Blind Warrior (The Weavers Circle 3)

“Sounds like enough food to feed an army.”

“We figured the goddesses might show up to celebrate with us and this time, they won’t have to make a thing.” Clay stood and walked into the kitchen to steal bacon.

Dane shook his head and put more into the pan.

Clay wrapped his arms around Dane and nuzzled his neck, the bacon still in his hand.

“This is nice,” Cort whispered. “Normally, I’d fly out to Arizona and spend the holiday with my sister, but I’m glad I’m here with you this year.”

“Maybe we’ll be able to do that next year.” Grey didn’t mention that he’d only be able to do it another ten years or so before his sister started noticing he wasn’t aging. It was a problem they’d deal with then. Just like the pestilents and the fact that John got away wasn’t going to ruin this day for him. He took a sip of his coffee just as the buzzer on the oven went off. “I’ll grab them,” he said.

He pulled the cinnamon rolls out of the oven and set the huge pan on two potholders on the counter. The guys wandered into the kitchen to get some along with more coffee. Cort started a new pot. It was all just so domestic, it hit Grey again that he had a huge family now. He looked at them, taking in the way they interacted with each other, the affection and camaraderie, and felt truly blessed. Yeah, maybe he’d traded a quiet life for one filled with danger, but these guys made it worth it.

Especially Cort, who was now laughing at something Wiley was telling him. He threw his head back, the sound joyous.

“We need a bigger breakfast table in here,” Dane murmured as he walked up to stand next to Grey. “There’s certainly room for one.”

“I suppose everyone could have gone into the dining room, but I think they want to be in here with the decorations. You guys did a great job on that, by the way.”

“Thanks. We missed you last night, but understood you wanted to be with Cort. You’re still in that honeymoon phase after all.”

“And you aren’t?” Grey pointed to a red mark on his neck.

Dane blushed. “I suppose we still are. Can’t complain, that’s for sure.”

The handyman looked happy but maybe a little subdued. Were the holidays hard on Dane because of the loss of his first family? Grey kept the thought to himself, not wanting to bring the man down. Dane looked contemplative as he watched everyone milling about the kitchen.

They all took their plates into the family room. “Winter Wonderland” blared from the small phone in a holder on one of the side tables. Ruby trotted into the room and walked up to Queenie, who opened her eyes to glare at the dog. But the German shepherd didn’t bother her, instead lying on the floor right in front of her. Queenie shut her eyes again. Seemed the animals were feeling a bit of the Christmas spirit, too.

Grey settled on the couch with Cort sitting so close, their thighs touched. He balanced his plate on his lap and stretched one arm around the man. Cort smelled fresh from their shower, and he was reminded of how he’d only been able to smell the man before. That he couldn’t look his fill. So, he did now, staring.

“What?” Cort whispered.

“Just love looking at you,” he replied.

Cort gave him a private smile and turned to listen to some story Baer was telling. Grey wasn’t paying attention, too caught up in feeling thankful that he’d gotten his sight back. Feeling thankful that he’d found his soul mate. And feeling thankful that he’d found this group of men who made him feel so connected to the world.

He took a bite of his roll, the cinnamon sweet on his tongue, and chewed slowly. Clay got up to baste the turkey, sending another wave of that fantastic smell through the house.

Wiley stood suddenly, looking all kinds of nervous. “Okay, I got you all something. I know we said we weren’t exchanging gifts, but this is just a little something I’d already done.”

He handed out the presents, even giving one to Cort. Grey opened his to find a framed character drawing of him with a colorful aura around him. Cort had a drawing of him and Grey with Grey’s arm draping his shoulders. The drawings were really damn good, each caricature looking so much like the real thing, it was uncanny.

“These are great, babe.” Baer held up an image of him morphing into a tiger.

Clay returned to open his, showing everyone an image of him entwined with tree roots. It was a gorgeous picture.

Calder was surfing with water tentacles coming from his fingers.

Lucien held a fireball while the trees around him burned.

“Of course the trees would be burning,” Clay growled.