13. Chapter 13 The Table #2
“I used some of my share from the Cold Hollow loot. It was totally worth it.” She picked up one of the dungeon-grade tips and held it between two fingers, rotating it in the window light.
She was leaning forward over the table, eyes bright.
“The bowstring’s the real upgrade. Sinew-core, rated for eighty pounds of draw.
My old one was starting to fray after the yeti fights. ”
“Good timing before The Splits,” Sif said, and Liv nodded quickly.
“That’s what I was thinking. Harder targets, faster resets, longer range. I want to be ready.”
“You’re ready,” I said. “You’ve been ready.”
Liv’s ears rotated forward and trembled. She didn’t say anything. She just smiled, and the scar through her right eyebrow shifted with it.
Brenna came back with three ales and a basket of bread. She set the drinks down, glanced at the arrows laid out on the table, and paused.
“Arrows at my tables. That’s new.” She turned to Liv. “Are those dungeon-grade?”
“You know your arrowheads as well as how to eat pussy,” Liv said.
Brenna snorted. “I know what the adventurers who come through here carry.” She set the bread basket down. “She’s got better gear than most of the rangers I see. You certainly had more than our friend Daniel here when he arrived. He had a satchel and a look on his face like he’d lost a bet.”
“I was completely useless,” I added.
“And now look at you.” Her eyes held mine for a moment longer than they should have. “Stonethread robe. Healer’s belt. Two beautiful women and a table full of weapons. I’d say you figured it out.”
“He had help,” Sif said.
“I’m sure he did.” Brenna’s mouth curved, and she met Sif’s gaze. “I’m just trying to make him feel good about himself.”
“It’s working,” I replied, then took a big gulp of my ale.
Sif laughed. It was a short, sharp bark of approval, and her blue eyes went bright. “I like her.”
“Everyone likes me,” Brenna said. “That’s my whole problem. I’ll be back in a minute.”
She left. I let myself look. Her ass remained as glorious as ever.
“She’s gorgeous,” I said.
Sif raised an eyebrow. “Oh, he says it out loud now.”
“I’ve always said it out loud.”
“You have not. You think it, and then your ears turn red, and then you change the subject. I’ve been tracking the pattern.”
“I said it about you this morning.”
“You said ‘you look good.’ That’s not the same thing.” Sif picked up a piece of bread and tore it in half. “Gorgeous is a specific word. It requires commitment.”
“You’re gorgeous,” I said to Sif. “Liv’s gorgeous. Brenna’s gorgeous. I’m committing.”
“To the word or the women?” Liv said, and her ears were shaking with the effort of not laughing.
“Yes.”
“He’s getting bold,” Liv said to Sif. “Is this a stonethread thing? Does the robe come with newfound confidence?”
“I think it’s more than that,” Sif said. “The confidence is coming from being surrounded by beautiful beastkin women.”
“I am surrounded,” I said. “That does something for one’s confidence. I won’t disagree with you.”
“I’m the only beastkin you’ve fucked though,” Liv said. “That makes me extra special.”
I tousled her hair playfully. “You are my special girl.”
Sif made a gagging sound. “Liv, get over it. You aren’t that special. He’s fucked Brenna’s brains out twice.”
“One of those times included me, thank you very much.”
“Blah, whatever,” Sif scoffed.
“You’re just mad because he hasn’t stretched you out yet.”
“Liv!” I replied with wide eyes.
Sif mock-sniffled. “Danny boy, she’s hurting my feelings.”
“Am I wrong, Sif? Let me know,” Liv persisted.
“Listen, if I wanted Danny’s cock in me, it would be in me. He wouldn’t deny this body. Isn’t that right, Daniel?”
Brenna came back with three bowls of stew and set them down in the gaps between arrowheads. She’d heard some of it, because the look she gave Sif was knowing.
“Awesome, saved by the pretty waitress,” I said, flashing her a smile.
“What are you fussing about?” Brenna said.
“Daniel’s confidence. I think it’s the new robe,” Liv said.
Brenna studied me, then the robe. She tilted her head and made a show of considering it, and the freckle on her cheekbone moved with the motion. “The robe helps. But it’s not the robe.” She picked up the empty bread basket. “It wasn’t the robe that got me in the sack.”
Sif leaned back in her chair with a grin that had too many teeth in it. “Brenna. Question.”
“I’m not sure I want to answer it.”
“Do you think Daniel would benefit from being spanked?”
I put my spoon down. “Sif.”
“It’s a sincere question. We were discussing it this morning,” Sif said.
“We really weren’t discussing if… I should be spanked,” I said.
Brenna’s expression shifted from amused to interested. She leaned one hip against the edge of the table and crossed her arms over the cloth on her forearm. “I didn’t know he liked that.”
“I haven’t been spanked. Well, except for when I was a kid. I haven’t been spanked by a woman. I don’t know why we’re talking about this.”
“Look into his eyes. He wants a pink tushie.” Sif ate a piece of bread, eyes on Brenna. “He can deflect all he wants.”
Brenna nodded. “He’s a deflector. You have to pin him down.” She paused. Reconsidered her word choice. She didn’t change it. “Figuratively.”
“Is there a non-figurative option?” Liv said.
“There’s always a non-figurative option,” Brenna said. “Some of us have explored it. Well, I would have explored it.”
“I’m sitting right here,” I said.
“We know,” Liv said. She patted my arm. “You’re not exactly running.”
“The point,” Sif said, “is that three women are discussing how to handle you and you haven’t left the table. That says something.”
“It says the stew is good.”
“It says more than that,” Brenna said, uncrossing her arms and straightening.
“I have other tables. But I want you to know that I am going to think about this conversation for the rest of my shift, and I’m going to enjoy it.
” She gave me one last look, and whatever she was thinking, she kept most of it to herself.
“You picked well, Daniel. Or they picked well. Either way.”
She and Sif and Liv shared a look I wasn’t part of. Brenna touched my shoulder as she turned, her fingers pressing once through the stonethread, and left.
Liv dipped bread into her stew and grinned at me. “She’s right, you know. About the pinning-down part.”
“Nobody’s pinning anyone down at the Brown Hen.”
“Not at the Brown Hen,” Sif agreed. Her tone implied other locations remained available.
We ate. The stew was thick and salted and exactly what the afternoon needed.
Liv packed her arrows back into the oiled cloth between bites, handling the dungeon-grade tips with the care of someone who understood what they’d cost. Sif ate steadily, checking the room between bites, the other patrons, the door, the windows, so smoothly it just read as curiosity.
I finished my bowl and leaned back with the ale.
Through the window, the avenue moved at its midday pace.
Somewhere in the market district, Bjorna and Nott were turning Cold Hollow loot into coin.
Somewhere in this building, Garric was still yelling about something.
At this table, Liv was explaining the weight distribution of sinew-core bowstrings to Sif, who was asking questions that were either genuine interest or perfectly disguised jabs, and I couldn’t tell which.
Brenna came back to clear the bowls. She stacked them on her forearm with the skill of a woman who’d been doing it for years.
“Same time tomorrow?” she said. It was directed at all of us, but she looked at me last and held it.
“We can hope, but who knows where the road takes us,” I said.
“Well if it’s not here, be careful.”
“How much do we owe you?” I asked.
“This one’s on me. Consider it a thank you for making my morning a little more interesting.” She turned to go, then stopped and looked over her shoulder. “And Daniel?”
“Yeah?”
“Next time you come in here looking like that, at least have the decency to sit where I can see you from the bar. You look good.”
She walked away.
Sif raised her ale. “Here’s to free lunch and good-looking healers!”
I shook my head. “Yeah, the free lunch part ain’t happening.” I tossed some coin on the table to cover the meal and tip. “She works too hard.”
Liv’s ears fluttered. “Daniel is so chivalrous. Refusing to let a lady pay.”
Sif balled up her napkin and put it on the empty plate. “Liv, don’t make his head any bigger. It’s already big enough. He’s fortunate that healers don’t wear helmets.”
“Yeah, yeah, whatever. Let’s go. The girls are probably back by now,” I replied, sliding my chair back.
Liv clapped her hands lightly. “Goodie! Hopefully we have some more coin coming our way. I want a cute huntress skirt I saw down the street in a shop window. It’s pretty short but it covers my goods. Plus, I want to make sure Daniel’s eyes stay on me.”
Sif stood and motioned to the rabbit-kin. “See, Daniel? She’s a whore.”