Food for the Soul by Ceri Grenelle

and then met both of you.” It was more than worth it, including the rough patches.
    “What about you? Any siblings?” Theo asked, his curiosity about Harper still unfed, no matter how much he learned.
    “I have siblings. My family moved away from here about ten years ago after I returned home.”
    “Do you talk?”
    “Sort of. It’s not exactly easy. They blame me for a lot of the problems in the family. There is tension between my maternal grandmother and parents.” She sighed and played with the tips of her fingers nervously. “It’s easier for them if I stay away.”
    “Is the argument about you?”
    “It’s about a lot of things, but yes, mostly about me.” She yawned, and Theo glanced at the large decorative clock on the wall over the main entrance. It was past eleven, and Harper looked about ready to pass out. It was hard to remember that she’d been injured recently, as, aside from the bruise on her face, her vivacious nature and outspoken manner was strong in its deception. She could fool anyone into thinking she was fine and could run a marathon. Had she always lived her life in such a way, running and racing with no thought for her well-being?
    “I think that’s our cue to go.”
    Flynn grinned at Theo, both their thoughts trained on the beautiful woman willing to put up with the both of them. Flynn paid the bill, saying this was their first date and he refused to be denied in the matter. Theo let him do what he want, especially when he stood to walk toward the cash register, his body moving with a strength that was too sensual for words.
    “Yeah…he’s got a great ass,” Harper mumbled.
    Theo thought he should have been embarrassed, but Harper was staring at Flynn’s ass as well. “Did you look at his ass before he rescued you?”
    “Yes, but I make it a habit not to date my volunteers. It was hard to avoid with him, though.”
    “How did you do it?”
    “Kept my distance. Kept him busy whenever he came in.”
    “Can I volunteer sometime?”
    “Sure. Won’t be anything to volunteer for soon, though. Better get your hours in while you can.”
    He brushed a strand of hair out of her face, the bruise on her skin beginning to turn a sickly greenish purple. “Are you okay coming home with me?”
    “Yes. My only concern is how I’m gonna keep my hands off you.”
    * * * *
    After dinner, Flynn said good night to Harper and Theo with a simple kiss on the lips. Theo leaned into it and chuckled afterward when Flynn told him to watch out for their girl. Harper didn’t know what to think about the ownership in that sentence, but as Theo placed his comforting arm around her, guiding her to his car, she decided to get angry about it some other time.
    The drive was short and mostly quiet. Theo listened to talk radio, and a repeat episode of This American Life was playing. They listened to an improbable story about the joy of love at first sight and the pain of losing the loved one as quickly. It was beautiful and sad and took Harper away from herself for the length of the journey.
    They pulled into a nice high rise with a doorman, and Theo had his own parking spot in the underground garage. They held hands as they made their way up to his tenth-floor, three-bedroom apartment, and she couldn’t help but feel slightly out of her element.
    His home was nice, well cared for. She lived in a tiny room above a soup kitchen. These feelings of separation were often what spurred her to anger as a teenager. The unwelcome thoughts didn’t make her want to run away anymore, but they didn’t put her at ease in what was already an awkward situation.
    “Don’t worry. I had my butler lock all my valuables up before you came because I know you thug types have a compulsive need to steal shit.” Theo was leaning against his kitchen island, black marble over wood so dark it nearly blended with his skin. The bastard actually seemed amused by her obvious discomfort.
    “We thugs have our ways of getting through