Page 12 of For the Love of the Quest

This obvious contrast between their free, shameless nature and Edith’s bashfulness suddenly made her feel silly and small for the first time since she’d embarked on the quest. It was all too clear that she was wildly out of her depth, just like her father and siblings had warned her she would be.

Not to mention that Thomasin and Jay were remarkably toned. Their bodies, what she could see of them, were muscled and—well, there was no other word for it—beautiful. Edith couldn’t compare to them with her round body and soft edges.

Just like that first night at the Oleander Inn when Edith had turned down Thomasin’s offer to celebrate, this was a painful reminder that Edith was not the brave, easygoing, spontaneous sort. No matter how much she wanted to be, her brain always seemed to get in her way with endless spirals into insecurity and fears of inadequacy.

“Out!” The gruff order made Edith jump, and her heart raced until she realized that Thomasin hadn’t been shouting at her, but at Jay and Worthing.

Worthing scrambled out of the water to his pile of clothes, while Jay waded out casually. Edith took a discreet step away from the bundles of clothing and examined the twilight sky with much thoroughness. She didn’t look down until she heard two sets of footsteps retreating to the camp.

That was a mistake, though. Her eyes met Thomasin’s. The woman was halfway out of the water, and she paused under Edith’s gaze.

How’s your wife?The taunt that Thomasin had thrown at the constable slammed into Edith’s mind with considerable force. Thomasin had been implying that she’d had a dalliance with—and that meant that Thomasin liked—Gah! Edith was having a hard time piecing together coherent thoughts.

“I’d be impressed too if I were you,” Thomasin said, gesturing to her body. The flat planes of her defined stomach. The V of her hips. Edith didn’t dare let her eyes travel above her tattooed rib cage. Thomasin laughed quietly to herself and retrieved her clothes.

“I’m sorry. I was going to leave,” Edith said, looking down at her filthy nails. “I didn’t mean to chase you all away.”

A damp hand fell on Edith’s shoulder. She turned to see Thomasin leaning into her, thankfully fully clothed. It wasn’t that Edith found Thomasin unappealing. Quite the opposite, really. Edith just wasn’t entirely sure what was happening to her. Everything felt sorealall of a sudden. She had read many a romance book. She knew about love, about attraction. But that had all been theory. The sight of Thomasin in the river—that went far beyond theory. Farther than Edith knew what to do with. She was worried that if she let herself want, she might want Thomasin too much, and shedidn’t want to embarrass herself. Edith had desired people before, but she was comfortable keeping those desires locked safely away in her imagination. Desiring Thomasin, though? That was terrifying. It was also unattainable, Edith reminded herself, trying to rein in her spiral. A person as interesting as Thomasin would never look twice at a girl as pathetic as herself. It was foolish how far out of her league she was dreaming.

“No apology necessary,” Thomasin said.

Edith’s eyes darted down once again, and she felt one of Thomasin’s fingers reach out to push a loose strand of hair behind her ear. Edith cringed at how dirty her hair must feel. But when she dared a glance back up, there was an amused smile on Thomasin’s face.

She jerked her head toward the river. “Take as long as you want. I’ll stand guard.”

“Why are you being so nice to me?” Edith blurted out.

Thomasin laughed and gave her a playful nudge. “Can’t have your big moment finding the treasure while you’re covered in dirt.”

“Fair enough.” Edith laughed grimly, the statement sending a flutter of anxiety through her stomach. There was a small matter that Thomasin wasn’t quite aware of yet. It wasn’t that Edith had lied to her. She had just implied certain things, and then let Thomasin fill in her own blanks.

She had never said the treasure and Excalibur would be at Slaughterbridge. She had said that was where they needed to go to find the treasure. And that was true. Only it was more complicated than she had let Thomasin believe. As she said, this was where the path to Avalon began, not where Avalon actually was.

In a mere matter of hours, Thomasin would learn that what lay beneath Arthur’s Stone was not the treasure itself, but a clue to lead them on the next step of the quest.

Chapter Six

Thomasin had never been good at resisting temptation. If she wanted something, she usually did whatever she could to get said thing. She didn’t see the point in denying herself pleasure. The life of a crime boss was a short one, so why would she waste her very limited time on the wanting phase when she could just skip to the fun part?

All that being said, Thomasin now found herself staring resolutely into the darkness, solemn in her vow to stand guard. Even as she heard the rustle of fabric and the clank of a buckle being undone. The soft splash of water, and Edith’s sharp intake of breath. She didn’t consider turning around once, nor did she make a single suggestive comment.

When she closed her eyes, she could see Edith’s bright-red face, her endearing embarrassment. Thomasin was more than tempted to storm back into that river and make Edith blush all over again, but she didn’t want to overwhelm her. Which was odd, because Thomasin didn’t usually make a habit of considering other people’s feelings. Edith had charmed her somehow. If she hadn’t been sonaively sincere, Thomasin would have thought it was a strategy, that she was being manipulated.

And now, Edith was bathing beneath the moonlight, and Thomasin wasnotlooking.

“You were right.” Edith’s strained voice drifted over to her like a gentle breeze. “It’s freezing.”

“Nothing better than an ice bath after sweating your ass off on a horse all day,” Thomasin called back.

“Speak for yourself! Not all of us wear head-to-toe leather. Maybe you’d sweat less in something more practical.”

“Never. Every drop of sweat is worth it.”

Edith laughed. The sound was strangled with cold, but it warmed some forgotten part of Thomasin. “It does cultivate a certain aesthetic.”

“What aesthetic is that?”

“You know.”