Chapter 42 Monroe
MONROE
I’m in long black boots and a dusty-rose corduroy skirt with gold buttons running up the middle. If it weren’t for the black turtleneck toning down the look, I’d be giving Briar every indication that this was a date. Staring at my reflection, I remind myself it’s not.
The rev of an engine draws me into the hallway, and I fix a few hairpins to pull back the mint wisps around my face. I search for Cherri as I descend the stairs, but there’s no sign of her.
Nerves flutter beneath my skin, my body buzzing with energy. With magic. I send some wind in the direction of the potted plants taking up the corner of our living room, the leaves and buds rustling with renewed vigor.
I’m not sure why I’m so nervous.
It’s just dinner and research. That’s it. Everything is under control.
Eating a meal together and getting his event-planning assistance sends exactly the right signal. We’re friends. Research partners. Research partners who happen to know the sounds and facial expressions the other makes when they come.
Absolutely nothing could go wrong.
I resolved to stop running at the end of spring. Running from my afterlife was no better than being dead, and I’ve already spent months mourning the Monroe of the past. It’s time to nurture the seeds planted here. I didn’t ask for this bond between us, but neither did Briar.
Our roots were tangled by a divine hand.
This tether isn’t going anywhere, so we might as well find a way to move forward with it. As friends, as colleagues, as solstice playmates—who knows? But it is time I start figuring it out.
Knock-knock.
The thuds send goosebumps skipping down the few inches of bare skin on the tops of my legs. I tug the hem of my skirt, flattening it one last time, and splay my hand on the wood, taking a few deep breaths before opening the front door.
Briar stands on the porch, dark-lavender hair hanging over to one side, perfectly coiffed. Instead of his usual T-shirt, jeans, and leather jacket, he’s wearing a rich-emerald button-up, black slacks, and dress shoes.
It’s just dinner and research.
“Nice to know you understand how to follow directions,” I say, keeping my tone playful.
A purple brow lifts above Briar’s wire frames. “I’ll have you know I take instructions quite well.”
Powdered sugar and vanilla swirl on the breeze. I clench my thighs together.
“Good to know, Sir Thumps-A-Lot.” He chuckles as he holds the door open so I can step out onto the porch with him. Pressing up onto the balls of my boots, I flick a straggling strand of hair back into place. “If you play your cards right, maybe there’ll be an ear scratch in it for you.”
“Well, with a promise like that, now you have my undivided attention.” He shuts the door gently behind me, waiting while I ensure it’s locked before offering me the crook of his arm. “Shall we?”
Parked at the end of the walking path is his floracycle, which he gets on, scooting up to make room for me. It whirs to life, vibrating beneath us, my nerves intensifying as he pulls away from the curb, petals spilling from the exhaust, dancing through the breeze.
I inhale, clasping my arms around him. Vanilla musk and cedarwood flood my nostrils on the ride toward Florezca’s City Center.
He smells intoxicating, so delicious I almost opt to skip dinner in favor of something else mouthwatering.
It’s a heady thrill having him so near. Touching him.
Even though there’s nothing sexual in the way I clutch his torso, I haven’t been this close to him since he found me in the mortal world.
All that followed at the Solstice Center was easily the hottest thing I’ve ever experienced. The level of fantasy I’d believed only existed in fiction.
The floracycle jostles us over the cobblestone streets of City Center. I tighten my hold. Pressed up against him, I wait for my heart to beat furiously in my chest at the proximity. But it doesn’t. It can’t. Yet somehow, those elusive butterflies vibrate through me.
This is not a date.
…But maybe I want it to be?
His chin dips a bit to the right and I’m slightly panicked he can sense every emotion rolling through me, but he keeps his focus on the path ahead.
We break at the wall of hedges blocking The Warren, and once we’re both off the floracycle, it disappears from the street.
“How long have you been a Radix?” I ask, tugging down my skirt.
“Four years.”
“What made you decide to do that?” I tuck a few strands of wind-tousled hair behind my ear, certain after our ride here that it’s standing in all directions. “Were you a professor before then?”
“Yes. At first, I did two springs each year, but then I started teaching and only did one for the last handful before becoming a Radix.” He clears his throat. “I knew I wanted to live in The Nest and raise sprouts like how my parents had done with me, Corrigan, and Dani.”
“Do you have kids?”
There’s a stutter to his step, but only because he stops walking and meets my stare. The vivid lavender of his irises twinkles under the lamplight.
“I do. Four daughters.” Pride shimmers through his tone and he smiles. It’s so warm and natural, effortlessly paternal. “Taylor, Lilliana, Millie, and Juniper. They are ten—going on thirty—seven, and four. The seven-year-olds are twins.”
“And you’ve raised them by yourself?”
I expect him to be more nervous telling me.
Maybe because that’s how single fathers tend to be in the mortal realm—at least the ones in their thirties and forties on dating apps.
Didn’t want to deter a prospective match, I suppose.
And to be fair, I’d never dated one. Not that I dated much at all after Jay.
“I wouldn’t say by myself.” His brows lift and he chuckles a bit to himself. “My parents and siblings have been there for us every step of the way.”
“It takes a village.” After all, I had parents, but it’d taken more than their support to grow into the woman I was today.
“It really does,” he agrees with a nod.
We start toward the row of shops and restaurants, and he tells me a bit about each of his daughters.
The joy rolling off him is infectious. As we stroll along the row, I notice there are no signs.
Instead, each door is outlined in vibrant flowers with a narrow corridor leading to the back of the building.
You’d only be able to see what each one is by physically entering.
I try my best to peek as far back as I can into each one.
“Do your siblings have children as well?”
It’s strange to think of him as a parent, but mainly because I fought thinking about him at all for so long.
Giving in to any curiosity about Briar’s life would’ve felt like an invitation for more.
Something I’d refused to entertain. Now, it seems essential to learn as much as I can about the harbinger I’m mated to, even if I’m still not ready to commit to the bond between us.
“Nope.” And from his wide-eyed grimace, I gather they don’t particularly want them. “They prefer fun auntie and Didi status.”
I hold back my laughter, picturing his sister as a fun auntie after spending a season under her watchful eye. That was something I’d have to see to believe. In Dani’s case, I could see them enjoying being dubbed cool in the eyes of their nieces. “Did you always know you wanted to be a father?”
“Sort of.” He shrugs and slips his hand into his pockets.
“As difficult as it was coming to terms with being separated from my earthside parents, I had parents here who loved me and gave me a great life. I consider myself very lucky in that way. It seemed like a no-brainer to want to give beautiful childhoods to those who had little to no time earthside.”
I blink back the prickling sensation behind my eyes, willing myself not to start off this non-date with tears. “It must have been hard being stuck so far away from them.”
My voice cracks and I nibble my bottom lip.
“It was. My girls are everything to me, and it was the longest I’d ever been away…
but I knew they were in great hands,” he says with a sigh.
“My family and friends stepped in until they could get me back. That’s why Dani was punished, assuming when I didn’t make it back that the Storms had taken me. ”
My steps halt. “Taken? Like kidnapped?”
All the cryptic warnings make a lot more sense now.
“There have been some disappearances over the last few years. It’s why we’ve been keeping such a close eye on the Blooms who are out bringing spring. The Rescue Riders have always existed, but it was for a couple stuck harbingers here and there. Not for this.”
He begins strolling down the row again. There are only a handful more doorways ahead.
“Seems like having to repeat training was a bit of a steep punishment.”
“Not really.” He stops and his voice lowers, as if he doesn’t want anyone else on the nearly empty side street to hear.
“Fate wanted to talk with the Storms’ leadership, but Dani was impatient.
They traversed into the mortal realm on their own and went after the Storms. As you can guess, it didn’t go well.
” Briar gestures toward the next door with his hand. “Here we are.”
Spices waft into the corridor as we enter the building, familiar and mouthwatering. There are a few other harbingers seated at tables. In front of them, various mismatched bowls are spread out and piled with food.
“Is this—Thai?”
My stomach rumbles. Loudly.
“Is that okay?” Briar’s attention drops to my abdomen and concern crosses his face. “I assumed from all the takeout it was your favorite.”
“It is.” I laugh, and his worry recedes. He pulls out a chair for me. My butt’s in the seat in an instant. “I never thought I’d have it again. Guess you were watching me pretty closely, huh?”
I grab the glass of water set on the table and take a sip.
“I’m sorry. But in my defense, I was a captive audience.” His cheeks flare with pink and his expression becomes sheepish.
I choke on my water mid-gulp. “At least that better explains my nightstand contents spread out like a solstice buffet.”
We both laugh, but I don’t miss the sudden sugary scent wafting in the air or the vibrant lavender flashing across his stare.
Interesting. Blowing out a breath, and in desperate need of a change of subject, I purse my lips and scan over the other tables, scoping out what looks good before picking up the menu. Everything sounds amazing.
He leans over like he’s trying to see my menu even though he has his own in front of him. “What are you thinking of ordering?”
After waffling between drunken noodles and shrimp curry, I decide to get both.
Briar gets pineapple fried rice, pad see ew with beef, and an order of lettuce wraps for us to split.
The food arrives in minutes, along with iced thai tea that refills itself when you reach the bottom. It’s magic—literally.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” Briar asks, his dinner clutched in his chopsticks. A few noodles plop onto his plate.
“I don’t know. I’ve only ever seen you eat bok choy and hay.
” It’s strange to think of him curled in my lap nibbling greens when he’s a head taller than me, shoving pad see ew in his mouth across the table.
Even if I’d imagined my Sir Thumps-A-Lot as a man—or immortal, in Briar’s case—he’s nothing I could have conjured.
“One of the perks of not having to go into the mortal realm for months, enjoying all the various foods Florezca and my kitchen have to offer.”
“You cook?”
“I’m not going to take that look of shock on your face personally.” He rests his chopsticks in his bowl, giving me his full attention. “Next time, you’ll come over and I’ll make us dinner.”
“Already planning for next time?”
“Well, I doubt you’ll finish all your research in one night.” He picks up the chopsticks and continues to eat.
“Speaking of…” I think about where we are. “Isn’t Novel Nibbles right around the corner if we follow the hedges to the entrance to The Warren?”
“It is.”
“Can we stop there on the way back?” I take a sip of my tea before picking up another lettuce wrap from the small plate between us. “I want to see if they have any books or historical accounts on the ceremony.”
“Of course. We’ll stop by for a bit.” He nudges for me to take the last lettuce wrap, and I happily oblige. “They have their open mic night tonight, though, so it’ll probably get crowded after nine.”
“I’m sure we’ll be done before then.”
He nods in agreement, and we spend the next hour talking.
He asks about what school and life is like in the mortal world.
I make him tell me all about growing up in Florezca.
When he talks about his family, the love he has for them radiates from him, as warm as the food filling our bellies. It’s clear he’d do anything for them.
He’d do anything for you, too.
And though I know with unequivocal certainty that the voice in my head is telling the truth, I don’t allow the thought to linger for long.
It’s just dinner and research, I remind myself. But I can’t help wondering how many repetitions it’ll take for me to actually believe it.