by Kathy Love
“Oh, no, the groceries,” she cried, ignoring the bag with her clothes and heading to the many food-filled bags. She began rooting through them, looking for the items that should have been refrigerated. A few things like some hot-dogs, sandwich meat, and a container of potato salad gave her a little concern so she threw them out. But for the most part, everything was salvageable. She put the cans and dried goods in her cupboards and the fresh fruit and veggies in her fridge. The old Frigidaire was definitely the fullest she’d ever seen it.
She turned back to grab the last bag outside of the one containing her clothes. Christian’s odd assortment of toiletries. She started to leave them in the white plastic bag on the counter then paused, pulling out the bottles to examine them one at a time.
“He bought these for me,” she murmured. She opened the bottle of shampoo, sniffing in the clean, floral scent. She glanced back at her cupboard and then to the closed fridge.
“You are such a sneak,” she said with a shake of her head, referring to Christian. “You bought all this for me.”
Which explained why he kept asking her if she liked this and that. And why he’d seemed so overwhelmed. He’d been shopping for her. She shook her head again, but love expanded her chest. She picked up the toiletries and the bag of clothes and headed down the hallway. She paused in her bedroom doorway to watch him sleep, her chest swelling with so much love it was almost painful.
“I love you,” she whispered, then headed to the bathroom with her new treasures. She loved him. She was absolutely head over heels in love with her battered knight. He might be battered, but she knew she could heal him. She could make him whole again.
*
Sometimes the best ideas came from the simplest things. Jolee stared at the old black phone mounted on the wall near her office door. The ancient, rotary-style device had just rung moments earlier, a woman asking if Leo’s was going to have karaoke tonight. And if a tall blond guy was going to be bartending tonight.
Jolee said yes to both questions, not feeling the least bit irritated with the woman’s query about Christian. She could hardly blame her female patrons for looking. He was gorgeous. And as long as they only looked, more power to them.
But her female clientele’s interest in her lover wasn’t what triggered her brilliant idea. It had been that old phone itself.
She stared at the black relic for a moment, debating if the idea was truly brilliant or incredibly bad. Sometimes it was hard to tell.
She nibbled her bottom lip, then lifted the receiver. The idea was worth a shot, and the likelihood it would even work was pretty low. She poked her finger into the correct holes, twirling the plastic circle, then she waited. An automated voice asked her for city and state.
She guessed. “Manhattan, New York.”
“Name please.”
What was the name? She frowned, almost ready to hang up when the name came to her.
“Rhys Young.”
The line went dead for a moment.
Then the automated voice said in clear, monotone enunciation, “I’m sorry there is no number under that listing.”
Damn. She hung up and dialed information again. This time she tried Sebastian.
The line was quiet for several moments and she decided her idea was foiled. Then the computerized voice said, “Please hold for that number.”
She scrambled to find a pen near the cash register. She ripped off a scrap of receipt paper from the credit card machine and scribbled down the numbers as the monotone voice repeated the number for the second time.
She stared at the digits as the voice on the receiver told her they could dial the number for her for an additional seventy-five cents. She pushed down the receiver, still staring at the paper. She could talk to Christian’s brothers. She could tell them that he was sorry for the rift. She knew he was. She’d seen the pain in his eyes when he talked about them. Maybe she could help them end this fight. Or maybe she’d just make things worse.
She nibbled her lip again, then picked up the handset. She slowly dialed the numbers and waited as the phone rang. Maybe no one was home. Just as she was about to hang up, an answering machine picked up, the voice on the other end in complete opposition to the computerized voice of the phone company.
“Hello there. You’ve reached Carfax Abbey. Please leave a message and I will get back to you as soon as possible.”
Christian’s brother. Even though Jolee couldn’t see the speaker, and he hadn’t given his name, she could almost hear the relationship in his voice. The same amazingly sexy richness to his tone, and a hint of the same unusual accent.
The machine beeped, prompting her to leave a message, and this time she didn’t hesitate.
“Hi, my name is Jolee Dugan, and I’m trying to reach Rhys and/or Sebastian Young. I know your brother Christian, and I just wanted to let you know that he’s fine. And that he really wants to talk with you.” She paused, wondering what else she should add. “He’s working at my bar in Shady Fork, West Virginia. And my number at the bar is 304-555-7678. I look forward to hearing from you.”
She carefully hung up the receiver, keeping a hand on the phone for a moment. Maybe this had been a mistake. She was meddling, and it wasn’t her right. She and Christian had only been together for a little while. A very little while.
“No, Christian needs to talk to his family,” she said determinedly to herself, picking up the piece of paper with the number and slipping it under the register.
She turned back to the empty bar, feeling oddly deflated after the build-up of courage. But she busied herself with prepping the bar to open. Jed would be here soon to chat and then Christian would come. She’d done the right thing. And even if she hadn’t, Christian would realize she’d only done it to be helpful and forgive her. She hoped.
*
Christian had debated not showing up at the bar tonight. Even though he knew he had to end things with Jolee, he couldn’t bring himself to leave her in a lurch. And it was a good thing he didn’t, he noted as he entered the barroom. Leo’s was hopping.
Jolee, who hustled around the filled tables with a tray balanced on one hand, didn’t see him right away. She talked to the guy who’d been admiring her the other night. He was admiring her still. And who wouldn’t? She was wearing the red polka dot skirt and red knit top he’d bought her, and even though most of the outfit was covered with a white bar apron, he and the admirer could see a good length of her lovely legs.
Christian immediately started in their direction, but stopped. He could hardly act like the jealous beau when he was planning to walk away. He planned to leave Shady Fork tonight. His departure would hurt and confuse Jolee, but it was for the best.
“Hi.” Jolee’s voice snapped him out of his painful reverie.
He hadn’t even realized she’d approached him. Strange, since her scent was so strong around him. But her scent seemed to stay with him always. He wondered if it would after he was gone, hundreds of miles away. He stared at her wide, beautiful smile, but couldn’t speak. Pain choked him. How could he leave this woman?
Her wonderful smile faded into a frown. “Christian? What is wrong?”
He shook his head, still unable to speak. Hell wasn’t self-imposed squalor. It wasn’t living like a pauper. It wasn’t even tending bar in a rundown dive. Hell was never seeing this woman again. He’d found his ultimate punishment.
“You need to eat, don’t you?” she said, giving him one of her reprimanding looks. Then she caught his hand and tugged him toward the bar.
“Come on, I brought you an orange and a yogurt, because I knew you wouldn’t remember to eat. You really need to be more careful.”
She released his hand once she reached her tote bag stowed under the bar. She squatted down to rummage through the old, battered tote. He’d meant to buy her another one. He forgot. She stood, holding out the promised snack. He accepted them, his chest tightening unbearably at her indulgent smile.
“Don’t you take a single drin
k order until you’ve eaten those. I can’t have my man feeling ill.” She winked at him, then turned to leave, but he caught her wrist. When she gave him a questioning look, he pulled her against him and kissed her, desperation making him a little rough. How was he going to survive without her?
After they parted, she grinned up at him. “Wow, remind me to provide you with a snack more often.”
She kissed him again quickly before skipping off to the karaoke booth, red and white polka dots dancing around her long, gorgeous legs.
“Woo-wee,” Jed said from his usual perch. “You two got it bad.”
Christian considered denying it, letting the man know what a jerk he was, but he couldn’t.
“Yeah, I got it bad.”
“Well, that’s good. You two are good for each other. I can tell these things.”
Christian approached him, considering the old man’s words. “How can you tell?”
“Hell, you don’t get to be my age without learning a thing or two. I even had a grand love of my own once. Gertie.” Jed winked. “A fine woman.”
Christian studied the old man, a man that was probably over a hundred years younger than himself. Wrinkles scored his leathery cheeks, and there was no hint of what his original hair color had once been. Now it was only a wild shock of white. But his blue eyes were not clouded by age or by hard living. They were bright and shrewd. The eyes of a wise man hidden in a derelict body.
Christian marveled at that. That he’d lived far longer than Jed. He’d experienced far more, yet this old mortal was far more insightful. For the first time, Christian longed for his immortality to truly disappear, not because of his past behavior as a vampire, but because he wanted the knowledge and understanding that maybe only came from aging. Truly aging.
He glanced at Jolee as she put out the songbooks and chatted with the patrons. He wanted to grow old with this woman. The realization startled him. Just like the notion of loving a mortal, the idea of aging, of turning into the stiff, stooped man across the bar from him, had once repulsed him. He’d found nothing admirable in the process of the body winding down after a too short life. But now, he couldn’t imagine any more worthy purpose than growing old in the arms of the woman he loved. In sharing life with her. A real life. And all his love.
He was nothing more than a perfect shell, existing on the fringe of life. Jed had lived. Jed had experienced life. And he’d learned from it. So had Jolee. Christian was suddenly humbled by that. Christian had only started to learn. And it was far too late.
“It’s damned overwhelming, ain’t it?” Jed said, drawing Christian’s attention back to him.
“What?”
“That kind of love. The real kind.”
Again surprise shook Christian. It was as though Jed was somehow picking up his feelings, using some sort of preternatural sense. But the old man wasn’t. He just knew. He’d lived through what Christian was only experiencing for the first time.
“Yes, it is very overwhelming,” Christian admitted. Then he added, “I don’t deserve her.”
Jed nodded, again as if he knew that exact feeling.
Then Jolee’s softly accented voice rang out over the microphone. “Thank you for coming to Leo’s tonight. I’m going to get the karaoke started with a song I dedicate to my sweetheart.”
Jolee smiled across the room at him, her dark eyes glittering with happiness and desire. Once more, Christian was practically brought to his knees by a rush of humility. Humbled that this amazing, beautiful, compassionate woman cared about him. She started to sing, her sweet, slightly husky voice filling the room, telling him that he alone gave her the sweetest taboo. That she didn’t quite feel worthy of him, either.
He took a deep breath, and told himself that he did have to leave. He did. Leaving would be the only noble thing he’d ever done.
CHAPTER 25
The remainder of the night was very busy. Jolee was kept tied up at the karaoke booth for most of the evening, and Christian was occupied with drink orders. The majority of the patrons tonight were female, she couldn’t help noticing. Many of the women repeatedly approached the bar to talk with Christian, but tonight their attempts to flirt didn’t bother her— much. Christian showed no interest in them. He appeared to be polite but distant.
And just as many times as women talked to him, Jolee saw him looking in her direction, yearning in his pale eyes. Even now, as she moved around the room to wipe down the empty tables, the memory of that look sent shivers throughout her body.
She glanced over to where Christian washed up the glasses. He wasn’t looking at her now, and in fact he’d said very little since the bar closed, but she still sensed his hunger. Or maybe it was her own.
She picked up her tray, loaded with ashtrays, and headed behind the bar.
She set the tray down near him, grimacing at clear ashtrays now heaped with ash and cigarette butts. “These alone show what a busy night we had.”
Christian glanced at the tray, then at her. “You had a great night.”
She frowned slightly. She couldn’t be certain but she thought he’d emphasized you. But she decided she was probably being overly sensitive.
Christian finished rinsing the mug he’d just washed and set it upside down on a towel on the bar. He wiped his hands on his apron. “I’m going to go mop the bathrooms.”
Again she wondered at his dismissal, but again decided she must be reading more into his behavior than was really there.
“It was very nice of you to offer to do the mopping. Jed looked like his arthritis was bothering him tonight.”
Christian nodded without comment and left the bar.
Okay, maybe she wasn’t being overly sensitive. Maybe something was wrong. She turned to the register, hitting the cash-out key and the register drawer jangled as it popped open.
She started to take out the stacks of money when she paused. She set down the ones and fives on the counter next to her and slid a hand under the register. The scrap of paper was still there with Christian’s brother’s number on it. Had he seen it? Was he upset at her meddling?
She didn’t think they’d called. The bar had been too loud for her to hear the telephone from her vantage point near the stage, but she hadn’t seen Christian answer the phone. And she didn’t think he’d remain silent if he’d actually talked to his brothers. But that number, hidden under the register, that might cause him to act so distant.
She looked over at the bathrooms, debating whether to approach him, but she hesitated. Chicken.
Instead, she finished collecting the money and went to her office to do the accounting. Once she was nearly done, she heard Christian back at the bar, washing the ashtrays. Jolee decided she couldn’t put off talking to him any longer. And even if he hadn’t discovered the number, she had to tell him.
She wandered out to the bar, leaning against it, watching him wash. He glanced at her, but then returned his attention to his task.
She watched him a little longer before she worked up the nerve to ask, “Christian, what’s wrong?”
His hands hesitated in the sudsy water, then started scrubbing again with renewed vigor.
“Did I do something wrong?” Lord, she was such a chicken. She should just ask him outright about the number.
He stopped washing to look at her, his eyes unreadable. Damn, she hated that look.
“No,” he finally said. “You didn’t do a thing wrong.”
“Then why are you acting so aloof?”
She saw the indecision in his eyes. The discernable emotion was better than the blankness, although not much. Despite his hungry stares all night, she had the feeling his uncertainty was a bad sign.
“Did you not like me dedicating that song to you tonight?” She had wondered after she’d done it, if she had the right to place a public claim on him like she had. Maybe that was overstepping her bounds.
But he shook his head. “Your song was beautiful. It meant more to me than you can ever know.”
&n
bsp; Relief caused her to release a pent-up breath. “Good. I meant it. Every moment with you” — she grinned— “even the sort of strange moments, has made me feel more alive than I have in years. And I don’t know what I did to deserve you, but I’m so happy you are with me.”
Christian stared at her. How could she say this to him? He was the one who didn’t know what he’d done to deserve her. He hadn’t done anything. He’d done nothing but horrible deeds for the last two hundred years. How could he deserve this perfect woman?
He started to reach for her, but stopped. He was supposed to be telling her he had to go, not comforting her. He had to leave. All night he’d watched her, telling himself he would go, even as he wanted to do nothing more than to hold her.
“Jolee.” He took a deep breath, then began again. “Jolee, I have never been as happy as I’ve been with you.”
She smiled and reached out to touch his jawline. “I’m glad.”
“But—»
Her smile disappeared and her hand dropped from his face. She shook her head just slightly as if to say she refused to hear the rest of his words. Then she turned to the few still dirty ashtrays. She began emptying them into the trash can.
“It really was a good night,” she said, too cheerfully as she cleaned.
He moved closer, his intent to make her look at him. His hand caught hers to stop her almost frantic tidying. But she still didn’t look at him; she stared down at the tray.
His hand slid up her bare arm, memorizing the silky texture of her skin. Then he stepped closer behind her, his other hand going to her other arm, rubbing up and down its length.
“But Jolee,” he murmured, “you have it all wrong. I don’t deserve you. I don’t.”
She leaned back against his chest, her hands crisscrossing over her front to capture his hands as they stroked her skin.
He pulled her tighter to him, burying his nose in the disheveled knot at the back of her head, breathing in the floral scent of shampoo. The pink shampoo. It didn’t smell nearly as good as Jolee herself. He nuzzled her neck, breathing in her unique spiciness. The scent brought his simmering desire to an instant boil. He pressed his lips to her neck.