Good point.”
“How’d you find out about him?”
“It was so great.” Rachel grabbed up one of the last two pizza sticks and took a bite. “I had to run back home after I dropped Zoe off at school, and there was a FedEx truck outside your house. I wondered what you were getting, and then this amazing-looking man opened your front door and signed for the package. When the truck drove off I went over, because”—she shrugged a little—“I wanted to make sure he wasn’t a burglar or something—”
“A burglar who signs for packages?”
“Fine. Shoot me. I’m nosy. Big revelation. Anyway, Brady introduced himself, and I swear, Cass, that man should be illegal or something. He says he’s living with you, and why didn’t you tell me THAT?”
I sighed. “I’m really scoring low on the best-friend test, aren’t I?”
“So far? Bottom third.”
“Fine, fine. He’s not living-with-me living with me. He’s just staying with me for a while.”
“Uh-huh.”
She didn’t roll her eyes, but it was implied. If she had known about the wake-up call I’d had that morning, she’d have been drooling into what was left of her margarita. The upside of this conversation was that I had stopped thinking about Devlin and Three Boob. The downside was, “What was in the package Brady signed for?”
Rachel drained her margarita. “He said it was a new set of pots and pans. Said he couldn’t cook with what you had. Which was kind of surprising, since your old pans have hardly been used at all.”
“New—”
“He also said he’d give me cooking lessons.”
“How do you know he can cook?”
“He made me breakfast. Belgian waffles.”
“I don’t have a Belgian waffle–maker.”
“You do now.”
Chapter Seven
I had more than a Belgian waffle–maker.
After leaving Tully’s, I went home and found boxes in the living room. Lots of boxes. Some empty, some still unopened, they littered the floor and formed a path into the kitchen. I only glanced at the names on the boxes, since I was really wanting to talk to the shopping Faery.
In passing, I caught a couple names I recognized—high-end kitchen goodies. Then there were the boxes from Pottery Barn and Macy’s. Intriguing.
But first things first. I hit the kitchen and, for a minute or two, thought I might be in the wrong house. The lights were bright against the coming night outside and shone down on counters crowded with…let me just tell you. I had a Belgian waffle maker, omelet pans, grilling pans, sautéing pans, saucepans, stockpots, Crock-Pots and griddles. I had more spoons, knives, spatulas and forks than I’d ever seen in one place before. And I had my own personal Faery busily cooking away at the stove. Poor stove. Probably wondering how it had landed in a strange house. The most I’d ever used the thing for was to heat up pizza.
Having a six-foot-five, muscular, gorgeous Faery working in her kitchen was enough to take a woman’s mind off her problems, anyway. Hard to sit and mope about Devlin or fret over Logan while I watched silvery bits of what I guessed was Faery dust sparkle in the air around Brady as he moved from stove to table and back again.
It turned out that even though Brady’d been a demon queen’s captive for a hundred years, he still knew his way around the Internet.
And he’d been busy.
Not only did we have a new set of pans, he’d figured out how to grocery shop online. Hard to argue with a Faery who stocked your house with food.
Sugar had OD’d on dog treats and was now flat on her back, tongue lolling out, all four paws extended, and snoring like a hairy drunk. Thea was acting like it was Christmas morning.
“Mom!” She pulled her head out of the fridge long enough to give me a wide smile. “Brady bought stuff for sandwiches. I mean, meat and cheese, and did you know there’s more than one kind of mustard? And there’s chicken and salad stuff and Snapple iced tea and—”
“I get it,” I said, cutting her off before she started giving me a shelf-by-shelf description. “We have food.”
Thea finally took a good look at me, and apparently the sight was enough to distract her even from the glories of food. “What happened to you?”
Thea’s eyes bugged out, and heck, even Brady looked sort of concerned. I glanced down at the front of me and noted my torn red blazer, the rip in my skirt that went halfway up my thigh and, oh, let’s not forget the bloody gashes on my knees. I looked back at Thea. “Bad demon day.”
“Are you okay?”
Hmm. Physically, I didn’t hurt as much anymore. Emotionally, I was still pretty much a train wreck. But no way do you tell your teenage daughter that you just caught your demon lover slipping it to a three-boobed wonder. So I sucked it all up and said, “Yeah. I’m fine.”
“Oh, good.” She flipped her long black hair behind her shoulder. “This is so cool. I don’t think the fridge has ever been this full.”
Fine. I admit it. Thea and I went through life buying what we needed when we needed it. We’re big on preservatives in our house. Cheetos have an eternal shelf life, for instance, so we’ve always got them and Pop Tarts. And coffee. And chocolate. And salad in a bag. It’s not like we’re food-deprived. We just weren’t used to seeing the kind of food you had to cook.
Brady was back at the stove stirring a gigantic, gleaming stainless-steel pot bubbling with something delicious and smiling at Thea like a benevolent uncle. “I’m making beef-and-barley soup for tonight.”
“MAKING soup?” Thea asked, slamming the refrigerator. “You mean it’s not from a can?”
Horrified, Brady sniffed. “Please.”
“Mom, are you getting this?”
“Traitor,” I muttered, then walked over to Brady’s side. Okay, fine. The soup smelled good. Great, even. But what I wanted to know was how he’d bought all this stuff. If he’d used my Visa card, he’d have had enough to buy maybe a soup ladle. If it was on sale. Not that I have bad credit or anything; it’s just that my Visa hovers pretty close to maxed-out most of the time.
Just the thought of that sent me on a search for chocolate.
I stepped over Sugar, walked to the table, pulled out a chair directly opposite Thea and dropped into it. I was feeling pretty pooped until I looked at the stack of food on the table and saw that Brady had also bought me Pop Tarts. There was a family-sized box on the table in front of me. Brown sugar and cinnamon. All for me.
Thea curled up in her chair, lifted her Snapple in salute and grinned. “Brady is so cool.”
The Faery in question shivered with pleasure, and even more of that Faery dust sparkled out all around him. But maybe not. Maybe I was just so wiped out from my totally crappy day that I was seeing things. Hallucinations. Fabulous.
I sighed and said, “So, Brady. Not that I don’t appreciate the soup and the Pop Tarts—”
“And chocolate, Mom,” Thea crowed, holding up a bag of Hershey’s Caramel Kisses. Just what I needed. He’d managed to get our favorite kind. Could Faeries read minds, too?
Scary thought.
“And chocolate,” I added, reaching for the bag and tearing it open. Don’t judge me. If ever a woman needed chocolate, it was me. Actually, I thought I was doing pretty well. After a day like I’d had, most people would have needed therapy.
“So,” I said, still chewing as I turned back to Brady, who was chopping carrots with an excellent—and new—knife. “How’d you buy all this stuff?”
He glanced at me, and those big blue eyes of his twinkled. Actually twinkled. “I used your computer. Online shopping is very easy.”
Tell me about it.
“I couldn’t very well leave Sanctuary without you,” he said. “Too dangerous. So I had them bring everything here. Amazing what you can buy online.”
“Uh-huh. I got that much. How did you buy it?”
“Hmm?”
“You know, how’d you pay for everything?”
He stopped, knif
e poised above the chopping block, and gave me a confused look. “Pay?”
Oh, boy.
I reached for more chocolate. “Brady, you had to use a credit card or something to order all this stuff. People don’t just give things away free. I mean, it’d be great if they did, but they just don’t.”
“They give things to Faeries.”
“Uh-oh,” Thea said, looking at the Snapple in her hand as if it were contraband. And, hey, it was. It was stolen Snapple and, being the superior human being she was, Thea couldn’t drink it. Being less superior, I had no problem eating stolen chocolate. In fact, I unwrapped three more, threw them in my mouth and lost myself in the glory of caramel.
I didn’t steal ’em.
“Faeries don’t have money,” Brady said with a shrug, slicing through the rest of the carrots in front of him with the touch of a master chef. “We don’t need it.”
“You just STEAL things?” Thea asked, and I could see that in her eyes, Brady was losing his cool factor pretty quickly.
He scooped up the carrots, tossed them into the bubbling pot, then gave his soup another stir. Instantly clouds of amazingly scented steam lifted into the air, and I had to remind myself that I should be mad at him. After all, he was a felon Faery.
Or Faery felon.
Whatever.
“Brady, you can’t just steal stuff from people.”
“I don’t steal.” He straightened up to his full, pretty impressive height. Lifting his chin, he gathered dignity around him like a cloak and said, “Faeries have always lived this way. We do not steal. We take only what we need. And we give those we take from a sense of well-being, of having done something noble and good. They feel as though they have helped the less fortunate and gained much in their karmic souls. Many go on to donate to other worthy causes.”
A headache jolted behind my eyes. “When you get stuff online you have to use a credit card number, Brady,” I said, really striving for some calm. “Whose did you use?”
He looked appalled at the suggestion. “I would not do that. I made up the number and used magic.”
“Magic?”
He shrugged. “It was not difficult.”
So my overworked Visa was off the hook, and he hadn’t exactly stuck anyone else with the bill. Still, he had to be stopped.
I picked caramel off my back teeth with my tongue and studied the affronted Faery. “So you think that by taking stuff from people without paying for it, you’re actually doing them a favor.”
He absolutely beamed, pleased that I understood. “Exactly.”
I shot a look at Thea and knew she wasn’t buying this either. In fact, she was looking a little sick.
I shook my head and sighed. “You can’t keep doing this, Brady.”
“It’s the Faery way.”
“Not while you’re living with me. We can buy our own groceries.”
He frowned. “This is a rule?”
“Sure. A rule.” Because I always have such excellent luck laying down rules.
“I see.” He studied me for a moment, then nodded. “You do this to set a good example for Thea?”
“Partly,” I said, as fatigue weighed down on me like a sack of rocks. “But mostly because you just shouldn’t be stealing from people, Brady.”
He inclined his head briefly. “Then it will be so.”
“Mom?”
I looked at Thea.
“Is it okay for us to eat this stuff?”
I took another chocolate, balanced the shiny brass-colored blob in the palm of my hand and thought about it for a moment. “Yeah. It’s okay. We didn’t know how he bought it. And it’s already here. It’d be worse to waste food, wouldn’t it?”
Thea considered that, her genius brain working over tricky things like ethics versus greed. Then she picked up her Snapple and took a drink. “You’re right.”
(Like I said—Thea goes for the rules she likes.)
“But no more felonious Faery shopping,” I said, giving Brady a stern look.
“This seems foolish,” he said, “but it will be as you wish.”
I woke up tingling again, and if a part of my brain knew it was Brady and I should stop him, a bigger part of my brain didn’t care. Give me a break. I’d had a crappy day and a couple of long hours of feeling sorry for myself.
So when I felt those magic fingers dancing across my skin, I kept my eyes closed and enjoyed it. Yes, I may have some slut issues, but I’m planning on working on them.
Someday.
I shifted on the sheets and realized something.
I was naked.
Hmm. Now, I usually sleep in an extra-large T-shirt and panties—you know, in case of fire I wanted to be able to grab Thea and run outside. No way in hell would I want to face a truckful of firefighters stark naked.
So I had to wonder what happened to my nightie. Had Brady taken it off me? Apparently. Then how’d I sleep through that? More Faery magic?
His fingers slid across my body, and I told myself not to worry about it. I mean, really. Weren’t there bigger things to think about at the moment?
The bed dipped, and I knew Brady was getting comfy. I should probably have said something. You know, stopped him. But my hoo-hah was all stirred up, and there’s something to be said for an orgasmic wake-up call.
His hand slid across my belly, and the heat he put out was really amazing. Just the touch of his skin to mine sent tiny bursts of electrical energy buzzing through me, and let me tell you, I was ready for it. I’d been cheated on and dumped. I’d been humiliated.
Now, here was Brady, a really nice guy, who’d been nothing but sweet and helpful and nice to my kid. Why shouldn’t I be able just to enjoy what he offered?
Why shouldn’t I get a nice little Faery-driven good time?
“Beautiful,” he whispered close to my ear, and I ate that up. Let’s face it, none of us are beauties first thing in the morning, but hearing a gorgeous man lie about it was kind of comforting.
“Why’re you here, Brady?” I whispered, arching into his touch as his fingers slid lower and lower down my body.
“To give you pleasure,” he said, his voice deep and quiet, a hush in the air. “To share with you.”
He really was good at the pleasure thing, and for a second or two I told myself that I should get up. Get out of that bed and remind him that I’d told him he shouldn’t be doing this. Then I heard him say, “You are the Duster, strong, brave. It is my honor to touch you.”
I gasped when his fingers dipped low enough to touch the good stuff. Let’s face it: No way was I going to tell him to stop now.
One stroke. Two.
I was quivering and more than ready for this. Boy, was I ready. He must have been lying beside me for hours, stroking and petting me, to get me this churned up. I wished I’d been awake for more of it.
He bent over me.
I still didn’t have my eyes open; I could just feel what he was doing. Then his mouth closed over one of my nipples. His lips, his tongue, even his teeth moved over that hard tip, and let me tell you, the man had a great mouth.
While he was sucking on me, his fingers dipped inside and stroked me hard, inside and out. My hips were rocking, my eyes were squeezed shut and a buildup of something incredible was mounting fast. God.
There was something more going on than just an orgasm, though. My whole body felt like it was shimmering, glowing. Every time he touched me that sensation got bigger.
And he was touching me a lot.
Before I could figure out what was going on, my hoo-hah sat up and shouted. It felt like every cell in my body was splintering and, boy, was it fun! The ripples went on for, like, ever, and I was happy to ride them. But finally, of course, that incredible orgasm ended.
“Whoa.” I opened my eyes, looked up into his steady blue gaze and thought about surrendering to the slut within. The man was just too gorgeous for words, you know? And he wanted me. But that would only complicate my life even further, and was it really
fair of me to sleep with a guy who was depending on me to keep him alive?
“That is just the beginning,” he promised, and I believed him. The man had some serious talent.
But dawn was starting to lighten the night outside, and pretty soon Thea would be up. I couldn’t let her catch Brady in bed with me.
So reluctantly I lifted his hand away from party time and said, “You’ve got to stop doing this.”
Points for me.
“You didn’t like it?”
“Oh, I liked it fine,” I said, and noticed that he was sparkling again. Faery dust surrounded him like a silver aura. He was covered in magic. “I really like you, Brady.”
He smiled at me, and I have to say the man was truly amazing-looking.
“It’s just,” I said, “we shouldn’t be doing this.”
“Another rule?” He frowned.
“Yeah, a rule.”
Brady sighed and pushed himself around to lean against the headboard. “You have many rules.”
“I know it must seem that way.” Suddenly I felt a little too naked. I tugged the sheet out from under him and draped it over myself. “Look, I really appreciate the attention.” I swept one hand through my hair, scooted up beside him and looked at him. “Especially this morning, since after yesterday I so needed it, but you don’t owe me anything, Brady. You can have sanctuary with no strings. You don’t have to do this…” I waved a hand at the bed.
“But this is pleasurable,” he countered, looking more confused than ever.
“Right there with ya, sparky,” I said, still enjoying the remaining buzz lighting up my insides and wishing I could go again. Boy howdy, I felt great. Seriously great. Like my batteries had just gotten a fresh charge. Rachel swears an orgasm is the best sedative she’s ever tried. But for me it’s the opposite. And this orgasm was like a lithium battery or something.
“I wish to touch you.”
Hmm.
I shook my head. “Like I said, I appreciate it, but not necessary.”
“But you were unhappy and now you are not.”
“True.”
“And it is better to be happy, yes?”
“You bet.”
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