A crash emits from the back, and Ethan hops in a circle holding his knee.
“I’d better get out there.” Gage doesn’t seem too enthused with the prospect.
“You have a bad back.”
“Don’t worry about me.” He gives a sly wink. “I’ve got a little extra power running through my veins these days. I’ll be fine.”
I don’t say a word about that “extra power.” Instead, Mom and I watch as he takes off into the yard.
“There he goes to save the day,” Mom whispers. “He’s just amazing isn’t he?” She sighs dreamily. And, if I didn’t know better, I’d swear she was swooning.
Emily comes out from the side yard and waves Gage over. She’s holding Ember, the baby she had with Drake last summer, on her hip like a sack of potatoes. Ember is a beauty as is Misty, and they’re both so soft and sweet as cotton candy. I could just eat them right up. My stomach clenches because I’ll never have a sweet little girl to call my own. Being a mother is something that will never happen for me.
Emily jumps up and hugs Gage. My face cinches back from the shock of it. First, Emily’s emotional thermostat is usually set to a chilly two degrees, thus garnering her the general appeal of a zombie. But from here it looks as though she’s actually fracturing her features and doing the unthinkable—smiling. She hugs Gage again and even offers him a congratulatory pat on the back as if he’s doing a great job even though he’s hardly set foot in the yard.
A thought comes to me. Marshall said Emily’s family was part of Rothello’s offspring, the Videns. Rothello mixed his seed with a band of Roma gypsies creating these freaky artistic prophets, the Viden people. They’re vagabond seers who Marshall said were waiting for their fearless leader.
Oh. My. God. Is this why he’s been slipping out at night? To lead Em’s people in some sort of demonic art revolution?
“Skyla?” Mom relaxes her arm over my shoulder. “I think you need more coffee. I asked if Emma had welcomed you into the family yet.”
“Oh, right. No—she didn’t.” I turn to refill my cup and note a large black beast rousing from under Mia’s feet. It’s a dog, or a dragon—on second thought, I’m the only one with a dragon around here. “Dear God, what is that thing?” It looks like a pit bull mixed with a German Shepherd, mixed with a dinosaur. He’s sprawled out as long and wide as an ottoman, so, in a sense, he’s already making himself useful.
“That”—Tad barks while pointing an accusatory finger—“is not the latest addition to this family. We are done with dogs! We’ve got Cinckles, remember?”
“Sprinkles!” The girls correct in unison.
“This is my puppy.” Mia hoists him toward her by a threadbare rope attached to his collar. “His name is D-O-G. If you say it fast enough it sounds French.”
He stands next to her and takes up half the family room. His testicles hang off his back end like a pair of tired tennis balls as his tail curls proudly toward his back. It’s perfectly obscene, and yet I can’t look away.
“Crap, he’s huge.” I shudder. “That’s no puppy, Mia, where did you find him?”
“He was all alone, wandering the mean streets of Host.” She shoots me a look as if it were my fault. Mia’s face is sculpting perfectly into mine. If Gage’s half sibling is a mirror reflection of him, mine is shaping up to be the same thing. “I went to visit you one day, and you weren’t home. I took a shortcut to the ferry, and D-O-G was there all by his lonesome.” She said his name so fast and seamlessly it really does sound French.
“Well, that’s nice that you rescued him.” God, I bet a beast of that size has to eat an entire cow each day. Wait a minute… didn’t Rev say he lost his dog?
“And you’re welcome to go ahead and unrescue him.” Tad gruffs. “I want him gone by the time I come home from my business trip.”
I roll my eyes at the thought of anyone sending Tad away on business—monkey business.
“Tad was promoted to executive officer of intercompany relations.” Mom pats Misty’s back with pride. “It’s about time his career sprung into gear. I was just about to kick him to the curb for keeping us in the poor house.” She gives a cute wink, but I know buried deep in that jest is a glimmer of truth. And I bet I know whose house she would have ended up at. Demetri’s ugly mug stains my brain, and I usher him right out.
Tad and Mom have been living just this side of despair for as long as I can remember.
“Mia”—I revert back to the beast she’s harboring—“I think that dog belongs to someone I know on Host.”
“I didn’t see any wanted posters.” She waves me off dismissively.
“His owner isn’t the ‘wanted poster’ type.” Unless, of course, it’s featuring his mug shot. I glance out the window to see if Emily is still molesting Gage, but it looks as if her bout of smiling insanity is over. She’s glaring at Ethan while he gimps back and forth. “So that’s great about the new position.” I shrug at Tad as if I care. “What exactly does the executive officer of intercompany relations do?” I’m betting it involves a Starbucks run for all the real executives.
“Executive stuff.” Tad stands and peers out the back window. “I’m in charge of relations, so I relate. Of course, there will be lots of travel involved. I’ll be coming and going all the time. It’s a very important position.” He gives my mother a wry smile. “I’ll miss your cooking, Lizbeth.” He takes off into the backyard, and I marvel how he held his composure during those last few words.
God, he was serious. Like I’ve said, it’s been like living in a rabbit hole the last few weeks.
Mia and her French beast trot out to the back to join the masses. He walks right up to Tad’s feet and takes a big giant shit.
“He must have sensed how important Tad is,” I offer as Mom shakes her head. “He might actually help mend Mia’s poor heart. God knows that’s been long in coming.”
“You’re right. Oh, and I forgot to tell you, she has homecoming the night before your big party, so don’t expect too much participation from the girls. They’re all about dresses and shoes these days. But I’m very excited about the birthday slash reception. It’s going to be great, I promise. The decorations are going to be first class.”
I cringe inwardly when she says first class. Gage and I aren’t about putting on airs, but then again neither is my mother. With her, first class decorations usually come in a plastic bag from the dollar store.
“No worries. Really, we don’t want anything fancy.”
“Don’t you worry. I got Emma to agree to let me have it here. The last thing I wanted was haggis and her poor attitude ruining your special day. I’m having it catered by El Padre Cantina.” She clips her fingers together as if they were castanets. “Nothing but the best for you and my favorite son-in-law.”
“He’s your only son-in-law.” But I have a feeling he’ll always be her favorite. “Say, Tad must have earned quite the raise if you’re able to cater the event.”
“Heaven’s no.” She averts her eyes while shifting Misty from one boob to the next. “He’s actually had to take a downgrade in pay because the company is only covering half his travel expenses. He’s just so happy to have been tapped on the shoulder for the position. He didn’t ask any questions.”
Shoot. It looks like Demetri is still in the running.
“That’s too bad. So did Emma and Barron offer to cover some of the catering costs?” God, I hope so. I’d hate to see Misty here lack a college education because her mother shelled out a small fortune to feed the masses.
“Are you kidding? I didn’t even ask. I did a favor for a friend a while back, and he insisted on footing the bill. He said it was a gift for the newlyweds.” She gives a sly wink.
“Demetri.” My eyes lock onto hers as I try to read what exactly it is she sees in him. “No, thanks. I’ll see if I can’t make everyone a sandwich—PB and J should suffice. Hell, I’ll even throw in some top ramen. A feast will be had by all.”
“Forget it, Skyla. It’s
a done deal.”
“What’s a done deal?” Tad comes bounding in with a suitcase from the garage.
“The fact Demetri graciously covered the cost of food for her wedding reception.” Mom nods at me as if I should accept this horrible truth.
“Yes, Siree, Bob he did. And don’t think for a minute I’m not going to get down on one knee and kiss his pinky ring. That man is a saint. Both he and that wonderful niece of his are welcome in my home anytime. In fact, he mentioned he’d keep an extra eye out on my little lady while I was away on business.”
Misty perks up and giggles. Her lips are still compressed over Mom’s nipple as she stretches it out unnaturally like taffy. I’m still convinced Misty is far more related to Gage than I’d like to think.
“I bet he’ll look after her.” I shoot the woman a look. Her face blushes twelve shades of crimson as if the implication were spot on.
“Tad forgot to mention the fact he has a traveling companion.” Mom manufactures that fake smile she usually reserves for Emma. “It turns out Isis will be Tad’s new secretary.”
“She’s in charge of keeping me in line.” He straightens his tie and gives a greasy smile into the small oval mirror hanging on the wall.
Holy hell. I groan. If this doesn’t have break-up-your-marriage written all over it nothing does. Isis is Demetri’s breasty blonde bombshell of a silicone niece with no sense of fashion because most of the time she’s inappropriately undressed.
“You can’t be serious. That woman is a walking blowup doll. Tad, if my mother won’t step in, I will. You’re not going.” His eyes bounce from his head like beach balls. “Don’t you see? This entire promotion is a charade. Demetri Edinger is after your bride. Drop the Isis-shaped scales from your eyes, once and for all.”
The room quiets down to crickets. Even little Misty has taken a break from her suckling to observe the audacity that sprung from my lips.
Mom and Tad exchange a brief glance, and in that one nanosecond I can feel them questioning whether or not I’m onto something.
“Did you remember to pay the membership to the Cost Club?” Mom flips a switch, and the tension in the room subsides.
“Why, yes, I did, sweetie.” Tad’s lips expand unnaturally. “Don’t spend too much, dear. We’ve got a small brood to keep clothed and sheltered.”
She chortles out a laugh. “You just worry about bringing home the bacon. I’ll make sure that little piggy lasts.” She turns to me with fresh laughter caught in her throat. “Did you hear the news? They just opened one of those big box stores on the east end of the island. We’re going to save a ton of money from now on. They’ve even got gas on the cheap!”
She and Tad go off their separate ways, leaving me alone to gaze out as the fog slowly eats up the view of the yard. It’s funny how they completely ignored my theory. Mom brazenly changed the subject, and Tad played right along. How can two married people be so content to live in their own delusional worlds? Is that the true glue that keeps a marriage like my mother’s going? Avoidance?
Gage crosses his arms and gives a jovial wave from amidst the melee of Drake’s new circus. I give a quick curl of the fingers in return.
Is that how Gage and I are going to plod along in our marriage? By avoiding the Demetri-sized elephant in the room?
How much longer, Gage Oliver, will you keep the truth from me?
I’ve texted Marshall and asked him to meet me behind the barn in the event Liam or Ellis happen to be home. It’s strange having a house full of people at Marshall’s when before it was just him and, of course, me on the odd occasion.
I spot Marshall seated on an exaggeratingly tall horse that looks as if it belongs in a beer commercial. There’s a pale horse just like it to his left. Marshall is horrifically handsome, comely to the point of inducing a lustful ache in females of all walks of life. My own mother sways toward him whenever he’s in the vicinity. Heck, I’ve even seen Emma sneak a glance or two at his fine behind during one of my mother’s infamous dinner parties. When he first came to Paragon the entire bitch squad was after him. Even Brielle laid down for the master. “Studley Dudley” has garnered quite the following. Let’s just say Marshall knows how to bring the wenches to the yard.
“Ms. Messenger.” He holds up a riding crop, smiling at me with those spirited burgundy eyes. “Are you up for a quick jaunt around the island?”
“That sounds a bit ambitious. Maybe the property. Where did you find these magnificent beasts?” I ask as he extends his hand and helps me onto my own stead. “On second thought, I’d rather not know.”
A horrible caw comes from the clearing, and we spot a seamless row of sparrows disrupted by a giant barrel-bellied raven diving toward us.
Holden does a crash landing in one of the bushes before fluttering over to my shoulder.
“Please, get off. You weigh as much as a small house.” I try to jerk him away, but he’s obnoxiously tenacious.
“See what he wants,” Marshall instructs.
“Only to please you.” I bat my lashes at him.
Marshall’s brow rises as if it were a loaded innuendo, and knowing Marshall he took it as one.
For months now I’ve had one erotic dream after another involving the seductive Sector, and I can’t seem to find the off button. Marshall swears he’s not responsible, so I’ve only myself to blame. It’s sort of hard explaining to Gage why his wife keeps having irrational orgasms in the night.
“What?” I flatten my hand over Holden’s long black feathers, irritated by his presence.
You’ll be needing me. Rumors are swirling, and let’s just say you’ll be glad you have me in the vicinity rather than that psychotic you landed in the Transfer.
That is the one good thing about Holden, he doubles as a Chloe offensive because the two of them physically can’t be near one another. It’s a part of the curse, for lack of a better word, my mother bestowed upon them.
“Holden says he’s heard rumors about Chloe,” I say, steadily following Marshall out to the side of the stream that bisects his property. “What about you? Have you heard any rumors? Let me guess—you’ve started them.”
Marshall barks out a laugh that echoes through the hillside. “Tell the bird he can stay, but to keep a fair distance. We don’t need him listening in on our conversation.”
“He said—”
I heard. Look, you’ve got trouble brewing you know nothing about. Carve out a little time in your schedule, and let me prove myself to you. Once I have your trust, you’ll want me around 24/7, you’ll see.
“Hardly.” He’s already proven himself worthless. I shake him off, and he flies to a nearby branch. Gage and his secret wanderings spring to the forefront of my mind. “Logan and I need you, Marshall. He says he asked for your services, and you refused him. Is this true?”
“I refused him?” His lips glide up one side, amused. “Let’s be clear—I simply suggested an alternate method of snooping. I have better things to do in the wee hours of the morning.”
“Like?” My heart gives an unnatural wallop. I’ve told Marshall countless times he doesn’t have to wait for me. In fact, I’m still set on having Gage as my one and only. I can’t bear the thought of losing him. Logan has his Treble, but I don’t think my mother is about to offer the same to Gage. As much as my earthly mother loves him, my heavenly mother seems to be less than thrilled with his presence.
“Like sleep.” His eyes spear through mine, hot as molten lead. “My mattress whispered a few secrets to me. It seems Jock Strap saw fit to bed my wife in my own chambers on All Hallows’ Eve. Is this true, Skyla? Have you no regard for our union?”
Oh, crap.
“It’s accidentally true. Believe me, it was the last thing I expected. We were making up, and we just got a little carried away, that’s all. If you’re in the market to get rid of the bed, I’ll gladly take it off your hands.” Gage and I are in serious need of something clean to rest our weary heads on. Plus the makeup sex on Marshall’s
mattress was exceptionally comfortable.
“Too late. I held a bonfire in the yard. You should have seen the elation on Harrison’s hallucinating face. Nevertheless, back to the matter at hand.” Marshall leads us to the greenbelt that lines the widest part of the stream and hops off his horse. I give him my hand, and he catches me as I jump into his arms.
“Thank you,” I say as my feet dangle in anticipation of touching down over damp Paragon soil.
“You’re welcome.” He offers the hint of a cool smile as his eyes burn a fire into mine. He puckers his lips a moment, silently begging for a kiss. Marshall holds the scent of peppermint and spice, sharp and sexy. It takes all of my effort not to bury my face in his neck.
“You can let go now,” I whisper, choosing to ignore his offer, tempting as it might be. I belong to Gage, and I plan on keeping it that way. His grip loosens, and my feet hit the dirt with an unceremonious thump.
“Did you get an invitation to my reception slash birthday party? Will you be coming?” I ask as we wander toward the stream. Marshall takes my hand, and that intensely pleasing vibration pulsates from him. It quivers through every cell in my being, and I close my eyes, just soaking it in. This is heaven. Marshall is a walking stress relieving station.
“Yes, and no.” He frowns, and even for that tiny gesture my thighs quiver.
“Why not? Please, I want you there.” I pull his other hand toward me and purse my lips in an effort to get my way.
“You’re my bride, love. It sickens me to know you’re cradled in Jock Strap’s arms at night—defiling yet another unsuspecting mattress.”
“If it makes you feel better, the mattress Ellis helped me procure was loaded with mites that burrowed into our skin. We had to drench ourselves in medication just to get rid of them.”
Marshall lifts his head as if responding to a foreign noise in the vicinity.
“Serves him right. I’m sorry you were subject to that.”
“So you’ll come? Eat some cake? Demetri is pitching for the food, so it’s free eats courtesy of our favorite Fem.”
The Dragon and the Rose Page 8