He looked away. “I’m here for whatever you need, at any time, but I don’t think I can hear about your sexual exploits…when you start having them. Anything else is fair game, but…” He shook his head. “Probably not that.”
“Mutual, because that’s gross. Men talking about women like that.”
“Double standard?” He glanced down at me with a sly smile.
“Yes. This one time the sexual double standard goes the opposite way. You have to let us have this one.”
He chuckled. “Fair enough. It’s probably better that we can’t hook up. You’d tell everyone what a bad lay I was.”
“Happened before, has it?” I wrapped my arm around his. “Can we go sit down to our G-rated picnic now? I have more tastings to do. Oh, and I need to ask your advice.”
“I thought we just cleared the air about that,” he teased, walking me back and lowering me to my place before taking his seat.
“Oh, you meant my solo sexual fun, too?”
His whole body stiffened. Fire lit his eyes. He leaned forward, braced his elbows on his knees, and rubbed his eyes with the heels of his palms. “God, Jess. Yes. I mean that, too. Yes. Please don’t mention that to me, for entirely different reasons.”
I laughed, this situation we found ourselves in beyond weird. Usually when a man and a woman were friends, one of them wanted to bang the other, and they didn’t because they were friend-zoned. This was the first time I knew of that both parties were struggling to maintain a friendship despite both of them wanting more. Why did I always do things ass-backward?
“Actually, I’ve been wondering about my financial situation…” I checked the spell, making sure it was holding firm around us. This particular spell was sensitive, and an errant fingernail or piece of hair could render it useless. “Here’s the thing. Ivy House is apparently worth a lot of money, and the heir can use that money as long as she is alive. She can’t pass it on, but she can use it while she has it, basically. At the moment, Mr. Tom manages all of that. He insists on paying for everything. I have no idea how much I have, let alone if there’s frivolous spending within the household. Like…how much is Edgar spending on flowers? I never thought that would be a concern, but…”
“Definitely a concern,” Austin said.
“Yeah. It’s like Mr. Tom is trying to keep it from me. It isn’t really mine, and I have my own money, so I haven’t been too pushy about it, but it’s starting to feel…off. I don’t know what to do. How do I broach the subject? I assume he’d never try to embezzle, but…well…”
Austin leaned back, like he was uncoiling, before lying down behind me. He pulled me back to lean against him, as though he hadn’t just declared that we should keep our distance.
“You’re thinking like a Jane,” he said, “and he clearly hasn’t explained how it works in the magical world for someone in your situation. Mistresses of great fortune, which is what you are now, are considered above handling their own daily affairs. You do not pay for things; you instruct your servant to pay for things. You do not carry your purchases; you do not drive yourself; you do not do anything that someone else could easily do for you. If you want to know more about the finances, ask him to bring the ledgers to your office or wherever. That’s where he tallies the expenditures and totals and whatnot. You can make changes, and he’ll see to it.”
I digested that for a moment. “The ledgers… When you say ledgers, I’m thinking large volumes with handwritten computations.”
“Probably, yeah. Earl is old. He probably does things the traditional way.”
“So that’s the first thing to go.” I frowned, the light starting to dwindle, the wine starting to make my thoughts peacefully fuzzy. I thought back to the countless times Mr. Tom and I had passed the great old office together. What with its bulky furniture, the quills sticking out of inkpots on the desk, and strange abstract paintings on the wall, it had never appealed to me. He’d recommended that I head in there once in a while and “see to things.” I’d thought he was referring to the outdated decorations. No thanks. Now, however…
“I wonder what other little things I’ve missed because he hasn’t come right out and told me.”
“Probably a lot. You should mention it to Niamh. She’s a lot less hung up on formality. She’ll figure out what’s needed and let you know.”
I ran my bottom lip through my teeth. “Good tip.”
We stayed until sunset. I took over pouring the glasses and he continued to lie on his side, pulling me back against him when I wasn’t grabbing food or drink. The day waned, the sun painting the landscape a dark amber before we finally packed it in and headed home, Mr. Tom taking the remains of the picnic and Austin carrying me as I twirled my fingers within his soft fur. Once back at Ivy House, I did a quick mental check to see where everyone was within the house—my dad up in bed, my mom reading in the front room, Mr. Tom already back and in the kitchen, some of the gargoyles at windows, some stationed in rooms, and Edgar still down in the cavern below the house with the crystals, working day and night to get answers for me.
“I’ve always just assumed that vampires sleep, but…do they?” I asked Austin as he dressed within the trees. He met me on the grass, glancing at the nibbled patch of flowers as he passed. The ground was just a bit wet, probably not noticeable to anyone not looking for it. If the deer came, hopefully it wouldn’t be looking.
“If they expend a lot of effort, they tend to binge-sleep.” He stopped beside me. “Do you want to set the tripwire?” I nodded and got to it. “So they might sleep a week after a battle, but otherwise not so much. He doesn’t do much around here, so I doubt he sleeps very often. All that time, and he still can’t make a doily.”
I laughed, tore down the spell, and started over. “Quiet for a moment. This still takes concentration.”
I finished, and we continued on toward the house, Austin’s pressure on my back directing me around to the front porch.
“Can’t end a date at the back door,” he said. Once there, he deposited me on the stoop before stepping back, his eyes deep and soft. “Thank you, Jacinta. I had a great time.”
I felt antsy, like he might leave. “It was perfect, Austin. I would not change one thing, not even Mr. Tom falling from the tree.” I picked at my nail. “Do you… You’re coming in, right?”
“If this were a real date, no. I would bid you adieu and call you tomorrow. Since I’m sleeping here…I kinda have to.”
“If this were a real date, you wouldn’t come in?”
“No, because I wouldn’t want the old guard to make assumptions. I wouldn’t want them to think I had fallen into my old habits, or that my feelings for you were shallow.”
“Since when do you care what other people think?”
“As it concerns you? Always.”
I shook my head. “Stop always saying the right thing. It’s annoying.” I laughed, flicking my hair, a nervous movement. I didn’t want to go back to normal life. I wanted this moment, this perfect date, to last forever. “What about a hug and kiss on the cheek? You’d give that to your granny.”
“I wouldn’t dare. She’d punch me in the balls if I tried. She’s not a hugger.”
He moved in slowly, his eyes holding mine, pulling me in. My stomach fluttered and expectant shivers coated me.
“But since you are a hugger,” he said, barely a whisper, his voice deep and rough and sexy.
He slid his hands across my hips and around, pulling me to him firmly, our fronts pressing together. I couldn’t help but moan, my eyes fluttering shut as he spread his hands on my back, his strength enveloping me. The squeeze felt so good, and I slid my palms down his chest to his pecs, feeling his muscle through his shirt.
As he released me, he touched his lips to my cheek, soft at first, then a little firmer. He dragged them a little, giving me another little kiss nearer my mouth, then dragged a little more, spreading a trail of fire across my skin. His lips skimmed the corner of mine, like they had in the mine before
I threw a wrench in my own wicked plans. He paused for a moment, breathing faster, sharing the same heated air.
I couldn’t take it anymore. I slid my hands back up his torso, the feeling beyond good, and turned my head just enough that our lips aligned, almost touching. Without another thought, he leaned in, pulling his hand around so his fingertips braced against my jaw. His taste exploded through me, wine and honey and cinnamon. He nibbled my bottom lip before deepening the kiss, almost like he couldn’t help himself, stealing my breath. My God, I’d forgotten how damn well he kissed. How consuming. I held on for dear life, lost to it, lost to him. Why weren’t we supposed to do this, again? What was the big deal?
Too soon he pulled back, breathing heavily.
“Whoops,” he said, his lips still so close, his fingers at my jaw, his other arm wrapped around me. “That got away from me. Did I just ruin the date?”
“Definitely. You had it locked down, and you just blew everything to hell.”
He smiled, kissing me once more, light but languid, before backing off. “Can’t happen again.”
“I know.”
“It was a friend kiss.”
“Two for two on the friend kisses. Both after a wine tasting.”
“Right. No more wine tasting.” He stepped up onto the porch and reached for the door.
“Hey, Austin?”
He paused and turned back.
“Will you do me a huge favor?” I asked. “You don’t have to. It won’t be easy.”
“Anything.”
“Will you call Earl Mr. Tom? Just because I know he’d really appreciate it and it would be less confusing.”
He stared at me for a long time. “Isn’t there a song about this? I’ll do anything, but not that?”
I laughed, heading into the house. “It was worth a shot. Want to watch a little TV?”
“Only if I don’t have to sit on the fart blanket. Your dad thunders the whole house. That blanket is under some serious stress. How it hasn’t put up the white flag, I do not know.”
I laughed harder, feeling my mom stir, and dragged Austin in behind me. I felt like a kid again. Like a teen sneaking a date into the house. The outcome wouldn’t be the same, but I would take it while I had it, because I had a feeling that come tomorrow I’d be fighting for my house and my freedom once again.
Seventeen
The head looming over me in the dim lighting wasn’t the one I was used to seeing upon first waking up. Before registering anything else about the figure, I screamed and threw up my hands, blasting the intruder up and away. He or she hit the door, across the room, which was closed, and crashed through it, tumbling through the hall in a rush of splintered wood.
I jumped up onto the bed like some sort of ninja, braced myself in the slinky little negligee I’d wanted to wear to bed after my date with Austin, and prepared for battle, all within the space of seconds. I’d really taken all the danger and training to heart. Muscle memory was a beautiful thing.
Austin rushed out of his room in his birthday suit, glancing my way first. When he saw I was ready for action, he shifted his attention to the trespasser, slowly getting up off the ground with a raised hand. More naked men filed into the hall—the other gargoyles had heard the commotion and come to help. Then my father showed up, his nude form standing out in a hallway full of them. He was also the only one who’d brought a weapon to a naked party.
“What’s going on?” my dad hollered, holding Jake the battle-axe across his torso. “It’s two in the morning, for Christ’s sake.”
It had unfortunately taken me that long to identify the person who’d invaded my slumber. The hunched figure slowly rising with the trembling, outstretched hand, silently asking for a truce, was poor Edgar.
“Dad, put some clothes on,” I said, getting down off the bed.
“Why me?” Dad asked, gesturing around him.
“This is my house. I make the rules.”
“You didn’t adhere to my rules; I don’t have to adhere to yours.” He held the battle-axe a little tighter.
“And where did you get that battle-axe?” I demanded. “Put Jake back. You shouldn’t have that.”
“At least someone thought to bring a weapon,” my dad said.
“He does have a point,” Ulric said with a grin. “What’s going on, Jessie?”
“Nothing.” I surveyed my ruined door, one set of hinges still on and the other torn free. “Edgar surprised me, is all.”
“Holy crap.” Ulric widened his eyes. “If this is what happens when someone surprises you, I count myself lucky to be on your side.”
“We’re good, everyone. Go back to your tasks,” Austin said, helping Edgar up. The gargoyles peeled away slowly, heading off to sleep or keep watch out the windows.
“Miss.” Mr. Tom turned the corner at the other end of the hall, appearing behind my dad, perfectly dressed like he was ready for the day. “Shall I get you some coffee?”
“Why weren’t you here earlier?” Austin asked Mr. Tom, a growl riding his words. “She could’ve been in danger.”
“I knew it was Edgar who had surprised her, and I’ve personally experienced what happens to anyone who surprises her out of her sleep. It’s nice to know she has taken it easy on me in the past, and that she is comfortable with me now. Edgar, you have a bone popping out. That’s not a good look.”
“Yeah, my arm hurts a little.” Edgar stuck out his right arm, his left still raised in surrender. A shard stuck out of his forearm, and I turned away and gagged. I never would’ve made it as a nurse, something I’d known for a long time, and this new life constantly reminded me of that fact.
“Oh my God, I am so sorry, Edgar.” I immediately sent a stream of magic to repair the damage.
“What’s that?” My dad crept closer to Edgar. “Oh wow, yes, that doesn’t look good. We need to get you to a hospital.”
“Oh no, it’ll be fine. I heal really quickly, Mr. Callium—”
“McMillian,” I corrected him.
“Mr. McCallium,” Edgar said. I let it go. “I’ve had worse. Once half my head was crushed in—”
“That explains some things,” Mr. Tom murmured.
“So long as no one cuts off my head or stabs silver through my heart, I’ll keep going, right as rain.”
“Put your hand down, man, this is serious,” my dad said, clearly at the end of his tether.
“Dad, head back to bed. We’ll take Edgar to the hospital,” I said even as my magic stitched up Edgar’s arm. “It’ll be fine by morning.”
“How did he even— What happened?” my dad demanded, Jake still in a death grip, as though the ancient battle-axe was the only thing connecting him to sanity.
“He scared me and I threw him through the door.”
My dad looked down the dim hall at me for a moment and blinked. “Huh.” He nodded. “Atta girl.” He shook his head, muttering to himself as he headed back to bed. By the time he left this house, nothing would faze him. Maybe nothing already did, given his non-reactions to everything he’d seen.
“Why did you want to see me, Edgar?” I asked, doing a sweep of the property, feeling the basajaun way out in the woods, moving slowly and probably silently, on patrol.
“I have something for you, Jessie. I found it! I think I found it, at any rate.” He finally put his hand down, now cradling his injured arm to his body. “I’ve had a breakthrough regarding the intruders’ ability to hide from Ivy House’s magic.”
Excitement rose through me, and I put out a finger. “Wait there. Let me get dressed.”
“You might get dressed, too, Mr. Steele,” Mr. Tom said.
Austin stood next to Edgar, his expression still hard but his focus now on me—or, more accurately, on my nighty.
Warmth infused my cheeks, and memories of last night filtered through my mind. I’d fallen asleep on the couch while watching TV with him, my legs across his thighs. I’d awoken in his arms while he gently transported me up to my room. I’d hugged him g
oodnight and then felt the need to sleep in something a little sexier than my normal T-shirt and undies.
Without a word, he turned and went back into his room. I returned to mine and changed in the closet so as not to give everyone another peep show. Austin and I met back in the hallway minutes later, both dressed. I could sense Edgar down in the kitchen with Mr. Tom, so I led the way, hurrying down the stairs as the house quieted down, everyone back in their rooms or their assigned spots for sentry duty.
“Coffee, miss?” Mr. Tom asked as I reached him. He held out a steaming white mug. “Mr. Steele?”
“Yeah, thanks,” Austin said, in gray sweats that actually fit him. He’d clearly brought his own.
Edgar stood by the window, looking out. “That basajaun needs to stay near the house, not way out in the woods. This is where the enemy will end up.”
“Basajaun rely on the woods for information,” Austin said as he got his cup of coffee. “They listen to the trees and the birds and the wildlife. They feel sensations through the ground. If he’s in the middle of the property, he can move in any direction at the first sign of a presence. Ivy House might not be able to sense the trespassers, but the intruders will brush against trees. They will be seen by the wildlife. Information of their presence will reach the basajaun. In the meantime, he isn’t leaving his scent near the deer’s usual hangout. No enemy wants to tango with a basajaun, no matter how fierce. Seeing it in action one time will tell you why.”
“You could take him,” I said. “You were bigger than him on your hind legs.”
“It’s not about size, it’s about ferocity, but yes, I could take him. I have my own unbridled ferocity. I cannot be tamed, despite how much I desperately wish I could.”
His cobalt eyes beat into mine, that last sentence for me specifically, I knew. His demons had clearly been haunting him last night.
“No man can be tamed,” I said, not trying to convince him or change the status quo, just speaking the truth as I knew it. “The only way a man can change is if he wants the change for himself. If it’s not initiated by him, he can bend, he can pretend, but he’ll go back to being exactly who he was at the get-go. And that’s okay. None of us are perfect. None of us are fully comfortable with ourselves—there are always going to be things you don’t like. Ghosts and insecurities, dark places. The trick is finding someone who is as comfortable with your dark side as you are with theirs. The trick is not to change someone to fit you, but to find someone with whom you don’t have to change.”
Magical Midlife Invasion Page 17