by S. E. Babin
"Come on, Wine Girl," he said, not unkindly and carried me down the hall.
With a goofy smile, I wrapped my arms around his neck and snuggled into his broad chest. I could feel the rapid beating of his heart. Either Martin was out of shape or I was affecting him in some way. I smiled against his shirt and closed my eyes.
8
Martin
There was no way in hell I was leaving Katie alone tonight. That girl was a massive mess. How someone could leave her over something that dumb and three times no less boggled my mind. But I was a man who didn't give a shit about extravagant wishes. I didn’t need much, only a tool in one hand and a cold beer in the other to enjoy life. A woman would have been nice, but sometimes I felt like Midnight Cove had only the slimmest of pickings. I was uninterested in witches because I was one. Technically. My magic was that of the Romani's. A world unlike the one of modern day witches. I was uninterested in their sprays and cauldrons and tendencies to rely on the Law of Attraction. Although, I didn't use much magic anymore. I'd found my calling by using my hands and my tools. People didn't really need magic for themselves when they were happy. Though I did the occasional bone and tea reading for relatives when they called, I'd all but retired from anything to do with magic.
Meeting Katie was making me rethink that, though. What had Portia been thinking when she'd taken away Katie's ability to disguise herself? On one hand I understood it. Katie was hiding from the world and when you did that, the world tended to catch up with you in the most unpleasant of ways.
I spoke from experience. Carrying Katie to her room was intimate in too many ways for me. She was beautiful. Her long dark hair fell across my arms and swept across my thighs as she lightly swung in cadence to my steps. Lush lashes curled upwards against her closed eyes and her beautiful golden skin was flawless. Her mouth was slightly open and her breathing quiet and steady. Partially thanks to the wine and most likely having a little bit due to exhaustion from stress.
I swung open her bedroom door, hesitating a minute at the threshold feeling like I was in some ways violating her privacy by coming into her space. With a shake of my head at being silly, I crossed into her room and was immediately hit by the smell I'd begun to automatically association with her - jasmine and honey. Her room was slightly cooler than the rest of the house and a light on top of her nightstand highlighted her apparent fascination with medieval history and bare chested men if the stack of romance novels littering it was any indication. An unbidden smile crossed my face as I gently laid her onto the four poster bed. Her covers were a dark grey with no pattern on it. It was an odd, masculine choice but it just highlighted how little I knew about the woman lying in front of me.
She sighed and shifted, and I gently pulled the covers on top of her, careful not to disturb her. I stood over her for a moment, marveling over her beauty until I had to sigh. Getting involved with a client would be an utter disaster. Even if she was gorgeous, made amazing cupcakes and had a smile that made me feel like I was having the best kind of heart attack.
I eased away from her bed and quietly made my way to the door but I paused just before stepping out. Judging from the sheer amount of wine she'd drank tonight, Katie was going to wake up with the mother of all hangovers. I let out a snort. For the second time around me. If I hadn't known what she'd gone through, I might have wondered if she had a drinking problem.
I turned around and stepped into the connecting bathroom. A quick search through her medicine cabinets revealed a bottle of ibuprofen. I shut the cabinet quickly before the urge to snoop turned the best of intentions into something a little creepier. I shook out two pills from the bottle, set it on the counter, and hurried into the kitchen to get a glass of water. I crept back into her bedroom, set both on the nightstand, switched off the light, and made my way back into the living room.
I slipped off my shoes, punched one of the couch pillows to try to adjust it to my liking and laid down on her oversized couch, pleasantly surprised to find it was comfortable. I didn't make a habit of staying over a client's house, but I also didn't make a habit of carrying them to bed either. I crossed my arms behind my head and stared at the ceiling for awhile, my mind racing with thoughts.
Katie was an enigma. I'd been working for her awhile and the only thing I knew about her was she'd been dumped multiple times and that she was a jinn. Oh, and she liked to bake. She moved like a cat, sleek and silent, and she hid who she was from the world. Was I seeing the real her? Or was I seeing the facets that she fabricated in order to avoid showing me her real self?
I sighed. Tonight felt real. I was seeing a woman in the very real throes of grief over her relationships ending so horribly and her fears that her life as she knew it was going to be over. And I wasn't sure I could do anything at all to protect her. That thought had me shifting uncomfortably. How could I help a woman without getting in too deep? She obviously had no desire to date again. At least right now. But could I really continue to pretend that Katie didn't cross my thoughts during every waking hour?
I groaned quietly and shoved a pillow over my face.
I was a contractor to her.
Nothing more.
The sooner I started acting like it, the easier this would be for me when the job was finished.
9
I woke up with a mouth full of cotton and a marching band with a grudge in my head. I blew out a pained breath, blinked rapidly and let out a low moan. Wine was the devil. A fruity, delicious devil.
I lifted one hand to press it in the middle of my brows and winced as additional pain hit me in the brain. "Ouch. Aaaagh." I gingerly rolled over only to see my salvation sitting right in front of my eyeline. Two pills and a large glass of water. Hydration was the enemy of hangovers. I pulled the pills toward me and sat up best I could to drink the water.
I got the pills down and slithered back under my pillows and waited for them to work.
Twenty minutes later I could get up without thinking I was going to die. Granted, I still didn't feel amazing, but each step didn't make me want to hurl, so that was progress. I made my way into the bathroom, brushed my teeth thoroughly, because...gross, and winced as I looked in the mirror. Yesterday's mascara had escaped its prison and made an obstacle course down my cheeks. In addition to the rare pale pallor of my face, I looked like a woman who had been sentenced to death row and could not even deal. I turned the faucet on to cold, grabbed a washcloth and wet it thoroughly. I soaked my face with the rags, then wrung them out and pressed the cloth to the back of my neck. I was a hot damn mess. The memories of last night came back in a clamor of panic and I groaned as I stared at myself. "You're an idiot," I whispered. I'd told Martin I was a jinn. But when I let the thought slide through me, I wasn't as upset as I should have been. First because I liked him. A lot. Second because everyone in the entire town probably already knew my secret thanks to the tricks of Portia Kadish. I was going to find a way to pay her back in spades. Somehow.
I tossed the washcloth over the faucet and dried my face off. I slung my hair up in a messy ponytail and walked out of the bedroom.
The sound of quiet breathing stopped me in my tracks. I froze like a deer in the headlights and frantically looked around for a bat. But I couldn't stop the panicked whistle of breath as I repeatedly whispered, "Shit, shit shit," over and over again. I settled for a rolling pin I kept on a hook right inside the kitchen, and crept into the living room with it raised over my head.
There was someone on my couch. Someone big by the looks of it, but I couldn't see who it was because their face was covered.
No one should be here.
"Aaaaagh!" I screamed as I ran over and was about to swing the pin down.
The stranger jerked upright just as the pin was about to make contact. "WHAT THE FUCK?" screamed Martin.
His quick reflexes were the only thing that saved him from scrambled brains because I was already too committed to pull back. One powerful arm reached up to stop the pin, the other caught me as I stumbl
ed forward and fell onto him.
"Ooof," he grunted as he bore the full weight of me.
"Martin! What the hell are you doing here?"
His dark gaze caught mine and I immediately realized my awkward positioning. "What the hell am I doing here? What the hell are you doing with a rolling pin acting like a crazy woman? You were hammered last night! I put you to bed and didn't feel comfortable leaving until you woke up!"
Every inch of me felt Martin's lean body. I licked my lips, closed my eyes, and tried to scoot my way off of him. His gaze darkened with something that wasn't anger but made me feel all squirmy inside. "So sorry," I muttered. "So sorry."
Amusement lit his face. "Perhaps if you let go of the rolling pin, you'd be able to get off?"
My hand immediately let go and I felt my cheeks darken with humiliation. "I'm such an idiot," I whispered as I clambered off of him.
Martin lay there rumpled and gorgeous as all get out, dark stubble caressing his cheeks making him look like a roguish pirate. "Well, I guess this makes me feel a little better knowing you aren't prone to allowing strangers to sleep on your couch."
His cheeks reddened as he said it.
Martin sounded...possessive. Part of me recoiled, but the other part I refused to acknowledge melted like warm butter. "Not usually," I admitted. "I rarely stayed here until recently."
At that, Martin's expression shut down and I cursed myself for referring to Jeff. "Right," he said as he kicked off the blanket. He was still wearing yesterday's clothing. "Sorry, Katie. I'll let myself out. I was just worried about you." He shook his head. "Stupid, I know."
I opened my mouth, shut it, and let out an embarrassed groan. "No. Please. Don't apologize. At all. What you did was very kind. Please." I held out a hand, beseeching him to stay. "Let me make you breakfast."
He stilled with his shoes in one hand. "Really?"
I gave him a hopeful smile. "Really. Also, please allow me to apologize for my behavior last night."
He snorted. "No apologies necessary. The fact that was all that you did is a testament to your strength. If I'd gone through what you have, I don't think just a bottle of wine would do for my subsequent self-destruction."
A small smile peeked out of the corner of my mouth, though my heart wasn't in it. "I really am getting better."
Martin’s look was doubtful, but he gave me a short nod. "My plan was to get started right away, but I really need a shower and to grab some additional stuff from the shop. Mind if I come back around lunch time?"
I shook my head. "Not if you let me feed you first."
"Deal."
Having a sexy, rumpled Martin in my kitchen before 9am did funny things to my insides, but I gave myself a mental pep talk as I started the process to make him cheese blintzes. It was a fancy breakfast for sure, but I had no desire to go to work, nor did I desire to go outside. Not even a little bit. The second I left this house was the second my normal life would be over. Being inside, with Martin strangely enough, felt like a cocoon or an oasis. Even though most of the house was in shambles, right now it was a sanctuary. Nothing inside could harm me. Going outside was a different story. Here I was just Katie. And Martin was just Martin.
He sat on one of my new barstools and watched me as I worked. "How long have you been cooking?" he asked, breaking the comfortable silence between us.
I shrugged one shoulder as I loaded the blender with eggs, flour, sugar, vanilla and the other batter ingredients. "I was in the kitchen with my mother as long as I can remember." I smiled as I remembered. "She had the patience of a saint. None of the control issues. She allowed me to help whenever I asked her and my father dutifully swallowed down some of my worst experiences. But she continued to teach me, but she also allowed me to experiment. This -" I pointed at the blender, "is the result of her efforts. I can make whatever I want usually by memory now. So Mom makes me cook when I come over. She says I'm better at it now and that I owe her for eating all of my earlier culinary experiments."
Martin's deep laughter disturbed the deep recesses of my broken heart.
"Your mom sounds like a wonderful lady."
I closed the top of the blender. "She is." I turned it on and silence fell once again. After about thirty seconds, I shut if off, opened the lid, scraped the mixture down and turned it on one more time to make sure everything was combined. When it finished, I shut it off, and grabbed a large, shallow edged round pan. From the fridge I grabbed butter and added a pat onto the pan and turned the heat on medium.
While that was cooking, I added ricotta, powdered sugar, lemon zest, an egg and a touch of salt to a mixing bowl. Before I started stirring it together, I looked at Martin. "Any objections to a raw egg in your filling?"
Martin shrugged. "Safe enough, I suppose."
"I get these from Walker's farms. His chickens are magical." My lips twisted and I let out a laugh. "Maybe actually magical, but what I meant was I've never seen healthier chickens. All of them are out of their pens wreaking general havoc around his house. You practically have to be a ninja to get inside to pay for eggs."
Martin smiled. "Seems like you really go the extra mile to get good eggs."
"Delicious food is the product of the ingredients you source. I like food, Martin, so I make an extra effort to ensure I only buy the best."
A wide grin stretched his mouth as he pretended to pull out a notebook and scratch something on the imaginary surface.
"What?" I demanded.
"Katie Harper is a food snob," he declared and punctuated his "notes" with a stab at the paper. "This is the column of Things I Didn't Know About Katie, versus the things I do know."
I snorted. "Which one is winning?"
He pretended to consult his notes. "Ah, definitely things I didn't know."
"I also have a black belt in Karate," I growled.
Martin chuckled as he pretended to write. "Also, Katie threatens people with violence on multiple occasions."
I let out a surprised laugh and began to stir the filling. "Jerk," I said with no heat.
He grinned at me, dark eyes sparkling.
The butter snapping in the pan made me turn away. I flipped open the spout to the blender and poured the first blintz into the pan. I let the conversation drop because I couldn't concentrate on these and talk at the same time. Blintzes were a little trickier than a pancake. They were much thinner and required a deft hand to keep them from breaking. I successfully flipped the first one onto the plate, turned and stuck the filling in the fridge and got to work on the next few.
Within five minutes, several of them were ready to be filled. I asked Martin to get the ricotta mixture out of the fridge.
"Want me to fill them?" he asked.
I looked at him in surprise. "Sure. I can take care of the rest of these while you do that. Just don't fill them if they're too warm. The filling will melt."
He gave me a mock salute. "Got it."
I busied myself making the rest of them and when the last of the batter was poured into the pan, I turned and found Martin had filled all but a few. I smiled in delight as I grabbed a lemon from the fruit bowl and a zester from the drawer by the stove. I set them down, grabbed the powder sugar and sprinkled some over them and zested a little bit of the lemon onto each. I pushed the first plate over to him, offered him a cup of coffee which he accepted, and went on to make mine.
"Oh my god, Katie," Martin mumbled as he took the first bite.
I sipped my coffee and grinned at him. "Good?"
He stared at me like I was insane.
"Good?" he said with a choke. "These are amazing. Also, how have I never had blintzes before?"
"I think they're mostly an eastern coast food. No one in the south has ever heard of them."
Martin blinked at me. "You've traveled?"
I nodded and cut a small piece of my breakfast. "Before I settled here, I traveled all over the country. It was wanderlust, I guess. I wanted to see the world before I fully committed to staying here."
>
"Did you like it?"
I hesitated. On one hand, I'd loved it. "The human world is strange to me. They're so driven to work, work, work. Success is at the forefront of a lot of their minds. But another portion of them is content to let the world hand them everything. It's a very strange and at odds way to live. The successful ones are angry at the content ones because they feel like they're giving things up to them while the content ones think the successful ones should relax more. I think they're constantly angry at one another and cannot effectively communicate."
"Do you think they can fix it?"
I shook my head. "Communication failure is rampant there. Everyone is too hesitant to speak their truths, so they hold on and wait for someone else to do it. I find the whole thing...disturbing." I smiled as the memories came back. "But that isn't to say there isn't beauty. There is. A lot of it. There are places that are indescribable." I grinned at him. "And the food." I looked up at the ceiling. "The food is amazing."
"So that's where you discovered cheese blintzes?"
"New York. They're very popular there."
His gaze looked contemplative. "And the cupcakes?"
I laughed as I took another bite. "All me, I'm afraid."
"You're an interesting person, Katie Harper."
I tried to hide my blush by lifting my coffee mug, but the amusement in his eyes told me I was unsuccessful.
"So tell me. Why aren't you dating anyone?"
Martin choked on his blintz. With watering eyes he glanced at me in surprise. "Me?"
Both my eyebrows rose. "You're the only one in this kitchen."
He huffed out a laugh and tried to delay by sipping his coffee. Finally, he shrugged. "I guess I haven't found the right person."