A sound brings me up short. There is…someone in my kitchen.
I take a step back before I catch myself. I am not running back to the men and begging them to protect me. This is my house. I wrap my robe more firmly around me and duck into my office to grab the first thing I see. It’s a massive hardcover book on the history of Olympus—a family heirloom that could crush a small child—and I feel a little ridiculous as I heft it in front of me and start back down the hall. That feeling of ridiculousness only gets worse when I see who’s puttering about in my kitchen.
Pandora.
She’s wearing a pair of faded jeans and a loose cropped T-shirt that I suspect originated in Hephaestus’s closet. It leaves her soft belly exposed and I am struck by the sudden urge to go to my knees and press my mouth there. “Um.”
“Morning.” She takes in the book I’m holding. “I’d ask how you’re doing, but you look both thoroughly sexed and kind of stressed. Apparently Theseus took the old ‘when you’re holding a hammer, every problem looks like a nail’ approach.”
I’m…not sure how to act in this situation. Obviously, Pandora knew I was married to Hephaestus—Theseus—but this feels very different than the relationship we’ve been building to date. The whole point was to keep him out of what Pandora and I have…and then turn around and needle him about it. To let him twist in the wind and worry about what I might be up to with his beloved best friend.
Except he’s in my bed and she’s in my kitchen.
My stomach dips and I try for a smile. “Morning?”
She props her hands on her hips. “Are you going to hit me with that book?”
“No?”
“Then why don’t you put it down and come here?”
I numbly set it on the narrow hall table next to me. My body hardly feels like my own right now. I’m more centered that I was last night, but not by much.
My whole world has gone topsy-turvy.
Even so, it feels so damn right to step forward and into Pandora’s arms. She hugs me tightly and I find myself clinging to her and inhaling her flowery shampoo scent.
“I’m glad you’re okay,” she murmurs against my throat. “I was really worried about you when Theseus called me last night.”
Just like that, the pieces click into place. My husband came here, found me—well, the less I think about how he found me, the better—and then called Pandora. “You’re the one who told him to call Adonis, aren’t you?”
“Yes.” She leans back enough to look into my eyes. “Theseus and I would have fucked it up, even if we tried our best. Adonis knows you.” She smiles a little. “He loves you. You love him, too. He was who you needed.”
“Thank you,” I whisper. I search her expression for some kind of hurt, but there’s nothing. “This is a very strange situation.”
“Welcome to polyamory.” She gives me one last squeeze and steps back.
“Just like that?” It seems to defy belief that I can take her at face value. That Pandora wouldn’t feel even a sliver of the conflicting feelings coursing through me right now. That she would offer relief instead of piling on the guilt. “That simple.”
“There’s nothing simple about it. It gets thorny and sometimes the communication is better than other times. But that’s life, isn’t it?” She shrugs. “What’s on the agenda today?”
I follow her into the kitchen. It doesn’t even occur to me to lie. “The Thirteen have a meeting about the increased attacks against us. After that, I need to survey the replacement glass divider being installed in my office.”
Pandora nods. “You’ll need some protein to get you through.” She eyes me. “You’re the type to fly right through lunch without eating, aren’t you?”
Guilt heats my skin, even though I have nothing to actually feel guilt for. “I’m very busy. Sometimes it slips my mind.”
“Thought so.” She nudges me with her hip. “Sit down and let me feed you. Preferences on breakfast?”
I tuck my robe more firmly around my body and perch on the barstool at the island. “Simple. I usually grab a protein bar or something on the way out the door.”
The look she sends my way is so filled with exasperation that my heart gives a funny little thump. I’m going to have to have my chest looked at. All these skipped beats can’t be good for my health. Between the three of them, my heart is working overtime.