“She can’t turn this down. She’ll be paid well, the kids will be taken care of, and the house can be fixed. She needs you to make it happen.”
During the negotiation, Alex had been designated her assistant. He would babysit, help navigate the endless amount of information Geoffrey had gathered over his thousand-plus years on earth—which Alex had already spent the last five months trying to do—and he would be the general contractor overseeing repairs to the house while she worked. It was the perfect position for him. He’d be here to guard them all, to grow closer to the children, and to develop a relationship with their lovely aunt.
If she ever looked up from the monitor.
“Thank you.”
Geoffrey shrugged. “I’m getting fair market value. It’s not charity.”
“I think knowing that is responsible for half her glow.” Alex smiled. It was a brilliant plan.
It lived. That was the only way Elizabeth could describe the pile of laundry that had grown despite her best efforts. But for the first time since returning home, the huge piles didn’t depress her. She switched out the washer and dryer, thinking of the parameters Geoffrey had given her.
He’d been more than generous, offering a salary and bonus structure for each major stage of the project. And in the end, it had been her choice to refuse. But she’d chosen not to. Even though it meant working with Alex. Even though it meant she’d face him every day, knowing what he wanted from her. But there was more to this than just a steady job.
They were studying angels and demons. As she’d pored through Geoffrey’s files, noting which ones were the most recently accessed, their area of study had been obvious. They wanted to understand the paranormal world that operated in and around the real one.
She didn’t have a lot of answers. In truth, she’d hidden from as many as she could over the years. For a long time, she’d even forgotten who and what her father was and why he was trapped in her mind. She’d submerged her gift, terrified of committing the same atrocity that had killed her father’s physical form—drawing him into a dream and refusing to let go.
She’d paid for her mistake every night when he showed her his horrific visions of the future. She’d been unable to stop them. To warn anyone. To change anything. Her dream world had become a nightmare land, shrouded in shadow and buried under rock, with a door to lock her father away. A door that never held him unless he allowed it.
She’d hidden the truth, buried it for years. But now Charles Astor Raines had shown Alex a vision of her family, a branch that ended abruptly. He’d then given her dire warnings about her that could sicken the family tree. And he’d used Alex as a guide. A ghost Alex who’d never touched her. One who’d sunk into his grave with a warning on his lips. The danger is coming. Choose well. And it didn’t seem like her mother’s impending death had been the big worry.
Alex and Geoffrey were studying angels and demons. They wanted her to build a program to help them. Something bad was coming. Whatever it was had the ability to destroy her entire family. It was possible her family could be saved, but their path could blacken and twist down roads they shouldn’t travel if she didn’t think carefully.
Compared to her future self, the maelstrom of her thoughts only highlighted her self-doubt. If only she could be as calm and confident about her choices as she’d been in the vision. She could have that confidence but she’d also be stuck with the rest. Only viewing her future from the outside had highlighted the loneliness and sadness of a Christmas tree with one generic present.
Elizabeth shut the dryer and turned the knob. She’d just have to make the time to think. A few seconds later, the swish of the washer joined in. As she bent to separate and organize piles of clothes, white noise filled her ears and the only sounds she could hear were her own thoughts.
Elizabeth left the laundry room and headed upstairs, noticing the position of the kids as she went. She had a project for them and if she ever wanted to get a jump on the endless piles of laundry, she needed to take what time she had to put it into effect.
Danger was coming, but it wasn’t here yet. And she needed to have as much of the chaos around her under control as she could. Pulling a plastic chest of drawers full of plastic hangers, washable paints, and other art supplies from the closet, she picked up the stack and headed back down the hallway. It was bulky and she had to peer around the side to watch her step.
“Elizabeth?” Geoffrey’s voice sounded from her right and she jumped. The stack wobbled in her arms. He helped her set it on the ground and she met his gaze.
“Sorry to almost run you over.”
He nodded and walked toward the bathroom. “I think this is working now.”
Elizabeth frowned as she entered the small room. That was fast. But as she looked around, she noticed even more. A new seat on the toilet. New faucets for the sink and shower. There was no way he’d had time to shop and install all of this in the time she’d been doing laundry.
“Pretty sure of yourselves, weren’t you?” She met Geoffrey’s enigmatic gaze.
“Alex knew what to get, so we picked it up this morning.”
“And you knew you’d be staying.” And here she thought she’d had a choice.
Geoffrey shrugged. “Of course. I don’t make deals I know will fail. That would waste time.”
Of course. That wouldn’t be logical, and Geoffrey was nothing if not logical. Elizabeth shook her head and smiled reluctantly. He and her boss, Chuck, would get along so well. Besides, he was right. Time shouldn’t be wasted. She had too little in which to accomplish too much.
“Try them out. Make sure they work.”
A quick turn of the knob and water rushed from the faucet, filling the bottom of the sink and draining through the new strainer that blocked the drain. The toilet flushed quickly and quietly with no hesitation and the shower worked perfectly. These things had to have been expensive, but they were so necessary.
“Were you a plumber in a past life or something?”
“Why do you ask?”
Elizabeth smiled at him over her shoulder. “They’re perfect.”
He nodded. “They deserve it.”
He meant the kids and he was right. The house had four bathrooms. One in the basement. One on the main floor. One for everyone upstairs, and the master bath off her mom’s room. The master bath and the basement had been the only steadily working bathrooms for the last two weeks. Two bathrooms for nine children and Elizabeth. It had been a nightmare.
She smiled. The sink wouldn’t spit at her. The toilet wouldn’t clog. The shower wouldn’t drip. He was right. They needed it. The new job had included a contract bonus with immediate payment. She could afford repairs and tools, but Geoffrey and Alex had offered to do much of the work themselves so the check could stretch further. It was too good to pass up.
Elizabeth infused her voice with all the appreciation she genuinely felt. “Thank you, Geoffrey.”
Geoffrey’s eyes brightened and his shoulders relaxed the tiniest degree. She hadn’t noticed they were tense. “I was thinking I would do the downstairs bathroom next.”
She shook her head. How did he do it? Plumbing kicked her butt. “Oh, that one hasn’t worked for a month. I don’t know if it’s fixable at this point.”
“I’ll fix it.” His voice was determined. “Where do you need this?” Geoffrey glanced at the storage chest on the floor.
She waved him away. “I can carry that.”
He raised an eyebrow.
Elizabeth’s mouth snapped shut. Obeying his unspoken order, she pointed. “In the kitchen.”
She followed him as he moved easily through the clutter to the much cleaner kitchen. He set the things on the table and left for the main bathroom. Elizabeth watched him disappear, frowning slightly. She’d never met anyone like Geoffrey before. He decided how a situation should be, set the parameters to make it so, then zoomed toward his target like a heat-seeking missile. He was unstoppable. And luckily, for the time being, his go
als coincided with hers.
Elizabeth prayed their goals were never at odds.
Chapter Nine
Shaking her head in bemusement, Elizabeth turned around and met Alex’s amused gaze. “Is he always in command?”
He grinned. “Pretty much.”
Elizabeth watched him deftly chop vegetables with a speed that would have cost her some fingers. Alex moved quickly, his hands lean and capable, strong and in control, handling the sharp blade carefully but without fear of any kind.
Watching him shouldn’t have mesmerized her so completely, but it did. This was Alex, the real Alex in real life, and there were more reasons to let him stay than to push him away. For the first time in twelve years, she could enjoy the way his jeans hugged his ass. The way his shirt stretched across his long back. The way his hair fell into his face. It was long, soft, and touchable, but not girlishly so.
Everything he felt for her was in his eyes. Attraction. Flirtation. Need. Elizabeth licked her lips. A split second before he looked up, she looked away and refused to meet his gaze. It was time for work. Playing wasn’t an option.
Elizabeth draped a drop cloth on the table and opened packs of red, white, blue, green, and black hangers. She set squirt bottles of paint in the middle of the table and strung a line for the hangers to dry after being painted. She was ready for the kids.
Glancing out the window, she decided to let them play just a little longer while she set up tubs for the kids’ socks. A tower of eight small drawers would hold their underwear, and she taped index cards to the front for their names. The baby wouldn’t need a drawer for a while and Shelly kept her clothes separate, so eight drawers would work. Hopefully, having the clothes set up in the laundry room would enable her to put stuff away and find it much easier.
Alex opened cans of stewed tomatoes and olives, dumping them into a pot along with a pinch of this and a dash of that. She couldn’t see exactly what he used, but the smells filled the kitchen pretty quickly, making her stomach rumble. It looked like spaghetti, but without red sauce. Instead, he used teriyaki sauce with noodles and vegetables and sausage. It made her mouth water just looking at it.
By the time the kids came in from outside, the laundry was beginning to look under control. Elizabeth directed them to chairs around the table and helped them into little painting smocks made of plastic garbage bags with holes for their heads and arms.
The basement door banged open and a frustrated looking Shelly stomped through the doorway. “She’s crying again.”
Shelly dropped Veronica into Elizabeth’s arms, her eyes full of fatigue. “I already changed and fed her. I don’t know what else to do.”
When Elizabeth had first arrived, Shelly wouldn’t trust her baby sister with anyone, least of all someone she thought would be leaving soon. That she did so now wasn’t exactly a sign of confidence. It was more like desperation.
Shelly carried an unrelenting burden as the oldest. One her mother, Dallas, should be shouldering. But until she came home, Elizabeth was all Shelly had to fall back on. Shelly was strong, independent, and capable. Incredibly so for a fourteen-year-old. It was only her sarcastic mouth that made her difficult sometimes.
Elizabeth took the baby and watched Shelly stomp to the door to the basement where her room was. “I bought black hangers for you. Do you want to—”
“It doesn’t matter. Just keep them plain. I like plain black.”
Then she was gone and Elizabeth was distracted by eight children full of too much energy. She explained the project to them and hurried around the table, juggling the baby until Veronica quit fussing.
Tommy had other ideas, though. Grabbing a stack of white hangers, he piled them up, squirted blue paint over them in a zigzag mess, and yelled, “Done!”
Elizabeth had barely taken them from his hand when he streaked from the room. “Wait! Where are you going?”
He slid to a stop. “To watch Geoffrey.”
“But …” Elizabeth juggled wet hangers and a struggling baby until they were hung and Veronica was safely in the high chair. It didn’t matter, however. Tommy was already gone. Elizabeth looked at the door and sighed.
Alex turned from the stove. “He’ll be fine. Don’t worry.”
“I just don’t want him in the way.” How could she describe the destruction that followed Tommy like a shadow?
“He won’t be. Relax.” Alex handed the baby a carrot and returned to the cutting board.
Spotting movement from the corner of her eye, Elizabeth turned in time to see Sarah squirt pink paint in Jessie’s hair. The older twins laughed and held their paintbrushes like swords, ready to fence across the kitchen. Elizabeth snatched them up before the red and yellow paint splattered everywhere. The baby banged her carrot on her tray, squealing with joy as Elizabeth rushed around. At least it was washable paint.
After a half-hour that seemed like forever, the twins were back to the PS2. The toddlers laid themselves on the couch, hugging their favorite dolls. The baby banged happily in her high chair and Kevin had disappeared.
Only Teddy remained as he finished carefully painting his name in block letters on the last hanger.
Elizabeth spread the hangers evenly on the line, trying to ignore the cramping in her stomach. Dinner smelled so good, she could almost taste it. When Teddy finished the last hanger, she untaped the drop cloth, balled it up, and threw it and the empty bottles of paint away. The table was clean again and she could take a breath.
“That’s a really good idea, for them to each have their own hangers.”
Her stomach rumbled again. When had she eaten today? Had she eaten today? “I read about it in a magazine. Next, I hang them with full outfits, pants and shirts or dresses and tights. Then they grab one hanger in the morning and put on the clothes instead of digging through the laundry baskets. I just have to get it all washed and organized now.”
She rushed into the laundry room to change the laundry, coming back with a basket of towels to fold. She gave in to her curiosity. “That smells delicious. What is it?”
“Teriyaki spaghetti. My mom taught me how to make it. You just throw ground sausage, noodles, teriyaki sauce, and veggies into a pot and have a salad on the side. I can handle simple cooking.”
She laughed. Simple? Not smelling like that. “What do you normally eat?”
“Takeout. Fast food.”
“Not exactly healthy.”
“I know. And you’d think for someone who runs a martial arts studio, I’d pay more attention to eating healthy, but I guess it’s a fatal flaw.”
Alex shrugged his shoulders, stretching his T-shirt against his chest. It was firm, hard. Not in a vain, I-want-people-to-notice-my-perfect-body way, but in a sleek, gracefully powerful way. Alex turned back to the stove and her wayward eyes fell lower again. Damn, jeans looked good on him.
“The downstairs bathroom is functional now.”
Elizabeth jumped guiltily and spun toward Geoffrey’s noncommittal grey eyes. Her face was so hot it hurt.
“The downstairs bathroom is functional now,” a gruff voice reiterated.
Elizabeth blinked and looked down. Nine-year-old Tommy stood with his feet braced, his hands at his sides, and a serious look on his face. She tried not to laugh. Really, it would hurt his feelings. She bit the inside of her cheek and stared at Geoffrey until the desire faded.
“Very good, men. Excellent job.” She tried, but the humor in her tone couldn’t be missed.
Geoffrey nodded and turned toward the living room. Tommy nodded and followed, his head barely higher than Geoffrey’s waist. Elizabeth watched them walk off with the same arm-swinging style as a smile tugged at her lips. They looked so cute.
A glob of something wet and warm landed on her nose. She blinked and turned wide eyes to Alex, who was suddenly standing right next to her.
“Don’t make me jealous.” His eyes were sparkling as he bent and licked off the drip of sauce, then kissed the tip of her nose. “I like it better whe
n you ogle me.”
Surprise, shock, and embarrassment froze her in place. Speechless and wide-eyed, she stared as he walked over and stirred the pot, mumbling about salt.
Elizabeth looked down at the warm, fluffy towel in her hand. Her mind remained blank for an embarrassingly long moment before she slowly started folding it.
“I’m sorry.”
Elizabeth raised her eyes to Alex’s sincere gaze. He was sorry? For kissing her? Don’t be sorry, she wanted to beg. “For what?”
Alex examined her face and came to lean against the table next to her. “For crowding you. Making you feel uncomfortable.”
She raised a brow and eyed the nearly nonexistent distance between them. “But you don’t stop doing it.”
He smiled that infectious smile of his. “I’m not that sorry.”
She smiled up at him. She was flirting back; she knew it and couldn’t seem to stop. It was a bad idea, but things were changing so fast she couldn’t even tell where she was, and flirting with him felt good.
“Perhaps I should explain.” Elizabeth stepped back a pace and gestured in a circle around her. “This is personal space.”
Alex reached out, hooked a finger through one of her belt loops and pulled her up against his chest. “I like this space better.”
That quickly, she lost her breath. Elizabeth pressed her hands to his chest and arched back. “I think you’re missing the point.”
“Nah.” Alex brushed her ponytail back and stared at her neck a moment. He looked for the bite mark, but didn’t see it and was disappointed. “I just know what I want, whether it’s close to the point or not.”
Her gaze fell to his lips as they came closer, slowly, steadily until Alex rubbed his lips against hers, lightly, then firmer. This wasn’t logical. She didn’t have the time for this. But his mouth fit hers. His taste. His scent. He appealed to her on a basic level where logic didn’t belong.
Alex slid his arm around her waist and braced her neck with his other hand as his mouth opened and the kiss deepened. Elizabeth stretched along him, arching her back and pressing her breasts into his chest. She’d desired him in her dreams, mind to mind, but her body had never flared to life like this.
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