“Shampoo a cat, eh?” Nia questioned.
Raiden laughed. “I didn’t know what else to say.”
“And the first thing that came to your mind is to shampoo a cat?”
“Cut me some slack, will you? I’m under some pressure here. Could you get my brother on the line for me?”
“Hai Rei-San!” she joked. “Right away, Rei-San.”
Chuckling, Raiden hung up the phone. She knew he hated when she called him that but he knew it was her way of retaliating for the cat thing. Shaking his head he turned to his computer and began working away. He sent an email to the person in his firm in charge of the exchange telling her he would be going. He reached for a bottle of water just as his phone rang.
“Oha!” he greeted.
“Hey, Rei-Chan.” His brother always seemed too happy early in the morning. But that was Diataro for you. “You rang?”
“Can you come over tonight? I’m going to need some help.”
“You all right?”
“Oh yeah, I’m fine.”
“Okay,” Daitaro replied. “I have some inking I need to finish but that should be done soon anyway. I’ll be over tonight.”
With their plans set, Raiden went back to work, dreading a seventeen hour plane ride into the cold, white north. He spent the day finalizing some work and sending off for printing approved work. He didn’t want Daitaro to have to do most of it when he came to the house. True Daitaro did his own private thing which is quite popular around the world but when Raiden needed someone to watch over things, his big brother always offered to lend a hand. Grinning, he glanced at the clock, grabbed his things, and rushed out to see Nia packing up for the day. He gave her a quick kiss on the cheek.
“Have a lovely weekend,” he told her with a smirk. “And I will see you when I get back.”
“Did you buy a winter jacket?” Nia fussed. “I hear it gets really cold in Canada, with the snow and all that.”
“I haven’t bought one yet but I will first thing when I get there,” he promised. “And don’t worry. I will be fine.”
“Call when you land?”
Raiden promised her he would.
“And don’t talk to strangers unless they have candy.”
He laughed and with a quick hug he rushed out the door for the parking lot.
* * * *
Raiden parked beside his brother’s car in the driveway and hurried into the house. He called out but Daitaro didn’t answer. Frowning, he wondered what in the world his brother could be doing that he didn’t hear him call. Raiden stuck his head into the living room to see his brother hunched over a newspaper. He shook his head knowing what captivated his brother’s attention. “How many times have I told you not to read those?” Raiden chucked his keys into the bowl on the coffee table.
“But this one is good,” Daitaro grinned. “They loved your new serial. I thought for sure they would have said it is too dark. I mean how often does a Manga get released in mostly darks and reds? It has more of a graphic novel feel to it than Manga.”
“Shows you how much you know.” Raiden grinned and leaned over to hug his brother. “Did you eat?” Raiden left the living room and made his way into the kitchen. He opened the fridge and peered in. There wasn’t much of anything; he hadn’t expected company. He hadn’t bothered grocery shopping because with his upcoming trip, it would just be a waste.
“Nah, was hoping you’d feed me.”
“I should have stopped for take-out. Here’s the deal—” he closed the fridge and turned to see his brother leaning against the door frame. “You order, I pay?”
“I like that deal.” Daitaro dug into his pocket for his cell phone while Raiden walked by him and down the hall. In his bedroom, Raiden changed into a pair of Hakama pants and remained shirtless. By the time he returned his brother had one of Raiden’s old serials open before him.
“You know, I never understood why you discontinued this.” Daitaro pushed into a sitting position. “It’s really good.”
Raiden rolled his eyes and flopped down beside his brother. He took the copy of Dragon Virtues from his brother’s hand and stared at it. It was the first Manga he released from Emiko. The first full serial he had written ever. But after a while it got too commercialised. Everywhere he went he saw Taru, the main character’s face. He didn’t like it. He didn’t want Taru to be selling foreign cars to Japan or sports drink to young kids. That wasn’t the reason why he created the serial.
“Yeah. But Taru was everywhere, man. It was getting out of hand, and I got bored producing it; that is never a good sign. I figured—get out while the going was good, right? But the best part is, I didn’t kill Taru to bring him back down the road. But I could if I wanted to. It’s the miracle of writing “Clever.”
“Clever has nothing to do with it, at this point. I wanted the steam to blow over. I have been thinking of doing a return of Taru but I won’t allow it to get to the level it had before. Taru is my first and I aim to keep it that way.”
“I remember my first.”
“Skulls.”
“Yeah,” Daitaro nodded. “I have no idea where that came from—didn’t even know I had it in me. I just started creating and that’s what came out.”
“Aren’t those the best kind of art though? You let the pencil take you where it wants and there you have a piece of history.”
“Zero, you are sappy, you know that? But it is true.”
Raiden grinned and shook his head. “Anyway, about what I wanted—I’ll be heading to Canada for a bit to do this exchange program with Hayes Graphics and Animations and I need you to watch Emiko for me.”
“You know I would,” Daitaro turned to look pensively at Raiden. “You all right? You seem a bit more thoughtful than usual.”
“It’s Canada, Dai. What in the world am I going to do there? I’m pretty sure it will be snowing half the time I’m there—how much fun could that be?”
“You’d be surprise. The people are nice there. Just make sure you buy a winter jacket. Winters there are nothing to laugh at and frost bite is not a pleasant thing. It may sound simple but can lead to amputation.”
Raiden arched a brow. “Amputation of what?”
“Fingers, toes, legs, arms—man bits.” Daitaro chuckled. “It could happen if you are outside too long without proper gear.”
“I don’t know if I like where this conversation is going.” Raiden arched a brow.
Daitaro burst out laughing. That earned him a cushion to the face but he simply continued laughing.
“Ass,” Raiden muttered. Standing up, he turned for his bedroom when a knock sounded at the door. He gave his brother one last look before grabbing some money from a bowl in the hallway and opening the door.
“Delivery.” The man bowed. Raiden returned his greeting, paid and tipped before closing the door with his foot. It seemed his brother bought enough food to feed an army. With a frown he walked into the dining room and placed the contents of his arms on the Maru dining table before sticking his head into the living room.
“You know, I said I’d pay but not for enough food to feed Osaka.” Raiden called. “What are we going to do with all this food?”
“Hey, I’m starving.” Daitaro breezed by him. “That Miso smells so good.”
Shaking his head, Raiden walked back, sat across from his brother and watched Daitaro dig into his meal. He wondered about his brother sometime. Perhaps Daitaro had a tape worm or something. He could eat enough food for four people in one sitting and still looked like a model from a magazine. Raiden on the other hand had to work out daily to keep in shape. Shaking his head he figured one of them got the good genes and lifted a piece of Chicken Tatsuta to his lips. His mind returned to his upcoming trip and what he would need. He definitely would need a jacket. He should also stop and pick up a gift for his host.
By the time his brother left, Raiden was too full to do much of anything. He fought to stay awake and packed a suitcase. That took him nearly an hour an
d by then he felt well enough to do a workout in his home-made gym. When he finally finished, took a shower and crawled into bed, exhaustion pulsated through his body. He didn’t remember his head touching the pillow.
* * * *
Opening his eyes, Raiden knew instantly something changed. Lifting his head, he realised he slept in an unfamiliar, but lovely room. Light blue walls, a four poster bed and a love seat by the window decorated the room. Abstract paintings adorned the walls. Across the room fresh sunflowers sat in a vase filled with water. He didn’t remember seeing any of this the night before. The bedside clock flashed eight thirty at him. He sat up and listened. The sound of vehicles could be heard faintly through the closed window and the sun poured its rays into the room. Still, he sat there in this blissful moment of grogginess, waiting for his restful sleep to wear off and reality to kick in. It didn’t hit him as hard as he thought it would because the smell of something delicious seeped beneath the door. He sniffed and his stomach growled in appreciation.
Is that Miso?
His mind reminded him where he was and that shocked him even more. Miso was not something many Americans or Canadians would know how to make properly but from the smell, making his mouth water, Rochelle knew exactly what she was doing.
How did she know?
Perhaps she ordered in. That had to be the explanation. Miso wasn’t something you just read out of a recipe book and make it smell so good so quickly. Had she practised in anticipation of his visit? He smirked at the thought, but quickly shrugged it off as being presumptuous.
Dinner the night before had been delicious. He never tasted Jamaican food before and to her promise she came through in spades. He wondered if everything Jamaican tasted as good.
He pushed from the bed and hurried into the bathroom. Taking a shower and brushing his teeth, he dressed in a pair of blue jeans and a t-shirt with the writing warau on the front. He dumped aftershave in one hand, rubbed his hands together and then wiped his palms against his cheeks and under his neck. He never did that just for breakfast—but something inside of him wanted to look and smell extra special. He smiled at himself in the mirror before giving his reflection a corny gun salute. Finger raking his wet hair back out of his face, he descended the stairs and leaned against the door frame. He watched her work around the kitchen and couldn’t help the smile that teased his lips. She moved with a familiarity that oozed elegance. Every move she made seemed like a practiced dance that she did so many times before and had learned the intricacy of the routine. She located everything with ease and sometimes reached into a drawer for what she wanted without even looking up.
This is the way a real woman should look in the kitchen.
She hummed softly while steam billowed from the pots and bowls around her. The scene reminded him of a scientist at work.
A recipe book lay open on the counter and he arched a brow. What an intriguing woman; to make Miso just by reading a recipe book. His heart did a dance and he shook his head.
When she stepped away from the stove, he spoke.
“Morning.”
True to form, she jumped a foot into the air and swung around with a gasp.
“I didn’t mean to startle you,” he explained. “That is why I waited until you were away from anything dangerous.”
“Well, you did a great job anyway. How long have you been standing there?”
“A while. Like I said before, I wanted to make sure you weren’t around any pots with anything hot in them when I said something.”
“Well you didn’t have to do that.” She flushed.
“Remember what happened in the supermarket yesterday? I was not about to take any chances.” Just the thought of anything marring her beautiful skin made him want to scream in pain but he simply tilted his head and walked into the kitchen to peer into a bowl. Steaming hot Miso soup filled the bowl. “May I?” he pointed.
“Yeah, sure. I made it for you. I don’t even know if I got it right but I’m sure you will tell me.” She picked it up and handed him the bowl.
“I’m sure you did fine.” He smiled at her while accepting the bowl she offered. He noticed she offered it with two hands rather than just one and wondered if she did know a thing or two about Japanese or Chinese customs. The chopsticks he used the night before were washed and placed neatly across the top of a bowl—the precise way they were supposed to be. He smiled and turned his attention back to the steaming bowl of his favourite soup. He served himself some soup and holding it up as in a toast to her, he bowed his head, “itadakimasu,” he said. He placed the bowl back on the surface, picked up a spoon and shoveled some into his mouth. The flavor exploded against his tongue and all he could do was close his eyes and moan.
“You did that last night too.”
“Did what?”
“The holding up the bowl thing. What does Itada-whatever you said mean?”
He smiled at her. “Gomen-sorry,” he translated quickly. “It’s similar to bon appétit. It is also a way of giving grace, or thanks to all who had a part in preparing this meal.”
She arched a brow at him. “I didn’t know you are a praying man, Raiden.”
He chuckled and climbed onto a stool to watch her intently. “You’d be surprised the things you would find out if you get to know me better.”
She grinned and turned away from him to continue what she was doing. Raiden knew she was blushed; but why? He took that moment to look at her body. Her smooth chocolate skin peeked out of a beautiful, light pink top. Her body curved sensually in all the right places. She wasn’t as skinny or petite—in fact, she had to be what they would call a plus size woman—but Raiden’s mouth watered for her. She had a body that he would do anything to get next to his. Lowering his head he tried to get his mind out of dangerous territory. Remembering the way her brown eyes shined at him when he turned around at the airport and she stood there. They were so big and lovely; it took everything in him not to stare. While she sat across from him at dinner the night before, laughing, and asking him questions about his country and company he couldn’t imagine anything more peaceful. The sound of her laughter drifted through his mind.
She nudged him with her shoulder ripping Raiden from his memory. He turned his head to see her sitting beside him, staring at him, with a worried expression on her face.
“You sure you’re all right? Did I make your food right?”
He smiled. “The Miso is delicious, Rochelle. Thank you for doing this. I know it couldn’t have been easy for you.”
She rolled her shoulders. “I wanted you to feel at home, Raiden. I know being this far away from your family and friends can’t be easy for you. Besides, you would have done the same for me.”
He chuckled. “I would have ordered in,” he told her truthfully. “I wouldn’t know the first thing about making Jamaican food. I think after burning down my house trying, I’d finally get the picture and have someone else do it.”
She nodded and lifted the spoon to her mouth and Raiden remained silent, watching the way her lips held the spoon. She didn’t slurp and no remnants of the soup fall back to her plate. He smiled and turned his attention to his bowl once more.
“Are you married, Rochelle?”
“No—if I did have a husband and he didn’t come home last night I would have been angry as hell this morning.”
He turned to see her grinning at him. He nodded. “Fair enough.”
Raiden wasn’t sure why he asked her that question; it just slipped out. She gave him a good-natured reply and that took a little bit of the weight off his shoulders.
“What are your plans for today?” he wanted to know. “I just assumed, since it is the weekend, you would rather be out than babysitting me.”
“I thought, maybe, we could visit the CN Tower.” She shrugged. “It’s a bit touristy but I haven’t been up there in years and I figured since you are here it’s the perfect excuse. The view alone is worth the admission.”
“Why haven’t you been up there
in years?”
“Been busy.”
“You’re afraid of heights.”
She nodded shyly and he laughed before reaching over to trail a finger briefly over her cheek. “It’s nothing to be ashamed of. Lots of people are afraid of heights. And the CN Tower would classify. Well, if you wish to take me out today you at least have to buy me dinner afterward and no going to second base on the first date.”
He watched her eyes widen and her lips pressed into a thin line.
“Of all the hair brained—”
Raiden couldn’t help himself. He burst out laughing and ducked as a piece of tofu went flying at his head. He laughed harder and looked up to see her smiling at him and shaking her head.
“You know, you’re gonna give me an ulcer,” she warned him.
That isn’t what I want to give you, Rochelle, trust me.
He arched a brow instead of voicing his thought. He knew if he did he would be on the first leaky anything back to Osaka. “Alright, we’ll go to the CN Tower today.”
Raiden finished his soup and stood from his seat. He gathered both their bowls and rinsed them. He walked up close behind her without touching. The urge for him to lay his hands on those rounded hips and pull her hard into his chest vibrated through him. Resisting became even harder. The closer he got to her, the more aroused he became. A part of him knew he needed to back off. But he couldn’t. He loved to do things to get a rise out of her because she was so adorable when he rendered her speechless. He moved his face over her right shoulder and inhaled her scent before speaking. “Don’t worry about today, Rochelle. If you get scared, I will hold your...hand.”
For the Love of Rei Page 3