by Larissa Ione
“No big deal?” He made an angry, sweeping gesture with his arm. “You’ve got thirty years of history here. You don’t just throw that away.”
“I’m not throwing anything away.” She moved toward him, but he scooted past her to grab another beer from the fridge. “Everything that’s important will move with us.”
“What about the animals? What about Sammy? Conquest loves him.”
“I’ve already made arrangements with Stacey. We’ll take Doodle, and she’ll take the rest of the animals. We can visit anytime we want.”
He shook his head. “No.”
“Reseph—”
“No!” He slammed his beer down on the counter without opening it. “We’re not moving, and that’s final.”
“Nothing is final,” she snapped. “And I don’t appreciate your attitude.”
“Selling things is final,” he shot back. “And you don’t just throw away things because they’re no longer convenient.”
“No longer convenient? What are you talking about? This is about making a positive change. I’m immortal now. I can take some risks. Do things I might have been afraid to do before.” She made a pleading gesture with her hands. “Let’s do this, Reseph. Let’s take a new adventure together.”
“Or you’ll take one by yourself?”
Taken aback, she stared, unable to fathom his words. “By myself? No, of course not. Where is this coming from?”
Cursing, Reseph shook his head. “I need a minute. Just...give me a minute.”
With that, he stormed out of the kitchen and then out of the house.
* * * *
Reseph couldn’t believe how rattled he was by Jillian’s bombshell announcement. How could she want to move? How could she want to abandon her old life?
And making it worse, Limos was siding with Jillian.
“Reseph, I know you’re upset, but is it really that big of a deal?” From the deck of her Hawaiian beach house, Limos kept a watchful eye on her mate, Arik, as he strolled along the sand with their daughter. Keilani, her mother’s daughter in every way, was keeping Arik busy as she ran from place to place gathering seashells.
“Jillian grew up there,” he said. “It was her parents’ place. It was where she went to stay safe after...” After Pestilence and his minions attacked her. “How can she just give it up like it was nothing?”
Limos turned to him, the salty ocean breeze whipping her black hair around her face. “I don’t think this is about Jillian at all,” she said as she tied her hair back with the lime and yellow scrunchie thing she’d worn around her wrist.
“Then what the hell would it be about?”
“Duh,” Limos huffed. “It’s about you and your past.”
“You think I’m still hung up on my childhood?”
“Reseph, you’ve always had abandonment issues—”
Oh, criminy, not that shit again. If he so much as mentioned that he hated milk, Limos would claim it was related to his birth mother leaving him before he’d been able to breastfeed or his adoptive mother leaving him before he was done breastfeeding.
He really did hate milk and both his mothers, though. Still didn’t prove anything.
“You know what was great about the past?” He watched Keilani do a face plant in the sand and then bound back to her feet with a delighted squeal. His niece had a great sense of humor already. “No one used terms like ‘abandonment issues’ or ‘narcissist.’ Or ‘psychopath.’” He shrugged. “Just saying.”
“I’m serious.” Limos pointed an accusatory finger at him. “Almost everything is disposable to you. But you glom hard onto things that represent stability. Don’t look at me like that. You know I’m right.” She waved at Keilani and then turned back to Reseph. “You found a home at Jillian’s mountain retreat, so you’re glomming. You’re just glomming the wrong thing.”
“Huh?”
“Argh.” Limos cuffed him on the shoulder. “Home isn’t a cabin or wooded property, dumbass. Home is wherever Jillian goes. Glom her.”
As much as he hated to admit it, his sister was right. But still, the thought of leaving the place where he’d lived his happiest years gave him heartburn.
Maybe they could compromise. He’d flipped out before they could even talk about it. Because he was a dumbass, like Limos said. They could still move to whatever city Jillian wanted to move to but keep the Colorado property for vacations. Or if he needed to escape people.
That might work. The very idea certainly helped ease the burn in his chest. “Thanks for talking me down, sis. You’re like a living, breathing Alka-Seltzer.”
“Aw, aren’t you sweet in your own weird way.”
“Yeah, well, now I have to show Jillian how sweet I am. I totally freaked out. I was such a jerk.”
Limos cocked a black eyebrow. “Don’t tell me it was your first fight?”
“Nah,” he said. “I’m always doing stupid shit. But this was our worst fight. And it was all my fault.” He glanced down the beach at Arik. “When he floofs up, what does he do to get off the couch?”
She grinned, and something told him she liked it when Arik had to make it up to her for something. No doubt she enjoyed making his life hell.
“He changes diapers and gets up with Keilani at night, but I guess since you don’t have a kid, that won’t work.” She tapped her chin thoughtfully. “What’s something she always does for you?” She held up her hand as Reseph opened his mouth. “And I’m not talking about anything sexual.’
He snapped his mouth closed and thought about it. “She does everything inside the house, and I do all the outside stuff.”
“Then you need to do some inside stuff. Do the laundry for her. Clean the house. Cook dinner. And tell her you’re sorry.” Li wiggled her fingers, making her flashy rings sparkle in the sunlight. “And expensive jewelry never hurts.”
Okay, he could do all of that. Easy. He knew where the vacuum cleaner was, and he was pretty sure he could find the laundry soap. Dinner...that might be a little challenging.
“Do you have any good recipes? Easy recipes?”
“I have people who cook for me,” Limos said. “But you should check out a show called Angel in the Kitchen. Harvester said you can look up recipes that will work for whatever purpose you want. Supposedly, they’re infused with angel magic or some crap.”
Reseph was willing to try anything at this point. And if he had to enlist the help of an angel to win over his own angel, he was all for it.
He eyed Limos. “Do you think you can help me out with something? I’m going to need to get Jillian out of the house for a few hours.”
As expected, she was game.
Operation Apology was underway.
* * * *
Reseph decided he wasn’t cut out for domestic chores. He was much better at wielding a sword than a vacuum cleaner. And no matter how many times he mopped, the hardwood floors remained streaky. Worse, Doodle watched him like he was an idiot, all judgey and shit from his perch on the window sill.
Reseph couldn’t even manage to do laundry right. He’d had to rinse a load twice to get rid of excess soap, and another load was completely ruined thanks to a little too much bleach.
He’d basically created more work with his dumbassery.
Surprisingly, cooking turned out to be his most successful attempt at showing Jillian how much she meant to him. In fact, the kitchen smelled heavenly and not like anything was burning or poisonous.
Cool.
He popped dessert into the oven and checked his watch. Jillian should be home any second. Limos had promised to gate her to the cabin as soon as they were done buying the Thanksgiving decorations Limos had insisted she’d needed Jillian’s help with to pick out,, and she’d texted moments ago to say they were getting ready to head back.
Any second now...
The front door creaked open and slammed closed. Jillian was still pissed.
His pulse picked up, slinging adrenaline through his veins as if he were
entering battle instead of preparing to negotiate an end to it.
Jillian appeared in the doorway to the kitchen. She was wearing one of his favorite outfits: worn jeans and a gauzy black blouse that emphasized her perfect breasts and long, slender neck, both of which he’d lavished with kisses hundreds of times. She’d taken off her shoes, her feet now encased in fluffy black slippers with skull and crossbones beads he’d given her for her birthday.
“Are you...are you actually cooking?”
“I’m attempting it, anyway.”
“Why?”
Reseph had spent his entire life being a charming playboy, a lovable scamp that females loved. If there was ever a time to turn on his charm, it was now.
He grinned and shot her a wink as he checked on the Chicken Biscuit Pot Pie. “Because you deserve it.” At her smile, he claimed victory. “Besides, I figured that if you could do it, I could too.”
The smile fell off her face. “You what? You mean, if it’s so easy that I can do it, surely you must be able to?”
“No! Of course not.” Oh, shit, he’d taken his victory lap too soon. “That came out wrong. I meant that because you do it, I should too. I want to do my part. I want to do more.”
“Is that why you think I want to move?” She drifted toward him, smelling of cinnamon and coffee. Limos must have stalled her at a coffee shop, knowing they were Jillian’s weakness. “Because you don’t do enough around here?”
He’d never really thought about that. “Well...now I’m wondering...”
She laughed, but it sounded a little bitter. “You do plenty around here, Reseph. You’re always outside making improvements on the barn or the house. You do more with the animals than I do, and you look for any reason to go grocery shopping.”
It was true. He loved grocery shopping. For most of his life, grocery stores hadn’t existed. Now he found them to be wondrous places filled with a zillion kinds of ice cream and every spice imaginable. Sometimes when he got the urge to wander, he’d visit grocery stores in other countries just to see what kind of neat stuff they sold.
You could tell a lot about a country’s people by what they bought in grocery stores.
The kitchen timer went off. Jillian’s slippered feet whispered on the floor as she followed him to the oven.
“What are you making?”
“What am I attempting to make?” He mentally crossed his fingers in hopes that everything turned out. “I’m doing a pie themed dinner I found on the Angel in the Kitchen website. Chicken Biscuit Pot Pie and Cherry Hand Pies.”
“Smells amazing.”
He pulled the pot pie out of the oven and left the cherry pies to continue baking. “I hope it tastes like it smells. And like it looks.”
Jillian came up behind him and peered at the bubbling dish. “I’m so hungry. I tried to get Limos to go to dinner, but she said she was busy.”
“She had orders to bring you here,” he said, a little sheepishly... exaggerated a bit to keep up the charm offensive. Ares had always said it was his best battle tactic, and he needed to use every weapon in his arsenal to make it up to Jillian.
Jillian’s eyes shot wide as it dawned on her that she had been tricked. “She knew you were cooking?”
“I went to see her earlier,” he admitted. “I needed to talk to her about our fight.”
“That’s funny,” she murmured. “Because I talked to her about it too.”
Well, that couldn’t be good. “What did she say?”
“That you’re a jackass.” She gave him a pointed look, but her mouth was quirked in a small smile. “On that, we agree.”
There was widespread agreement for that opinion. “I’m sorry, Jilly.” He reset the timer for the cherry pies. “I overreacted. I was caught off guard and I panicked. But that was no excuse for treating you the way I did.”
“It was my fault too.” She sank down in a chair at the table. “I shouldn’t have dumped it on you like that. I made a decision and didn’t consult you about it first.” Looking down at her freshly painted blue nails—Limos must have taken her for a manicure as well—she shook her head. “I think maybe I resent how much you’re gone, and how much responsibility it leaves me with. I know it’s not fair. You can’t help it when you have to go. But I always feel like I’ve kind of been stranded.”
He’d never really thought about what it was like for her when he was gone. He’d always been concerned about her safety, but her state of mind? Hadn’t even occurred to him.
He was a selfish jerk sometimes, wasn’t he?
Determined to make it up to her, he poured her a glass of wine and sat down across from her. “So what do we do now?”
“I think I might have a compromise.”
They often operated on the same wavelength, probably because their minds had been linked together in order to preserve his sanity and keep Pestilence at bay. The wavelength had its drawbacks, but really, it kept them in sync a lot, and he suspected that now was one of those times.
“Let me guess,” he said. “We move but keep this property for vacations and getaways?”
She nodded. “I can’t believe I didn’t think of it sooner.”
It was definitely better than selling the place, but he also had another idea. “What about the other way around? We’ll buy a place in any city in the world. You name it. It’ll be our vacation spot.”
Reaching for his hand, she gave a tiny shake of the head. “I’m ready for a change, Reseph. A big one. Buying a vacation home isn’t a change.”
Change was bad. The very idea, even with a compromise, made his gut churn. There was a reason he’d lived in a cave for centuries. He hung on to what he knew.
“Why do you want a change? Are you bored?”
“Trust me,” she said wryly, “no one can be bored around you.” Her fingernails clicked on her wine glass as she idly tapped the stem. “It’s not that. It’s just...I spread my wings a long time ago when I moved away. Being back here makes me feel like a teenager, like I’m trapped. I know we can go anywhere we want in a matter of seconds, but when you’re gone for weeks at a time, I’m stuck here.”
“You can call my sister or brothers. They’ll take you anywhere you want.” Even as his words faded, he knew the argument was old and lame and clearly, if it was what Jillian wanted, she’d have been calling his siblings all the time.
“I hate that, Reseph. I have to rely on them to get me home when I’m done with whatever I’m doing. It inconveniences them, and it makes me feel like I’m on a leash. But if we’re living in a city I can walk to the closest café for a pastry. Or I can take a jog in a park. Or I can drive or take public transportation to any number of places. It’s lonely here. And now that I’m taking flying lessons, I’d like to live near an airport. I want to fly charter flights for DART. I want to do something to contribute to the fight for our planet, you know?”
He couldn’t manufacture a single argument for any of that, so he conceded defeat. After all, Jillian had sacrificed a lot for him, and maybe it was time for him to do the same. He loved this cabin, but he loved her more.
So instead of throwing a Keilani-sized tantrum, he pulled up his big boy pants—pants he was wearing in the kitchen for Jillian’s sake—and announced that dinner was ready.
* * * *
Jillian was starving, but as Reseph dished up the pot pie, her stomach rebelled. She hated fighting with him, and although he’d apologized and they were in the midst of talking things out, there was still a lot of tension in the air, wafting around the kitchen along with the mouthwatering aromas of savory chicken and sweet cherries.
She dragged her fork through the veggie-laden pie. “Reseph, why did you get so upset when I said I wanted to move?”
Silence stretched as he considered his answer. “Limos thinks it’s because I have abandonment issues. She’s probably right. But I think it’s more than that.” He glanced down at his bowl, a soft pink blush rising up in his cheeks. He wasn’t one to talk about his feelings—
at least not openly. He joked a lot, but he didn’t ever lay his emotions completely bare. “I think I was afraid that you wanting something new meant you wanted everything new.”
“What, like a new husband?” At his barely discernible nod, her heart broke. He was so new to unconditional love that even after their years together he still expected to lose everything. “Listen to me, Reseph. Do you trust me?”
He looked up in surprise. “More than anyone in my life.”
“Then trust me when I say that the only way you’ll lose me is if you turn into Pestilence again.” She paused and narrowed her eyes at him. “Or if you cheat on me.”
She wasn’t sure which would be worse. Pestilence was terrifying, his bloodlust and penchant for cruelty beyond comprehension. But the thought of Reseph with another female—human or otherwise—hurt her in places Pestilence could never reach.
“That will never happen,” he growled, and the sudden, possessive intensity in his expression was as much a promise as his words. She recognized the smoky, predatory gleam in his eyes and knew he was no longer interested in food. He wanted to take his promises to the bedroom and claim her in the most primitive way he knew how.
Her skin heated at the thought, and she was tempted to take his hand and drag him there right now.
But they had to clear the air first.
She loaded her fork with pot pie. This conversation was going to end in the bedroom no matter what, so she’d better eat now or it could be hours before she managed to get back into the kitchen. “Do you want me to trust you when you say that?”
His voice still rumbled with erotic intent. “Of course.”
“Then return the favor and never doubt my love for you. Also, thank you for wearing clothes while you were cooking. “She paused with the fork at her lips. “You did wear clothes, right?”
“I might be immortal,” he said with an amused snort, “but there are parts of my body that don’t respond well to heat.”
Smiling, she took a bite and moaned in food bliss. “This is so good.”
“Guaranteed by the Angel in the Kitchen chick to wrap you in comfort like a blanket made from the hide of a bone devil.”