by I. T. Lucas
He pulled out his wallet and counted what little was left of his cash; a couple of twenties, a five, two singles and some change. Carol offered to give him pocket money, but he would rather starve than take it. Her paying for all their expenses was shameful enough.
He would’ve loved a cold Coke, but water would have to do. The warehouse people had been kind enough to leave a cooler for the day laborers. Robert grabbed a paper cup, filled it with cold water, emptied it on a oner, then repeated two more times before crumpling the cup and throwing it into the trash bin.
A pickup rolled to a stop. The driver eyed the group of men, then pointed at Robert. “You, tall guy, ever installed sprinklers?”
Robert nodded. He knew what they looked like. That should be good enough. He’d figure it out on the job. It wasn’t as if he could afford to turn down an offer.
“Then come on, get in.”
Robert didn’t even ask how much the guy was willing to pay. At that point, he would’ve accepted anything. He walked over to the passenger side of the truck and got in.
“Robert.” He offered his hand.
The guy’s eyes widened in surprise as he shook what was offered. “Don, but my friends call me Donny. I never expected to find an American here. Mostly it’s illegal workers.” He put the stick into drive, and the truck lurched forward. “I don’t usually hire guys off the street, but two of my boys didn’t show up this morning. The bums called in sick, but it was just a lame excuse. They were probably hungover.” He winked at Robert.
Robert returned a tight-lipped smile. “I’m actually Australian.” Interacting with humans wasn’t something he was good at. Hell, he sucked at interacting with immortals and mortals alike. Lucky for him, the guy was a talker.
“Down under, ha?” Don imitated Robert’s fake Australian accent. “What brings you here?”
“A woman.” It was partially true.
The guy nodded with an expression of compassionate understanding. “A man would do all kinds of stupid things for the right woman; follow her half around the world if need be. I hope she is worth it.”
Robert rubbed a hand over his sweaty neck. “I don’t know.”
“Is she trouble?” Don asked, looking eager. It seemed Don loved listening to gossip.
“Not really. She just isn’t the kind of woman I thought she was.”
“So you didn’t meet her before traveling all the way to the States? Was it an Internet romance?”
“Yes, exactly.” Robert liked the way the guy asked a question and immediately offered an answer. Coming up with lies on the spot wasn’t one of his strong suits.
Don shook his head. “My friend’s wife left him for a guy she met on the Internet; an Australian like you. Three kids and twelve years of marriage didn’t mean shit to her. She gave it all up for a guy she chatted with on the Internet. He came here and they got married and everything. Two years later, she divorced that dude as well. But at least he got a Green Card out of it.”
“What’s a Green Card?”
Don regarded Robert as if he was missing a couple of screws. “How can you be in the States and not know what’s a Green Card?”
Robert shrugged. It hadn’t been part of his briefing.
“It’s a piece of paper that says you are a legal resident of the United States. It means you get treated almost like a citizen. You can work legally, pay your taxes, stuff like that.” Don drifted off as they arrived at the construction site.
This Green Card was exactly what Robert needed, but there was something he was missing in this story.
“I don’t understand. How did he get a Green Card out of the divorce?”
Don rolled his eyes. “Not from the divorce, from the marriage. You marry an American woman, and you get a Green Card.” He enunciated each word as if he was talking to someone who had trouble understanding English.
“Yes, of course. It makes perfect sense. I guess standing in the sun all day fried my brain.” Robert attempted a smile.
That seemed to appease Don, and he clapped him on his shoulder. “The Vegas sun would do that. Lucky for you, we are installing sprinklers in the basement today. Compared to the outdoors, it is nice and cool there.”
As the crew supervisor explained what needed to be done, Robert understood why Don had picked him out of all the guys who had been waiting at the warehouse. The sprinkler system was being installed up on the ceiling of the basement, and Robert’s height was an advantage. The added benefit Don hadn’t anticipated was Robert’s strength and endurance. He was fast, efficient, and untiring. It didn’t take long for the crew to realize that he could do the work of three men with ease.
An hour later, the supervisor stopped by Robert’s ladder and looked up. “If you want the job, it’s yours, son. It pays well.”
That got Robert’s interest. “How much?”
“Twenty-five an hour.”
He had no idea what was considered good pay for this kind of work and didn’t really care. He would’ve happily shoveled manure for half of that. Problem was, his lack of papers.
Robert wiped the sweat off his forehead and frowned.
The supervisor put his hand on the third rung and leaned in closer. “Don’t worry about the paperwork. Don will make it happen for a guy like you.”
“Thank you.”
Glancing at all the work Robert had managed to do in the past hour, the guy smiled. “No, thank you!”
After a while the repetitious work became automatic, and Robert’s mind was freed to mull over the important information he had gleaned today. If Carol agreed to marry him, he would get that coveted Green Card. It seemed that fate had brought him to the right place at the right time.
Las Vegas was, supposedly, the best place for a quick marriage.
Ever since Carol and he had made their residence in the MGM, he had seen many couples dressed in fancy attire walking through the lobby and the casino. Carol had explained that they were wearing traditional bride and groom outfits. She’d also explained the benefits of getting married in Las Vegas.
The problem would be convincing her to do it. She didn’t love him, and Robert had lost hope that she ever would. Still, she could do it as a favor. After all, it wasn’t as if her true fated mate was going to show up anytime soon.
They could get a quick Vegas wedding and then go their separate ways.
Robert let the hand holding the heavy wrench drop by his side. Saying goodbye to Carol was going to be tough. He didn’t love her, but he’d gotten used to having her around.
Was caring for a person not good enough?
They liked each other and the sex was like nothing he’d ever experienced with a mortal woman. Carol admitted the same. It wasn’t perfect, they weren’t each other’s one true love, but what they had was better than going through life alone.
Much better.
Tonight, after he got back from work, he was going to have a talk with Carol.
Robert groaned. It wasn’t going to be easy. By now he had a pretty good idea who Carol was and what she was all about. Even if she agreed, he knew what her conditions would be.
After his three months were up, she would demand the freedom to screw whoever she wanted, whenever, wherever, and he had a big problem with that.
Chapter 8: Nathalie
“I’m hungry.” Nathalie stretched lazily. Exhausted after their marathon sex session, she had fallen asleep in Andrew’s arms while he carried her from the shower back to their room.
Andrew propped himself on his elbow and leaned, dipping his head to plant a soft kiss on her lips. “I’m starving, but we need to get dressed before venturing out to the kitchen. Syssi and Kian are back.”
Impossible.
They’d gotten back from their shopping trip shortly after lunch. Kian and Syssi should’ve been still at work. “How long was I asleep?”
“Over three hours.” There was a very satisfied smirk on his face. “I tired you out, didn’t I?”
“You’re insatiab
le. If I didn’t pass out, you would’ve kept going.”
A frown replaced his smirk. “I’m such a selfish prick. I was curious to see how many times I can go and forgot that I needed to be mindful of you.”
Nathalie punched his forearm. “I’m not fragile. And I could’ve stopped you at any time, but I didn’t want to. I was curious too.”
“Aren’t you sore?”
“Yeah, but I didn’t feel it before.”
“The endorphins.”
Nathalie smiled sheepishly. “It was worth it. I lost count of how many times I orgasmed.”
That erased the frown from Andrew’s face, but only for a moment. “Do you want me to bring you Advil or Tylenol?”
“Don’t be silly.” Nathalie swung her legs over the side of the bed and got up. “I’m fine.” She rubbed her belly. “But I need to put something in here.”
Andrew arched a brow.
The scoundrel.
Nathalie shook her head and pointed a finger at him. “I meant food. God, you’ve such a one-track mind.”
“I’m a man, sweetheart,” Andrew said as he padded to the closet. He leaned over the shopping bags and pulled out a new pair of jeans and a pack of boxer shorts.
She followed him inside. “That’s your answer to everything?”
Andrew tore open the pack and pulled out one. “No, just anything that has to do with sex.”
“What kind of sex?” He’d better not fantasize about other women.
He winked at her as he pulled the boxer shorts over his muscled thighs and covered his tight ass. “All the things I could do to you, where, when, and how.”
Good answer.
Nathalie leaned against the doorjamb and watched Andrew’s beautiful body move with the same elegant fluidity she’d noticed about the other immortals.
It was fun teasing him about his dirty mind, but that didn’t mean she wanted him to stop. Nathalie loved that Andrew was always hungry for her. He made her feel desired, beautiful.
“I love you,” she said.
His jeans halfway zipped, Andrew paused and reached for her. Nathalie went into his arms, placing her palms on the taut skin of his pectorals. He was still shirtless, and she was still naked, and the skin to skin felt incredibly good.
“I love you too.” He kissed her lips softly, an almost chaste kiss. “If you want to eat, you need to get dressed, baby. Seeing you naked makes me forget I have any needs other than being inside you.”
Reluctantly, she left the shelter of his arms. “You want me to try on that dress?” Another red number he’d claimed would look fantastic on her. If it were up to Andrew, she would be wearing nothing but red. Correction, she would be wearing nothing at all. Which was fine by her. Problem was, they seldom had the privacy to indulge in prolonged nudity.
Nathalie sighed. They needed to find a solution that would allow them to live as a couple and still provide for her father’s needs.
“You don’t have to wear the dress if you don’t want to.” Andrew misinterpreted her sigh.
“It’s not about the dress.” She pulled on a pair of black undies. “I was just thinking that we need to find a way to live as a couple; to have the privacy to be intimate with each other outside the bedroom, or walk around naked if we want to.”
“Where there is a will, there is a way. We’ll find a solution.”
As Nathalie finished dressing, she thought about Andrew’s reassurance. It was the same as saying everything would be fine. There was no way to predict with surety that indeed all would be well. No one could promise that. They needed to brainstorm solutions, maybe even get Kian and Syssi to brainstorm with them, and come up with a plan.
That’s how things got done.
When they finally made it to the living room, they were met by three pairs of amused eyes. Kian sat on the armchair he favored, his laptop resting on his knees, while Bridget sat across from him on the sofa, her doctor bag on the coffee table.
Syssi closed the book she’d been reading and smiled. “Hi, you two. You slept through dinner. Your plates are in the warming drawer.” She pointed toward the kitchen. “Okidu is not here, so help yourselves.”
“How did you know we were sleeping?” Andrew asked as he walked over to where she pointed.
Nathalie’s snort was echoed by Kian’s.
“This is one thing your transition didn’t cure. You still snore like a jackhammer,” his brother-in-law said without lifting his head.
Andrew flipped him off, but Kian’s eyes were glued to the screen of his laptop, and he didn’t see it. Or pretended not too.
After Nathalie had helped Andrew with the silverware and the napkins, they sat down to eat at the kitchen counter.
“When you are done eating, I want to do a check up on you,” Bridget said.
Andrew nodded with a full mouth. He was shoving food into it as if someone might take it away from him. Good thing that the plates Okidu had prepared for them were the size of platters and piled with enough to feed a family of ten. Humans, that is. Immortal males? Maybe one and a half.
When they were done, cleanup and all, they joined the others in the living room.
Bridget checked Andrew’s vitals and took a blood sample. She also took a few measurements to see if he was still growing, making notes of everything on her tablet.
“Stand up, I want to check your height.” Bridget took him by the elbow and walked him over to the nearest wall.
Nathalie smiled sadly. She remembered her mother checking her height and marking it on the kitchen wall. Eva had not allowed that wall to be repainted. Ever. There was no doubt in Nathalie’s mind that her mother loved her, and yet she had left, never to be heard from again. The home they had shared, along with all those happy moments embedded in its walls and its floorboards, had to be sold, the memories of growing up with two adoring parents gone with it.
She couldn’t understand how her mother could’ve done it. Even if she was on the run, she could’ve sent a postcard, or called from a public phone and let Nathalie know she was still alive. Didn’t she know how devastating it was for her daughter, not knowing if her mother was dead or alive?
Hopefully, Bhathian would find Eva, and Nathalie would get the answers she desperately needed.
Bridget retracted the measuring tape and put it back in her pocket. “If there was any growth, it’s minimal. Tomorrow, stop by the clinic so I can take accurate measurements.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“How are you feeling, any pains, aches, discomfort?”
Andrew chuckled. “I wouldn’t know. The pain meds you gave me are great. I feel the swelling in my gums, but it’s like uncomfortable pressure, not pain.”
Bridget patted his arm. “Smart man, following doctor’s orders. Anything else?”
Andrew scratched his head. “The sharpened senses are very disturbing. I’m sure that without the meds I would’ve had a bitch of a headache. Sometimes it’s so bad that I feel nauseated.”
Bridget turned to Nathalie. “I forgot to ask, but are you still getting nauseous?”
Nathalie shook her head. “I’m fine. It was the stress.”
Bridget nodded and turned back to Andrew. “I’m sorry, Andrew. You were saying?”
“That’s about it.” He scratched his head again. “I don’t know if it’s worth mentioning, but Nathalie smells differently to me now.”
Nathalie felt her cheeks heat up. What was wrong with him? Why was he bringing it up?
He cast her an apologetic glance. “Don’t get me wrong; she still smells amazing, just different. I don’t know if it’s me, or perhaps it’s something else. Could she…” He hesitated and cast her another glance. “Could it be an illness?”
Bridget smiled, which was weird considering Andrew’s obvious worry. “I think Nathalie is perfectly healthy, but I’ll run a few tests. In fact—” She turned to Nathalie. “Why don’t you come with me to the clinic now?”
“I feel fine, and I need to go get my father. Wi
lliam probably can’t wait to be free of him.”
Bridget lifted her doctor’s bag and motioned for Nathalie to follow. “We can stop by William’s on the way to the clinic and see what’s the status there. If they’re fine, we can continue to my examination room and run a few tests. If not, you can take your dad up, and we will meet tomorrow.”
As usual, Bridget was the definition of no-nonsense.
“Sounds like a plan. Let’s go.” Nathalie followed Bridget.
“I’m coming too,” Andrew said.
Bridget halted him with a hand on his chest. “No, there is no need for you to be there. Let the girl breathe, she’ll be perfectly fine without you hovering over her.”
Andrew looked a little miffed and lifted a questioning brow at Nathalie. “Do you want me to come with you?”
From behind his back, Bridget shook her head.
“I’ll be fine. I think you’ve had enough of that clinic. Right?”
By Andrew’s frown, he wasn’t happy about her leaving his side, but for some reason, Bridget didn’t want him to come.
“Text me if you want me to join you. Okay?”
“I will.” She kissed his cheek.
As they waited for the elevator, Nathalie didn’t dare risk asking Bridget anything. If Andrew’s hearing had become as good as Jackson’s, he would hear them even out in the vestibule. She waited for the elevator doors to close behind them and then for the lift to start its descent. “What was that all about?”
Bridget smiled and clasped Nathalie’s hand. “I’m almost sure you are pregnant. I didn’t know if you wanted Andrew to be there when we found out the results or not, and I couldn’t ask you in front of him. He provided the perfect excuse, and I seized it. Now you can decide if you want to find out first and then tell him, or if you want him to be there for the test results. If you do, you can text him to come down and join you before we start.”
Nathalie pulled her hand out of Bridget’s and crossed her arms over her chest. “I’m not pregnant. The nausea is gone, and besides, I’m not late. I’m due in a couple of days.” Her breasts were full, and her nipples were sensitive—same as every month before menstruating.