Just His Taste

by Candice Gilmer

  Jason sipped on his drink. “I swear, it’s God’s honest truth.”

  Ava shook her head. “And the coach believed you?”

  Jason shrugged. “Hey, I was a v-v-varsity wrestler. She was a wrestling manager. We had every reason to be in the guys’ locker room together.” He cringed at his stutter, but Ava didn’t say anything.

  Maybe she doesn’t notice it?

  The ornery look on her face pulled him from his thoughts. “Naked?” she asked, eyebrow raised.

  “Wrestlers weigh in naked all the time.”

  She smirked. “You, sir, are naughty.”

  Jason raised his eyebrow. “Haven’t you ever been naughty?”

  “Sure,” she replied.

  “I told you mine.”

  She adjusted her grip on the glass, lacing her fingers together, covering the tumbler. “Let me see.”

  “You have to think about it?”

  “My conscience isn’t as guilty as yours.”

  “I’m n-n-not guilty.” He sighed, frustrated.

  “Sure you’re not.” She took a drink, then met his gaze, a sparkle shining in her eyes. “Okay. There was this one time, back in my younger days, when I was supposed to be gathering berries, and the stableboy—”

  “You had a stableboy?”

  She blinked, frozen for a second, like she didn’t understand the question.

  “Were you rich or something?”

  She shook her head. “No. Not at all. My family worked at an estate. I helped in the kitchen.”

  “Oh. Go on.” He took another sip of his drink.

  “Well, I’d gotten an apronful of berries—blackberries, I think—and ran back to the barn to get a basket because I knew what I had wasn’t enough. Anyway the…uh…”

  “Stableboy.”

  She smirked again. “Yes. He grabbed me, smashed me against him and started kissing me.”

  The idea of smashing her against him certainly held promise. “Yes?”

  “Well, we were smashed together. So were the berries. I was covered in juice stains after we tussled in the hay. Which could have been explained away, really. Except he had the same stains all over his clothing.”

  Jason burst out laughing.

  “Even worse? My father caught us!”

  “Oh no, that’s never good.”

  Ava laughed. “No, it wasn’t. I was shipped off after that to stay with my aunt—to tame my wildness.”

  Jason paused, his drink hovering near his lips. “Did it?”

  “Nope. Just taught me how to channel it better.”

  “And that would be?”

  “Regular sex.”

  “You have no filter, do you?”

  “I do too,” she replied. “You’d be surprised what I don’t say.”

  He shook his head, set down his glass and put his hand on hers.

  Perhaps her lack of filter will explain…

  “Why did you leave Saturday?” Every detail had come back about that night, and he couldn’t believe he’d forgotten even a moment. Just remembering…

  Against the van.

  It sent a new wash of desire through him. Between that and tonight’s “pretend” encounters, he was wound tight, desire burning. All he wanted to do was…

  Yeah. That.

  Her cheeks blushed under the low light in the living room, and she leaned forward, setting her own glass beside his before responding. “We’d just met. It didn’t seem right to—”

  “To come home with me?”

  “Exactly.”

  “You didn’t give me your number. Or get mine.”

  She nodded.

  A thought came to Jason. “You’re in a r-r-relationship with that guy.”

  She furrowed her brow. “What guy?”

  “That guy from the wedding.”

  Her eyes widened, and her mouth formed a little O as she leaned back. She pulled her hands away and waved them in the air. “No. Oh no. Absolutely not. In fact, the next time I see him, I may punch him.”

  Jason smirked at the fire in her eyes. “I’d be happy to do it for you.”

  She laughed. “You’re pretty great.”

  “I’ve heard that.”

  She laughed again. “And so modest.”

  “Well, I d-d-do what I can.” He grimaced.

  Ava tipped her head to the side. “What’s with the stutter?”

  Jason froze, unsure how to answer. For most of his life, he’d been patronized—or worse, pitied—because of the stumble in his words, but he’d never actually just been asked.

  It was both unnerving and refreshing.

  “Always done it,” he said, not looking at her. “Though it’s b-been worse lately.”

  “Stress?” Ava asked.

  He shrugged. “Sort of. It’s my brain. Can’t get out what I want to say. I get excited or passionate, and stumble. It’s there. In my head.” He paused, feeling another stutter coming on. After swallowing, he continued, “But my mouth can’t make the words.”

  “I assume you’ve been to speech therapists about it?”

  He shrugged. “Aside from elementary school, not really. My dad does it. Mom never seemed to mind. So I never minded,” he lied.

  “Then why aren’t you looking me in the eye, telling me this?” Ava asked.

  He snapped his gaze back to hers. “Would you t-t-take a c-c-cop seriously if he st-st-stuttered when reading your rights?” His voice rose.

  “It’s okay, Jason. I get it. Don’t yell at me.”

  “I wasn’t yelling.”

  “You were trying.” She took his hand and scooted in closer. “I get it, I do. A big guy like you, with a speech impediment—”

  “Shut up, Ava.” Jason grabbed her by the back of the neck, and jerked her into a kiss. A hard, fast and very hot kiss.

  She groaned against him, her hands on his chest. His head rocked back and forth, and the little noises she made only egged him on.

  Her hands clenched his shirt, and with more force than he expected, she pushed him back.

  “You don’t have to prove your masculinity to me,” she said.

  “I wasn’t—”

  “Really?”

  He bristled. Pissed that she’d called him out. Even more pissed he was that transparent.

  She wrapped an arm around him. “Listen, I still think you’re very attractive. Sexy as hell, really. And I think it makes you even sexier, since you do stutter a little.”

  “H-how?”

  “Makes you more human. Everyone has something.”

  “What’s yours?”

  She looked at the floor and let out a sigh. “Falling for the wrong guy.”

  “So what am I?” Jason asked.

  “The wrong guy. Completely and totally the wrong guy.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  “Does that mean you’ve fallen for me?” Jason whispered, his hand running down her side.

  Ava gulped.

  Because now she’d done it. She’d really done it.

  “It means,” she said, shifting a little, “that I—” The words died on her tongue. One look in his eyes, and she knew she couldn’t bullshit her way out of this.

  “Yes?”

  “I really shouldn’t be as attracted to you as I am,” Ava said.

  “Why not?” he whispered.

  “Because,” she replied. Yet no good reason—at least not one that she could tell him, anyway—came to mind.

  “Because why?”

  She pushed herself off the couch. “I can’t begin to explain why being attracted to you is a bad thing.” She paced around the living room, running her hands through her hair.

  Jason leaned forward, resting his arms on his thighs. “So explain it to me.”

  S
he sighed. “If I do that, you’re going to think I’m crazy.”

  “I’ve seen a lot of crazy stuff.”

  She smirked. And decided—to hell with the rules. She had to tell him. Because if she didn’t, there was no way she’d be able to help him get his HEA.

  And that was what it was all about. Getting the mortal his Happily Ever After. His HEA was Tessa, and she had to make this work. No matter what.

  She stood up straight, rocked her head back and forth to pop her neck, and put her hands on her hips.

  “Jason Gregorian, my name is Avalynn Fay. I am your Fairy Godmother.”

  Jason burst out laughing. “I have to admit, I haven’t heard that one before.” Though he could barely get the words out.

  “I am,” she said, not too pleased that he was busting a gut at her admission.

  He finally managed to calm down. “Fine. Then, Fairy-Godmother-O’-Mine, prove it.”

  “You were injured in an accident while working as a beat cop a few years ago. That’s why you quit the force and started doing private investigating with your father.”

  “I told you that.”

  “You dated Tessa for a year. She broke up with you because you were injured, and she didn’t think you’d make anything of yourself doing PI work for your dad.”

  “Good guess.”

  Ava closed her eyes, trying to remember something from his file. Anything.

  Then one thing came to mind. One of those minor little notes that didn’t seem like anything at the time. “The reason you wrestled had nothing to do with your father. It was your mother’s family legacy, not his. She pushed you to compete. And even coached you, to a degree.”

  Jason blinked. “H-h-how?”

  Ava crossed her arms again. “I told you, I’m your Fairy Godmother. It’s all in your file.”

  He shook his head. “I never told anyone that.”

  “Listen, Jason,” She sat back on the couch again. “I know this is weird. Hell, it’s utterly insane, as far as I am concerned. I’ve never had to reveal myself to a charge. But this time I have to. I have to explain why I can’t be attracted to you.” She took his hand. “You deserve to know why we shouldn’t have feelings of any kind for each other.”

  He pulled away and stood. “I’ve heard some really amazing stories. I have. But this one truly takes the cake.” Now it was his turn to pace the living room.

  “I’m not lying to you.”

  “I don’t know how you have all that personal stuff about me. Frankly, I don’t want to know. But I do know this—it’s a really shitty way to tell someone you don’t like them, to make up such a bullshit story like this.”

  “Jason, I’m not—”

  “Don’t. I’m gonna give you one shot. One time to prove your case to me. Show me something. Prove that you’re what you say you are. Because until you can prove it, you’re just another crackhead.”

  “So I’m a crackhead now?”

  “Well, a sane person doesn’t come up with shit like that.”

  “Fine,” Ava said, more than a little irritated. “You want proof, you got it.” She stood and exhaled a breath.

  A gust of wind fluttered through the room as her rosy-red wings burst from her back, and the lamp on the end table fell over, smashing to the floor.

  Jason’s eyes widened and he fell back, passed out cold.

  “Lovely,” Ava muttered, wincing as her wings softly fluttered. “Now what am I going to do with him?”

  Ava rubbed her brow. Jason’s passing out wound up being a good thing after all. Not that she would have expected a guy like him to actually pass out. It was probably the alcohol mixed with the shock.

  Yeah. That was what she would tell herself.

  Otherwise, she’d start laughing again. Because it was damn funny when he went down.

  She’d moved him to the couch—and thank goodness for magic, because she never could have lifted him. She cleaned up the house too—dishes, the broken lamp, and dusted the place. Okay, the last part was for her own anal retentiveness—she had a thing about dust.

  Her wings ached, but they appreciated being stretched after hiding while in full-human form for so many hours. Her sprain pulsed, and she shot a wad of healing magic at it. Not being a healer, the magic wasn’t very potent, but it dulled the pain.

  At least enough to figure out if she was done here.

  “Okay, I think I’ve got everything…” She glanced around. “Now, I should leave him a note or something…”

  “You leaving?” Jason’s voice rasped out the words.

  She spun around. “You’re awake.”

  He nodded. “Have been for the last thirty minutes.”

  Ava raised her eyebrow. “And you didn’t say anything, why?”

  “Because I still thought I was dreaming.” He rubbed his head. “You really are…what, a fairy?”

  Ava nodded. “Surprise.”

  “I d-don’t recall asking for a surprise.”

  She shrugged. “That’s the beauty of them—they aren’t always what you think you want.”

  He stared at her for a minute, and she felt his gaze running over her body—almost a tactile sensation. Was he taking her in, looking for other abnormalities?

  She shivered from his strong stare.

  “Are you…made different?”

  She raised her eyebrow. “I have wings and can use magic…do the math.”

  He shook his head, then rubbed his brow. “Would we have, well, even b-b-been able to, uh, make love?”

  She smiled. “Actually, yes. All those parts are the same.”

  “Spread your wings.” The tone he said that in sent another shiver through her, though it wasn’t out of discomfort. Like a blast, the sexual tension that had been rocketing between them all night came back full force.

  “Why?” she whispered.

  “They look huge.”

  “You have no idea.” The wings spread out behind her. Careful not to knock over anything else, she fluttered them to rise off the ground by a few inches.

  Jason sat up, staring. “Good God,” he muttered. “Are they bone?”

  “Like a bird’s. Hollow.”

  He nodded. “I just… How did you… When?”

  “The assignment?” Ava asked. “Oh, at the bachelor party, actually.”

  Jason blinked.

  “You all were talking with Roark, about wanting the happy that William had?”

  “I don’t remember saying that I wanted that.”

  She shrugged. “Well, you sorta did. It was enough, anyway.”

  “What about Bruce and Roark?”

  “They have their own. We work in trios. Makes the positive charge in the universe bigger.”

  “You will have to explain that to me when I’m more sober.”

  She nodded. “Now, if you don’t mind, I’m exhausted. I need to get some sleep.”

  “Oh, do you need a ride somewhere?”

  “Magic,” she said. “I can go wherever I want.”

  “Convenient.” Jason stood up, rubbing his head as he did, and came toward her. “Will you be back?”

  Ava nodded. “I have to. I have to bring you your Happily Ever After.”

  “I assume you have someone in mind?”

  “Yes. We can work on a plan later, okay?”

  The awkward tension between them was still there, but it was muted. The desire still sizzled and sparked, but it had come down a few notches.

  At least Ava hoped it was enough. Because they had work to do.

  “See you later, Jason.”

  “Bye, Ava.”

  She waved her hand in the air, and as she disappeared, she could see Jason’s perplexed look, and she wondered if he believed what he saw.

  She sure as Hades didn’t believe what she�
��d done.

  Maybe she should have just climbed in bed with him…

  Might have been easier to explain than this.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Saturday Afternoon

  Jason shook his head and made himself stare at his computer screen. He had work to do, and he needed to ignore that prickly feeling creeping into his subconscious.

  Every cop he knew had some form of sixth sense. None would ever claim to be psychic or anything like that, but police officers and detectives listened to their guts.

  And his screamed he wasn’t alone. The difference between this particular feeling and the ones he’d experienced on the force was it wasn’t threatening.

  “Feel like I’m being watched again,” Jason muttered. He’d felt it off and on the last couple days. He thought he knew what it was, but hadn’t had any confirmation.

  “Ava,” he said, hopefully loud enough to get her attention.

  He still hadn’t completely come to terms with her being a fairy. That just opened a whole other realm of existence he wasn’t prepared to acknowledge. If there were fairies, would there be other mythical creatures?

  A poof of sparkly, reddish smoke manifested, and from that, Ava appeared.

  Confirmed his suspicions.

  “I am impressed that you can tell when I’m here.”

  “Latent cop tendency.” He didn’t look at her. He really didn’t want to.

  Really.

  As gorgeous as any other time he’d seen her, she framed that gorgeous today in a dark-leather bodysuit reminiscent of Marvel’s Black Widow.

  Yeah, he didn’t need to be looking at her. Really, he didn’t.

  Ava grabbed a chair, spun it around and straddled it. Jason had to make himself focus on his computer screen and the panels of photos he’d taken. Otherwise, he’d be staring at those legs and fighting a chubby.

  Hell, he already was.

  Shit.

  “Is this the real you?” Jason asked, noticing that her wings were folded neatly against her back, her red hair falling over her shoulders in a tangled wavy mess that he just wanted to stick his hands in and—

  Holy shit.

  “Yep.” She shifted, and the leather squeaked against the chair.

  Not exactly how he imagined a fairy to look. Hell, his wet dreams had nothing on that bodysuit. He tried to keep his tone light. “F-f-figured fairies would be all sparkles and glitter and shit.”