinched, realizing he didn’t understand the situation. “Actually, about that…” She took a breath. “I’m not moving into the main house with my father. He’d drive me nuts and trust me when I tell you that you’re better off here than living with him. He’s kind of a jerk sometimes and tends to be super controlling. I am staying here. You’ll hardly see me and I keep a pretty busy schedule.” She pulled air into her lungs. “It’s a big house and we’ll make it work. It will almost be as if I’m not here.”

He gawked at her. “I’m to live with you?” A frown dipped his lips.

“I’m really sorry that this isn’t what you expected but no one asked me before your living arrangements were made. My father had no right to offer you my house but I’m willing to share it with you. There’s a spare house key hanging from a peg on the right side of the front door. Take it and use it.”

His chin lifted and his shoulders braced back enough to puff out that massive chest of his. “I understand. I’m here to learn about humans and to adjust to being around them. This will be a good experience to share a house with one. You’ve taught me a lot in such a short time and I look forward to learning more. Thank you.”

She had to give him a lot of credit for taking the news better than she expected. “Good. I’ll leave you to cook your meal now. I’m going to return to the family room and get shit-face drunk. You’ll discover that I do that after I have a blowout with my dad. He drives me to drink.”

She spun and walked away before he could question her further. All that talk about her husband left her feeling sad and vulnerable. Intense pain squeezed her heart as she walked into the family room, sat at the bar and poured another drink.

The shit part was that her father had been right about Bradley but she couldn’t ever admit that aloud because her dad would never allow her to forget it. He’d rub it in and use it as an example in every argument they had. That would be so often that it wasn’t funny. She downed another shot, closed her eyes and hissed from the burn of the booze sliding down into her belly.

Brawn watched Becca leave the kitchen and sighed. He knew what shit-faced drunk meant. She planned to drink to excess, get completely inebriated and he hoped his new house mate wasn’t one of those humans who did it often. He hated the smell of alcohol and he’d seen movies of drunk people enough to wish to avoid them.

This was not going the way he had thought it would. Not at all. He’d been promised a secluded home, privacy, yet instead he lived with a human woman. Worse, he found her attractive. The memory of her bent over the bed he’d sleep in later would stick with him for a while. She had a curved, lush body, very unlike Species women. She appeared supple, fragile and would probably scream if he ever unleashed his desire on her.

Her hand had been small and very soft when he’d held it after their introduction. The idea of having her touch him with them made his cock twitch. Of course the thought of pinning her under him only made it worse. He’d probably crush her under his weight or accidentally break her somehow.

He softly growled as he moved around the kitchen to familiarize himself with it. He pulled out a few steaks, heated the skillet and found a plate, then got the tongs to turn his steaks as he seared them.

He sat at the island eating while thoughts of Becca Oberto plagued him. She was a complication he wasn’t sure he wanted to deal with. He could ask her father to allow him to live in the bigger house near the road. It would simplify things but that would be cowardly. He lifted his gaze to the fridge, studying the photos that were stuck on it—Becca with different humans. She smiled in all of them and appeared happy. It was a confusing contradiction if she had turned to drinking a lot of alcohol. He wasn’t too sure of his human facts but it implied she had serious issues. Her mate dying would do it.

He finished his dinner, cleaned up the mess and washed his dishes. He heard music when he turned off the water and dried his hands. It was too early to go to bed and his room didn’t have a television. He’d need to ask for one, he missed his cable channels already and regretted volunteering to take the mission for his people.

Someone needed to work with the human task force though. A Species female would have been perfect for the job but he hadn’t wanted to expose any of them to human males. Everything he’d learned so far about them made him believe they’d harass her. It was a man’s world outside the NSO gates, or so he’d been told. Females were to be protected at all costs. The idea of allowing one to go into danger made his entire body stiffen. He’d tough it out and would deal with whatever came his way. Better him than one of the females.

He worried about Becca as he put his foot on the bottom step to return to his room. She wasn’t a big female and a memory of a movie he’d watched made him turn back. She could drink enough to become violently ill and he wanted to check on her health.

He followed the rock music and paused in the archway to the family room. Becca sat at the bar with a bottle and a tiny glass in front of her. She seemed to sense him and turned her head. The wide grin she gave him and her overly bright, blue eyes assured him that she’d drunk too much. She waved him over, her movements clumsy.

“Hello, handsome. Wanna drink?”

Her voice slurred a little and it shocked him that she’d called him that. “My name is Brawn. I don’t know of any Species who chose to be called that.”

A giggle made her shoulders shake and she snorted softly. “I know your name. You’re good-looking but you know that, right?”

She found him attractive. That fact left him speechless.

She patted the seat next to her. “Wanna drink? It doesn’t burn going down anymore.”

He inched into the room. “I don’t drink alcohol but thank you for the offer. How many have you had?”

“I don’t know.” She nearly slipped off the chair as she adjusted on the seat. “Not enough. I’m still conscious.”

“Drinking alcohol inebriates you, slows your response time and makes logic difficult to practice.”

She laughed. “You are so cute.”

His eyebrows lifted. No one had ever called him that before. Ferocious, a bastard and other choice names but never something that implied that definition. Worry ate at him more over her mental state.