“Don't blame you a bit,” her grandmother said, frowning. “I love you baby.”
“I love you too,” Caroline said, pressing a kiss to her wrinkled cheek.
“You're making a scene,” her mother harshly whispered. “This is so embarrassing!”
“Oh? Is it? I don't care. By the way, thanks for lunch,” Caroline bit out as she walked away from the table. Yeah. It was funny how some things never changed.
“You're a real bitch, Joan,” her grandmother announced bluntly.
Caroline couldn't quite contain her smirk. It didn't last long, though. The drive back to Toronto put a lot of things in perspective.
She thought a lot about those end scenes in the movies, where the heroine walks away and suddenly the building explodes behind her. Still, she keeps on walking without looking back, a satisfied smile on her face. She knows that the bad guys have been thwarted and all is right in the world.
Caroline acknowledged that this was not one of those times. Instead, she was equal parts angry at her mother and feeling guilty about leaving the party early. It was incredibly embarrassing, the way she'd just up and walked out. Tomorrow she would call and apologize to her grandmother again. Her mother, on the other hand, would not be receiving a phone call.
***
Caroline was pulling the macaroni and cheese out of the oven when she heard the knock on her apartment door. That would be Magnus. She'd planned to go over to his place after the party, but by the time she'd gotten home she was exhausted.
Even though she'd done her best to beg off tonight, Magnus had instead talked her into inviting him over. She couldn't really protest without going into the whole mortifying story. And there was no chance of that happening. He'd offered to bring her dinner, but after the miserable day she had, she welcomed the distraction of cooking a meal.
She opened the door, pasting what she hoped was a smile on her face. “Magnus, come in.”
The ready grin slipped from his face as he studied her. “What's wrong?”
Clearly the smile hadn't been as effective as she'd hoped. She waved him off and said, “Nothing. Just a long day.”
“I've seen you after a long day,” he reminded her. “That's not what this is. You can tell me to mind my own bloody business if you want but at least be honest about it.”
His patient stare broke her down. “Fine. You're right. I had a shitty day. My mother manages to make me feel like an awkward teenager even after all this fucking time. I went to that stupid party I told you about. You remember, the one that she planned for my grandmother? The second I walked in the door she started in on me by informing me that my dress made me look fat.” When he opened his mouth, she held up a hand. “It gets better from there. Just wait. Then, in front of my grandmother, told me that I'd never keep a man if I didn't start wearing a girdle. The final straw was when I tried to take a finger sandwich from the tray on our table and she slapped my hand away because 'someone needed to'. I'm sure she would've kept it up but I walked out.”
He stared at her incredulously for a moment, taking in her words and then he finally asked, “Did you slash her tires on the way out?”
“No. The butler was watching me,” she admitted, giving the first traces of an actual smile since Magnus walked through the door.
“There it is,” Magnus murmured, cupping the side of her face. “An actual smile. I'll take it, even if it's a slightly vindictive one.”
She leaned into him and said, “Now I just feel like crap about the whole thing. I walked out of my grandmother's birthday party. It wasn't even the stuff my mother said, so much as the fact she's been saying it my whole life. My job isn't good enough, my friends aren't good enough. She loves to remind me that I'm an overweight spinster at least two or three times per visit in some way.”
“She's the reason behind your piss poor self-image then?”
She didn't even bother with prevarication. “Basically, yeah.”
“I wouldn't feel too bloody bad about leaving then. You had to stand up for yourself at some point.”
Caroline nodded. “I know. I just wish I had picked a different venue. It's not my grandmother's fault. She's probably one of my biggest fans.”
“When you explain what happened, she'll completely understand why,” he reasoned.
“Oh, she was there for most of it, actually. I'm pretty sure she called my mom a bitch as I was leaving.”
“She wasn't lying, either, love,” he noted. “Your grandmother sounds like a firecracker.”
“She definitely is. You'd like her,” she said. Pausing a moment, she added, “She invited us out for tacos, actually.”
At his vaguely confused look, she explained the entire back-story about the Mexican food. It was a little embarrassing to admit that her parents were so closed minded, but she had no reason to lie at this point.
“Don't worry about it,” he murmured, obviously picking up on her unease. “My parents didn't like the Transfigured much either, turns out. The last hug I ever got from my mother was on the day the testing came back when I was five.”
The closed off look in his eye told her it wasn't up for discussion but it still broke her heart. “We're a sorry bunch, aren't we?” she remarked, hugging him. “I've got macaroni and cheese. Let's go drown our sorrows.”
She jumped when his mood shifted dramatically. He clutched at her arms, a desperate look on his face, and begged, “Please tell me that you didn't microwave any part of this meal, Caroline!”
“I made a cream sauce, then added cheese. Thank you very much,” she grumbled, narrowing her eyes.
He raised an eyebrow. “Impressive. What kind?”
“Velveeta,” she answered, biting the inside of her cheek. When he turned a slight shade of green, she caved. “Gruyere and cheddar. The look on your face was priceless though.”
“You're an evil woman,” he accused, leaning down to press a soft kiss to her mouth. “It's a good thing I'm into that.”
“It really is,” she agreed, her smile no longer forced. “Thank you for coming over. I probably would have eaten half the mac and cheese in one sitting and then fallen into a shame spiral.”
“No need for that. You've got a great job. Good friends. At least one decent relative to speak of. A nice place to live. An excellent boyfriend and a pan of homemade macaroni and cheese. What more could you possibly need?”
Her heart gave a quick thud in her chest at his words. Boyfriend? Had things really progressed to the point a label was necessary? It had only been two weeks since their first night together.
“Too soon,” he asked, his voice lacking its normal confidence. His expression was almost hopeful.
“No,” she said, her heart racing. “I think that sounds about right.”
“I thought maybe, considering you told your grandmother about me,” he teased, the tension leaving his frame.
“It followed the natural flow of conversation. I promise. We weren't picking out wedding venues. We were planning our escape and she claimed the butler. I couldn't be outdone.”
“Didn't you say you were middle class? How do your parents have a butler?”
Caroline laughed, the remainder of the sadness falling away. “Oh Jesus,” she said, pulling him toward the kitchen. “This party was so over the top.”
Chapter Nine
Magnus let out a groan of displeasure and rolled toward the center of the bed searching for Caroline. When he found her missing, he sat up. “Where you going, love?” he mumbled, willing his eyes to focus.
Caroline stood fully dressed, framed by the bathroom door. Her hair was already pulled back, and her makeup was on. “We talked about this. Remember? I have my follow up at the doctor, then I have inventory.”
“Let me know how it goes at the doctor?” he asked. After her post coital fainting episode, her doctor did some testing and concluded that she was low on iron. Which, ironically, was something he could relate to. She'd been taking supplements and had a follow up today to go ov
er her progress.
“I'll text. I'm sure it's fine. I'm feeling a ton less run down than I was before,” she said, digging through her overnight bag.
He watched as she propped her leg up on the end of the bed and began to roll one stocking slowly up her leg, smoothing as she went. She was watching him, he realized. And she was taking her dear, sweet time in order to give him a show.
Slowly, her eyes never leaving his, she adjusted slightly, sliding her skirt up her thighs. Then she rolled the other stocking up with equal care, but he didn't give a damn about that. With her skirt hiked up, he caught several enticing glimpses of pink lace that he was definitely looking forward to examining more closely. “When do you need to leave?” he asked, scooting toward the edge of the bed to get up.
Her eyes moved to the bedside table and widened. “Oh shit! Now. I didn't realize how late it was!”
Magnus looked down at his lap, and then sighed. “A bit naughty of you to give me that little show knowing you had to leave, wasn't it?”
She held up her hands. “I swear I thought I had more time. You know I don't like to start anything I can't finish. I'm so sorry!”
“Mm,” he said, eyeing her. “I had plans that involved both of us finishing. Multiple times. Instead you're leaving me in a bad way, love.”
A slow smile moved across her face and she murmured. “You're right. It was very naughty of me. Maybe I'll let you punish me later.”
“It's official,” he groaned. “All the blood is gone from my brain. I've got all these visions of you turned over my knee, now.”
As she slid on her shoes and picked up her purse, she said, “I think I'd be interested in exploring that.”
Magnus looked down at the erection tenting the sheets and said, “You're killing me here, Caroline.”
Her expression pained, she kissed him goodbye. With a quick wave, she hurried toward the door. “I'm sorry! I have to go. I'll text you later!”
He slumped back against his pillow, wide awake and so erect he was throbbing. Throwing the covers back, he moved toward the bathroom. The thought of taking matters into his own hands was less than appealing. He sighed. Nothing like a cold shower to start the day.
****
His eyes roamed the kitchen. He was looking especially forward to cleanup being over tonight. Caroline had gotten the 'all clear' from her physician with regards to her iron levels. While Magnus didn't look at Caroline as a food source, per se, there had been something incredibly intimate about drinking from her. It moved something inside him. Or it had until she'd passed out and scared the shit out of him. But, that would no longer be an issue, thankfully.
He was just glad that she enjoyed it too. It made him feel less strange about the whole process. The truth was, he had no idea what he was doing. Or if this was even normal. He hadn't dated a human since he'd transitioned. She'd never dated anyone who was Transfigured. This was a learning experience for them both.
“Magnus,” a tentative voice broke into his thoughts.
He looked up from the pot of stock he'd been pouring into a storage container to see his sous chef hovering close by, the tiniest of smirks on her face. “Yes, Veronica?”
“The stock is all out of the pan. You seem... a little distracted. Would you like me to finish supervising the clean up?”
Fuck. How long had he been holding the empty pan? Frowning, he set the pot down and said, “I've got a lot on my mind with the party and all. You know how I hate these bloody things.”
“I'm going to take a wild guess and say that your mind was nowhere near the party. You kind of had a dopey grin,” she teased, taking the tub of stock and putting a lid on it. “The same dopey grin you've had for the last few weeks, actually. I'd say you have a lady friend but I don't know when you'd have the time.”
He did his level best not to acknowledge her, but failed miserably because she gasped.
“Ooh! I was right! How do you find the time? You're here like, fourteen hours a day.”
“Remember the discussion that we had about boundaries?”
“Vaguely. So is it someone from work? I'm the only woman in the kitchen besides Gretchen and Courtney. They're both married.”
“Leave off it,” he groused.
“Ooh. I bet it's that curvy blond from the bar. Am I right? I saw her sneaking out of the walk-in the other afternoon,” Veronica guessed, watching him carefully.
“I said, leave off it!”
“She's cute,” Veronica said, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively.
Magnus rolled his eyes at her and asked, “Want me to pass her your number? I don't know if she plays for both teams but I could find out if you like?”
“Oh. Would you?” she answered with mock excitement. Immediately the overly excited smile dropped from her face. Her tone more serious, she said, “You're happier lately. I like it. But you're starting to scare the crew. They don't know how to handle you when you're fallible.”
“Is the food suffering?” he asked, alarmed.
“Nothing is suffering. I'm kind of enjoying it to be honest. I get to take a little more of a leadership role when you disappear into the walk-in,” she teased.
Magnus opened his mouth to speak and then closed it. Clearing his throat, he asked, “I hadn't realized. Are you unhappy here?”
“Not unhappy. I'm just enjoying the additional responsibility. I don't think you've dated anyone in the entire time I've known you, Magnus. It's about time.”
He looked around and realized that the kitchen had all but cleared out. “Tried to date you,” he reminded her, smirking.
“Twenty minutes eight years ago doesn't constitute a date. I'm talking about really dating someone. It's been the better part of a decade at least.”
“You're a bloody nag. Have I mentioned that lately?” he asked, sliding the veal stock into the refrigerator.
“I know. I am. But I'll finish up in here tonight. Go find your girl, before I change my mind.”
He hesitated for only another moment before he grinned. “Thank you.”
Tossing the apron in the wash bin on the way out of the kitchen, Magnus checked in the bar first and found everything had been wiped down and tidied. No Caroline, though. He checked the small storeroom off the bar but finally found her frowning at the computer screen in her office. “Caroline,” he called out cautiously.
Her head snapped up. She gave him a half smile that didn't reach her eyes and said, “Hey you. How was dinner service?”
“Apparently not as good as your night,” he commented, frowning. “What's the matter?”
“A bottle of Balvenie Fifty Year is missing. It was here last Tuesday when I took inventory. Now it's gone.”
Magnus held up his hands and said, “I don't know anything about Scotch, but I'm assuming fifty year means it's really expensive?”
“$34,000 a bottle. Lilly is going to flip the fuck out when I tell her,” she groaned.
His eyebrows raised incredulously. That was some serious cash for liquor. “Do you leave it out at the bar or does that stay under lock and key?”
“Under lock and key for sure. I'm going to go check one more time before I tell her. Wanna see the secret booze closet?” she asked, sliding out from behind her desk and giving him a hopeful smile.
“Have I just been officially drafted into helping you look for a bottle of Scotch? Is that what just happened here?” he asked, grinning.
She traced a finger slowly around the neckline of her blouse and carefully said, “I'd be extremely appreciative if you'd help me but I'm not going to beg.”
An offer he couldn't refuse. “Lead the way,” he invited, stepping back to let her slide past him.
Rather than scooting past him, she let her body graze across his very slowly as she edged past him. The feel of her body pressed up however incidentally against his had him going hard as a rock. When she reached the door and he hadn't moved, she asked, “Coming?”
“Just about,” he murmured, shooting for honesty.
“It's been nearly twenty four hours since I've been inside you. You do realize that I'm going to try my hardest to rectify that situation immediately, right?”
She flushed and said, “I really do have to look for this bottle of Scotch, Magnus, but we can absolutely work on that.”
He trailed down the hallway to a door with an access card reader. He watched as she pulled it from her pocket and swiped it. After the door beeped, he followed her in and looked around. There were boxes and bottles neatly organized on the shelves.
“I know it looks unimpressive, but you're currently standing next to about three quarters of a million dollars’ worth of Scotch right now. That's a conservative estimate, too.”
“Christ. Now I see why they have the access card. So what is this box or bottle we're looking for?”
“It should be in a wooden cylinder, different colors of grain wrapped around the outside with a small gold band toward the bottom of it. I should've shown you a picture. Sorry.”
He eyed the top shelf and said, “Do you have a step stool in here? I'll start up top.”
“Thank you,” she said, pointing toward the waist high crate next to the door. “There should be a small ladder tucked behind that.”
A few minutes later, he said, “I think I found it back here, love.”
“Oh good! I wonder why it's up there.”
Magnus picked up the fallen tube and corrected, “I found the container. No bottle.”
“Crap. Let me see the container,” she asked.
He held up the tube and climbed down from the step stool.
“Shit, that's the one. No bottle back there, though?”
He shook his head and asked, “Are you going to be in trouble?”
“God, no. I didn't take it. I bet know who did though. There are only three of us who have keys to this room. Lilly, myself, and Joey, the lead bartender.”
“My money's on Joey then. Can you prove it though?”
“Maybe. There aren't any cameras in here, but they're pointed at the door on the outside. I'll talk to Lilly and see if she can pull the feeds that correspond with his key swipes last week. I hate to think he stole it but the facts kind of point to it.”
Bite Me (The Transfigured Ones Book 2) Page 7