Monster Among the Roses: A Beauty and the Beast Story (Fairy Tale Quartet Book 1)

by Linda Kage

  He blinked as if confused by my shock. “When else?”

  As he waved me away, I just stared at him. He sighed. “Indulge an old man, will you? It’s been too long since Izzy’s been out on the town. On an actual date. I want it to be special for her.”

  Those were exactly the words I needed to win me over. With a nod, I relented. This really would be the first date she’d been on in eight years. I wanted her to have the best too.

  I arrived at the address Henry had given me about ten minutes later. It was another lovely home, located on Porterfield Lane, but it wasn’t as big as Porter Hall. It was still impressive, though. As soon as I parked, the front door came open, and Isobel’s brother stepped outside.

  I don’t know why I was surprised to see him; it made perfect sense that Henry would send me to a man who owned half of a clothing company.

  Stopping on the front steps, Ezra crossed his arms over his chest. “Was this date your idea or my dad’s?”

  I sighed as I strolled toward him. “Well…” I started.

  A smile flickered across his face. “That’s what I thought. Why am I not surprised he had to go and meddle in your relationship?”

  With a shrug, I answered, “You know your father well.”

  “Yeah, I do.” He sighed and stepped aside to motion me into his home. “Did he even bother to give you the fatherly, respect-my-daughter-or-die lecture, or was he so excited that she was actually doing something for a change that he completely forgot?”

  “He did,” I said. Kind of.

  Ezra sniffed. “Doubtful. That’s why I think I’m going to have to give it, instead.” Flashing out his finger, he pointed and narrowed his eyes. “Don’t disrespect my sister, or I’ll kill you. And don’t let anyone else disrespect her either. Got it?”

  I lifted both hands and gulped. “Got it.”

  Narrowing his eyes a second longer as if to make sure I was sincere, he finally dropped his hand and relaxed. Then the easygoing Ezra I’d first met reappeared. “Okay, then. Let’s see what we have in my closet that might fit you?”

  I started to follow him down a hall, only to stop. “Wait, what? I’m borrowing your clothes?”

  He snorted and kept walking away. “What the hell did you think you were doing when he sent you this way?”

  Huh, now that he mentioned it, I hadn’t been thinking at all. With Henry Nash involved, calling the shots, I could’ve been headed to a tailor’s house to be fitted for some custom-made digs.

  Ezra was rapidly disappearing ahead of me, so I hurried to catch up. He entered a room, and when I followed him inside, I stepped into his bedroom. But he wasn’t there.

  “Where…?”

  “In here,” he called from a doorway deeper in the room.

  I went forward to find a walk-in closet.

  “Any certain color you want?” he asked conversationally, filing through suit jackets hanging from one wall. Yes, an entire wall full of suit jackets.

  Shaking my head, I watched numbly as he shrugged over my response and took one down. “See if that fits.”

  He tossed it my way. I caught it against my chest, and held it there before reluctantly trying it on. It was a damn good fit, not too snug in the shoulders, not too big in the waist and barely half an inch short in the arms, which only made me feel more uncomfortable. Was I really going to wear some other man’s clothes?

  Ezra skimmed his gaze over my torso before shrugging as if that would do, and he turned to a carousel full of ties.

  I quickly yanked the jacket back off, feeling as if I had cooties now. “Is it just me or is one guy borrowing clothes from another guy just plain weird?”

  “Hell yes, it’s weird.” Ezra picked out a handful of ties. “Which is why you’re signing an NDA before you’re allowed to leave my house.”

  I snorted. “As if I would ever tell anyone about this, anyway.”

  “Good.” He turned to me, holding up half a dozen ties. “Which one?”

  Dear God.

  “Hell if I know,” I answered, honestly.

  He sighed. “Look, you’ve got to give me something here. Do you want to look nice for my sister or not?”

  I shook my head. “Dude, you’re the one who works in the fashion industry.”

  His scowl was immediate. “I’m administrative.”

  I lifted my eyebrows, letting him know that made no difference to me. His closet was bigger than my entire apartment and was full of custom-made, name-brand clothes. He had to have more fashion sense than I did.

  Grumbling under his breath, Ezra picked out a tie and flung it at me. I looped it over my shoulder and watched him mutter some more as he chose a dress shirt and pants.

  “Wait until I’m out of here before you try the pants on,” he instructed before leaving me alone in his closet.

  I did, hustling to do so as soon as he was gone.

  Again, everything fit eerily well. The pants were a smidge too short, but not enough to look bad. I shifted around in everything, relieved it felt comfortable, and yet oddly aware I wasn’t in my own clothes.

  Just as quickly, I took everything off and pulled on my holey jeans and T-shirt.

  Slipping the suit back onto its assorted hangers, I draped everything carefully over my arm and left the closet. Ezra wasn’t waiting in the bedroom, so I entered the hall and found him in the front room, pacing the floor and scowling at something he was reading on his smartphone.

  “That wasn’t what I meant, and you know it, Lana,” he growled as he jabbed his finger angrily against the screen, pounding out a response to the message he’d obviously just received.

  I cleared my throat.

  He glanced up, then lifted his eyebrows, waiting for a report on sizes.

  I made the okay sign. “Everything fits perfect,” I said and nodded my gratitude, because I really did want to look good for Isobel, even if I had to wear someone else’s clothes to accomplish it. “Thank you.”

  He nodded and started to follow me toward the door when I headed that way. “You know this is her first date in eight years, right?”

  I slowed to a stop and gulped before facing him again. “I know. Any good advice?”

  “Yes.” He pointed at me and narrowed his eyes. “No sex with my sister in my suit.”

  With a frown, I growled, “I’m serious here, man.”

  “So am I,” he argued. “You seem like a decent guy. I’d seriously hate to have to kill you if you get out of line.”

  “And I’d hate to have to die,” I spit back. “But in all seriousness, I want this to be amazing for her. It’s your turn to give me something here.”

  “Man…” He shook his head and tossed me an amused grin. “I think you have Izzy pegged better than anyone. You’ll do fine.”

  I blew out a breath, bolstered by his faith in me and yet still uncertain. “You think?”

  Ezra laughed. “I only spent five minutes in a room with you two together, and it was obvious as hell. Now go get ready for your ball already, Cinderella.”

  Wrinkling my nose, I shook my head. “I’m not Cinderella.” Then, because I was lame and couldn’t think up a better retort, I said, “Y-you’re Cinderella.”

  Ezra blinked. “That has to be the worst comeback in the history of comebacks. Seriously, Hollander, in what universe would I be Cinderella?”

  He had a point. But I couldn’t be bested, so I shrugged. “I just saw your closet. Clearly, you have a shoe fetish. One of those fancy loafers has to be missing its pair.”

  “Weak,” he told me, chuckling. “Now go, before your lameness becomes contagious.” But he was grinning affably as he said it.

  I waved him goodbye before I realized we hadn’t discussed one thing. “Oh! Hey, when do you want this back?” I held up the suit.

  He made a face and shuddered. “Are you nuts? You’re probably going to have sex with my sister in that suit. I never want it back.”

  I rolled my eyes. “If it makes you feel better, I’m sure I’ll t
ake the suit off before I have sex with her.”

  Then I walked out the front door, unable to stop snickering.

  How was that for a lame comeback?

  “Damn you, Hollander!” he yelled after me. “You laugh it up now, you little bastard. We’ll just see who has the last laugh when I’m standing over your grave.”

  chapter

  TWENTY-THREE

  The next morning, I woke early, eager to see Isobel. I made myself lie there for a good half hour until it was the usual time I got up. Then I pulled on my jogging clothes, stuffed another outfit into my backpack, tucked my new mirror into the front pocket, and checked on my mom who was still sleeping peacefully, before I hurried out the door. It took me about ten minutes to reach my truck, when it typically took about fifteen. And then I made it to Porter Hall in about half the time I usually spent driving.

  The gate opened a minute later, letting me in, and I pulled around the back to my parking spot.

  Isobel hadn’t made it out to the lake by the time I jogged up to our starting spot. I paced and stretched, impatient for her to show. When I finally heard the crunch of gravel as she approached, my body clanged with awareness.

  “Hey,” she called, her voice full of pleasure when she caught sight of me already here. “You’re early today—mmph!”

  I cut her off with a kiss, tugging her into my arms and plastering her body to mine.

  “Are you sure you want to run today?” I asked breathlessly when we came up for air. “I can think of another way to exercise.”

  Her eyes flared with heat before she bit her lip. “What did you have in mind?”

  “Sex in the pool house shower,” I said, nipping my way down her throat as I confessed something I wanted to do every time I stepped into that shower: her. “Then in the bed. Then in the hot tub. Not necessarily in that order.”

  She shivered in my arms and ran her fingers through my hair. “I think you’re successfully tempting me.”

  I grinned against the swell of her breast. “We have a full hour before I need to clock in.” Then I bit her nipple right through her jogging shirt and sports bra. “Just think of all the ways I could make you come in a full hour.”

  She gasped before taking my hand and tugging me back up the trail toward the pool house. “Okay. I’m sold.”

  We were both laughing—okay, fine, giggling—by the time we reached the rock cave.

  As soon as we were closed inside, Isobel ripped her running shirt up over her head, and I was quick to follow, peeling off mine. We watched each other giddily, racing to see who could get naked first.

  Isobel won, whooping over her triumph as she called, “Hot tub first,” and raced over to dive into the bubbling warm water. I hurried in after her, tugging her onto my lap as soon as we were both submerged. She turned to face me, straddling me so she could wrap her legs around my waist. We kissed, and my chest slipped against her slick breasts, warm water spilling between us with each shift of our bodies.

  She worked her hips until she was pressing her entrance right against my cock. Hard and throbbing, I tried to push my way inside but the damn water worked against us. Plus, I realized I had no protection, even though I’d seen some in a drawer in the bathroom once. That was too far away, so I reached between us and messaged her clit, kissing her shoulder as the heat and vibration of the water brought her to an orgasm.

  Her fingernails bit into my arm as she came apart. I gasped with her, my body on fire. The sounds she made, the expression on her face, the way she trembled against me, it was the biggest high. I felt powerful and pleased as she started to settle and relax against me.

  “That was so hot,” I said into her scarred ear, before kissing it. “You are so fucking beautiful.”

  She looked up at me. “Did you say something? I don’t hear as well from that ear.”

  My lips parted. I’d never known that. I knew she couldn’t use her hand quite as well on the left side, but I’d never known about the hearing. I leaned in and kissed her gently.

  “I said I love you,” I told her.

  Her face softened. “I love you, too.”

  “Let’s continue this in the bedroom. I want to be on a bed the next time I’m inside you.”

  I stroked Isobel’s hair as she rested her head on my shoulder and breathed evenly. She was completely limp and relaxed and yet I somehow knew she was still awake.

  “Have I told you I could live here?” I asked, abandoning her hair to run my fingers down the side of her arm. “I could so totally live in this pool house for the rest of my life.”

  Her chuckle vibrated through my chest. “Yeah, you’ve mentioned it once or twice before.”

  I turned onto my side to face her, our noses only inches apart. “I want to live here with you.” That was a new part of my declaration: the addition of her.

  It made her cheeks radiate with pleasure. “Really?”

  I started to grin over the daydream until something in her expression made me pause. I’d just been spouting wishes aloud, but the way she brightened had me wondering if she thought I’d just suggested we actually move in together. Freezing, I stared in her eyes, not sure what to say.

  Living with her in this pool house would be an absolute dream come true. There was no denying that. But I couldn’t see how it could become a true possibility. First of all, it wasn’t my place to be inviting her to live with me here, and even if her father did allow us the opportunity, it would be a step down for Isobel and too big of a step up for me. I wasn’t sure I could handle being so far below her financially and socially. Which made me wonder how our relationship was going to continue at all. She might not have a problem with me being poor, but I couldn’t say I cared for being the destitute one, the one who couldn’t pull his weight. What if she began to resent me for dragging her down or started thinking I was some kind of gold digger? Not too long ago, I had thought my pride was dead, but it turned out, I did have some, and being so far beneath her didn’t sit well with me.

  Then, there was my mother to think of. I couldn’t just leave her, even though I knew she’d financially be okay now.

  As I looked into Isobel’s hopeful blue eyes, I had a moment where everything between us seemed absolutely impossible. Our future felt doomed. It sent a flurry of panic through me. I didn’t want to lose her. The world felt better when I was with her. We’d become a team, doing most of my handyman tasks around the house together. And I loved finally being able to touch her, and kiss her, and— But shit. I couldn’t picture a life between us, not where we could get married, have babies, and live happily ever after.

  It scared me. It was only a split second of fear; I’m sure I would’ve gotten over it in the next breath, and been fine again. But Isobel saw it in my eyes. She saw my hesitation, and she knew I hadn’t been seriously suggesting we move in together.

  The problem was I also knew she thought it was because I didn’t want to live with her. When she sat up and reached for her shirt to cover her chest, I sat up with her, another form of panic flooding me. I wanted to say something, reassure her, convince her I loved her with everything I had and wanted to be with her more than I’d ever wanted to be with anyone. But if I voiced any of my reservations, I feared she’d see them as excuses instead of reasons, and she’d think I wasn’t being honest about my feelings. What if she thought my issues and concerns were unsubstantial, and she tried to brush them off as no big deal? They were a big deal to me. I could suddenly picture this huge argument between us where she told me I was being an idiot—even though I already knew I was—and me denying it, and her wanting to throttle me, and me feeling more insecure, and all of it splitting us apart.

  Except by remaining silent now, I think she assumed I didn’t care enough about her.

  “Isobel…” I tried, reaching out to touch her back.

  She stiffened against my hand. It broke my heart, but I didn’t give up. I scooted in behind her and wrapped my arms around her from the back before setting my chin on he
r shoulder.

  “I don’t know how to show you how much you mean to me,” I admitted. I didn’t know how to fix this.

  She turned her cheek toward me. “What?”

  Realizing I was on her scarred side, I transferred my chin to her other shoulder, then kissed her cheek. “What’re we going to do today?” I asked as if nothing were wrong. “It’s almost eight.” Time to become the Porter Hall handyman.

  She turned around to face me, and for a moment, I feared I’d see hurt in her eyes, but instead she grinned. “I think it’s about time I gave you the grand tour.”

  Chuckling, I shook my head. “I think I’ve just about seen everything by now, haven’t I?”

  Blue eyes glittered as if amused by my ignorance. “Ah, but you’ve never heard about all the history behind everything you’ve seen.”

  I perked to attention. “History?”

  Her smile said just you wait. “Yeah. Like the chandelier in the entry. Were you aware it came from Germany, where the Gestapo had taken it from a hotel in France during World War II?”

  My mouth dropped open. “No freaking way,” I breathed. “I’ve changed lightbulbs in that thing.” I swear my fingers started to tingle, realizing I’d touched something Nazis had touched. My archeologist-loving heart began to beat a little faster.

  Isobel watched me as if she knew exactly what I was experiencing. “Every piece in this house holds some kind of historical significance. Dad doesn’t usually buy anything unless there’s some kind of meaning or story behind it.”

  No wonder why I’d always liked Henry. “It’s like a museum,” I uttered, flabbergasted.

  With a laugh, Isobel began to pull her clothes on. “Pretty much. Dad allows school bus loads of children to come in every fall and spring to take a tour. It’s one of his charitable contributions to the community, along with giving out a high-risk loan to one worthy candidate each year.”

  I met her gaze, and the look in her eyes told me something. Something I hadn’t considered before. “He knew he’d never see that money from my mother again, didn’t he?” I guessed.

  She shrugged. “He rarely gets reimbursed from any of them, so he writes them off as donations.”