Scented Dreams ((A Dogon-Hunters Series Novel))

by Turner Banks, Jacqueline

  “And that’s relevant how?” Kingsley asked.

  “We are not a couple!”

  Ian sat back in his chair. He’d been waiting to hear her make that correction. He wanted to listen to her thoughts, but he suspected he would meet Kingsley in her head. He didn’t want her father to think he’d taken an unfair advantage with her, especially considering that he didn’t listen in often with anybody.

  He tried to bully her into coming back to him, Kingsley said silently.

  Thank you, Ian told him.

  Dot filled Nesta’s plate like she had to hoe the back forty after dinner. Nesta put back most of the potato salad and about half of the cole slaw. Ian noticed she kept the ribs and ear of corn.

  “Who barbecued, you or Daddy?”

  “You tell me.”

  Nesta took a bite. “The sauce isn’t hot—must be Daddy’s.”

  Ian wondered what was happening. Some kind of family dynamic? Kingsley kept glaring at her for another ten minutes while she and her mother made all kinds of inane comments about the food, the backyard garden, family, and finally the party preparations. They kept him involved by periodically looking at him and explaining certain things like: “they’re my cousins but they don’t speak to each other,” Dot’s theory about why she liked spicy hot food, and “I planted the tulips for Nesta and the lavender for Kingsley.”

  “What do I have to do with lavender?” Kingsley asked, finally lulled out of his funk.

  “I've told you before. You smell like lavender to me.”

  “That’s odd. Ian smells like lavender to me too,” Nesta admitted.

  Oh my God!

  Kingsley thought it loud enough for Ian to look up, but he had no idea what caused the retired Hunter’s reaction.

  When evening came they all watched a movie in the family room. Kingsley was proud of his new large high density screen television, and Dot was proud of her theater-style, albeit extremely comfortable, seating. The movie was funny and romantic, and they all enjoyed watching it in the presence of their own romantic partners.

  When it was over, Dot refused all offers of help with the kitchen. Kingsley announced that he needed to do some work for an early morning meeting.

  “Let’s sit on the deck,” Nesta said.

  Dot turned on the dishwasher and walked into the laundry room. “Ogo, I need to talk to you,” she whispered into the fabric softener-scented air of the darkened room. “Come on, Ogo, can’t you hear me? This always works for Kingsley.” She turned on the light.

  “Dot?” It was just his voice. “Is something wrong?”

  “No, but I need a minute.”

  “I’m kind of busy right now.”

  “Ogo, I’ve never asked you . . .”

  He materialized before she could finish. He was wearing a towel and dripping wet.

  “Come on, my brother, I know you could have done better than that. But I do appreciate the show.”

  Dot really did enjoy looking at him. He was beautiful in a way that seemed unreal to her, like a painting or the moon. Too perfect, but untouchable. More than once or twice over the years she’d wondered what it would be like to make love with Ogo.

  Dot blinked and the water was gone and he was dressed in a three-piece brown suit with thin gold pinstripes.

  From almost the first time they’d met, Dot had the ability to see through him. Ogo felt she came very close to being a human he could love, if he didn’t already love her husband and would rather die than hurt him.

  “What is it, Dorothy Jean? I was really enjoying that shower, and my washers are subject to forget why they’re there. They’re twins with the combined IQ of a genius.”

  “Try as you might, you’re never going to embarrass me again.”

  When Kingsley and Dot first got together, Fox relished in his ability to say the one thing that would outrage her and piss off Kingsley.

  “About every five years or so, I have occasion to mention to my husband that he smells like lavender to me. At least twice you were around when it happened. Each time he forgets that he’s heard me say that before, but each time he and he and you get these goofy smiles on your faces. Tonight Nesta mentioned that Ian smells like lavender to her, and Kingsley looked like he didn’t know if he wanted to shit or go blind. What does it mean, Ogo?”

  She had to wait for him to stop laughing.

  “I wish I could have been there to see that!”

  She looked at him and squinted. “You already knew, didn’t you? Nesta had already told you. What does it mean?”

  “It might not mean anything, but there’s an old Dogon legend that you’ll smell lavender when you meet your true mate.”

  “Oh my God.”

  “Dot, I told you, you don’t have to call me that!”

  “Not funny. As I’ve said before, I draw the line at blasphemy.”

  “I’m sorry, you’re such an easy mark.” He leaned over and kissed her cheek. “I’ve got to go. Nesta is in the kitchen, and she heard you talking. See you Friday.”

  “Mom, are you in there?”

  Dot opened the door. “What’s wrong?”

  “I was about to ask you that. Were you talking to yourself?”

  Dot crossed her fingers, although technically it wasn’t a lie when she said, “Why does everybody always ask me that when I’m singing?”

  Nesta grinned. “Sorry.”

  She turned to leave, and her mother caught her arm. Without speaking, Dot reached up and hugged her little girl. “I’m so happy for you,” she whispered in Nesta’s ear.

  “Because I what?” Nesta smiled as she waited for her mother’s answer. Dot just smiled back. Nesta held out her hand palm up in the “gimme” gesture when Dot didn’t answer.

  “Because you’re young, gifted and black!”

  They both laughed. “I haven’t heard you say that in a long time. Seriously, why are you so happy for me?”

  “Because you have two guys interested and one is perfect for you.”

  Nesta’s right eyebrow shot up. “Really? Which one?”

  “That’s for you to figure out.”

  A wave of leftover teenage anger ran through her. Nesta caught it before it influenced her tone. “I have to figure it out, but you already have?”

  “No, not me—the universe has figured it out.”

  “The universe?”

  Dot nodded.

  “But you’re tapped into the universe enough to know?’

  Dot tried not to smile. “I have friends in high places. I hear things.”

  “You’re getting strange, like Grandma.”

  That really tickled Dot. She left, laughing, with her daughter still in the laundry room.

  * * * *

  Kingsley closed the report when he realized he’d read the same page three times. Nesta, his daughter, his baby, was to be mated with a Hunter? He didn’t know how he felt about it. He didn’t even know if the legend was true. He wanted to call Ogo, but he didn’t feel like talking to him about anything but the legend. If Ogo was in a mood to talk there could be no way to rein him in, and he was a long sitter. Kingsley had a breakfast meeting in the city.

  He could understand a Hunter wanting to be mated. The long, tedious life of a single Hunter wasn’t a life he would wish on anyone. His true happiness hadn’t begun until he’d met Dot.

  “And your marriage has been good for both of you.”

  Kingsley turned slowly. Fox ignored the yellow glow in his friend’s aura. Kingsley wasn’t really angry until his aura turned purple. When he was ready to kill, he had no glow.

  “I’ve asked you not to do that!” Kingsley said through gritted teeth.

  “Then stop mentally calling me. I’ve told you that!”

  Kingsley noticed Ogo had whispered. He didn’t know if it was because he didn’t want to be overheard or because he was getting angry.

  Kingsley couldn’t afford to take the chance that it was the latter—he backed down. Softly he said, “I didn’t call you, I t
hought about you. I know you know the difference.”

  It pained Fox that his friends were afraid of him, but he didn’t blame them. “I need to be in Taejon, South Korea to save a Hunter’s ass in ten minutes. Make it fast.”

  “We have Hunters in Taejon?”

  “Why wouldn’t we? Talk to me about Ian.”

  “Is he right for her?”

  “Apparently somebody thinks so.”

  “Who?”

  “Come on, you know I wouldn’t answer that if I knew. Ask me what you need to know about Ian.”

  “Is he a good man?”

  “Absolutely. Vain as most Hunters, as arrogant as you, but sensitive almost to a fault. They’ll be good together.”

  “You sound like you’re already good with this.”

  “I don’t fight what I can’t change, and I’ve had a little longer than you to get used to the idea.”

  “Is it a done deal?”

  Fox sighed. “No, of course not. Both of them have free will, and both are stubborn enough to fuck this up royally. But he’s falling in love with her, and he likes you and Dot a lot. He’s been mentally rehearsing a way to ask me to help her get into UC Davis Med School.”

  Kingsley smiled. “He wants her to be a doctor?”

  “He wants her to be happy, and he’ll do what it takes to make it happen.”

  Kingsley nodded. “I wonder why I didn’t think of asking you.”

  “You never do.” He stopped talking and listened like he was hearing something in the distance. “She loves him too. I got to go, bye.”

  He was gone before the word “bye” reached Kingsley’s ears.

  Chapter Nineteen

  “This is just nice,” he said aloud, although he hadn’t planned it.

  His statement surprised her and, she suspected, it surprised him. At that moment it was a somewhat girly thing to say—not at all Ian’s style. She felt it would embarrass him if she agreed or commented.

  She snuggled closer. They were lying side by side on a deck sofa that was as comfortable as the furniture in his living room.

  “I remember one summer my daddy hung mosquito netting up and he and I slept out here some nights. I need to ask my parents about it because I’m not so sure why now, but I’m thinking the house wasn’t air conditioned when we first moved in. It’s funny what you remember, isn’t it?”

  “It is. Where was your mother?”

  “She’s not an out doorsy person.”

  “Kingsley never worked nights when you were a kid?”

  “No, but sometimes Uncle Ogo would arrive and they would be out all night. It happened a few times when I was a young teenager, and I remember asking my mother how she knew he was really working. All the work I knew about, as far as he was concerned, was business, and I didn’t know anything about that being night work.”

  Ian chuckled. “What did Dot say?”

  “She said she worried about him, but never about his love for her or his desire for someone else.”

  “Nesta? I’m not going to make love to you in your father’s house.”

  “Why not?”

  “It’s probably disrespectful, and I’m pretty sure we can’t get away with it.”

  “Okay, but why are you telling me now?”

  “Because you’ve got to stop wiggling like that. I really want to fuck you.”

  She laughed. “Do you mean like this?”

  “Ohh, Nesta, you must stop.”

  Somebody on the lake shore sent off some fireworks, causing both of them to stop.

  “Did you see that too, or is it just because I’m with you?” he asked.

  “Damn, Ian, I was wondering the same thing.”

  For the next few minutes they watched the fireworks that a family of three had left over from the fourth of July. That the family chose that moment to set them off was considered providence by them both. Ian hugged her closer and tried hard not to think about how empty his arms would feel in another week. After the fireworks, they went inside and to their separate beds.

  Nesta knocked on his door just before nine the next morning. “Let’s go have breakfast in the city. I’ll show you around.”

  She was still wearing her gown covered by a lightweight robe. Her hard nipples were like love beacons calling out his name. He swallowed hard and tried to keep his mind on her words.

  “Have you ever been to the Sears Tower and the Field Museum?”

  The only tower he could think about was the one growing in his pajama bottoms. “Who’s here?” he asked.

  “Just us. My mother left around seven thirty and my father soon after that. Why?” She sat on the side of the bed. It was the side opposite him. “Have you changed your mind about what you said last night?”

  He thought about it. He used to pride himself on being a Hunter who wasn’t led by his sexual needs. Too many of his brethren used sex like a junkie uses drugs. It was understandable. It was like the classic rock song said, kicks just keep getting harder to find, but sex was a little different because women are different. His body wanted her, but a man was only as good as his word—if Fox had taught him anything, it was that.

  “No, I haven’t changed my mind. I won’t have sex with you in your father’s house.”

  She pulled her legs up on the bed and rolled into him. She kissed his neck. “It’s another hot day. Let’s do it on the deck.”

  He pulled away from her. “You’re not helping.”

  “I’m trying to—the deck is not in the house.”

  Her smile was infectious. He grinned and found himself moving toward her. “No, Nesta, leave!”

  She laughed.

  He jumped out of the bed. “Give me a little time to get a shower and dress. I’ll meet you downstairs.”

  “It’s your loss,” she said over her shoulder, as she pulled off her gown and robe in a single move. She never looked back as her nude body moved slowly down the hall.

  Even after he heard her door close, he couldn’t peel his eyes away from the hallway and the image burned in his mind. “It’s definitely my loss,” he said to himself.

  Ian couldn’t get over how light the traffic was compared to what it would have been like in California.

  “You’ve got to be kidding, this is terrible,” Nesta argued.

  “We’re moving—that’s the difference.”

  “If that’s true, I don’t know if I want to consider UC Davis.”

  A surge of panic swept through him. He looked at her and tried to gauge if her statement was just a throw away or if the traffic would really make that kind of difference. He couldn’t take the chance. “You don’t have to worry about that. I’ll get you a driver.”

  She laughed. “Get out of here! Are you serious?”

  He didn’t know how to answer. Of course he would get her a driver or whatever else she needed, but for a woman trying her best to become independent—was that what she wanted to hear? “Yes, if it would mean having you there.”

  “That’s so sweet.” She thought about it more before adding, “Ian, that’s the sweetest thing any man has ever said to me. You’re making it very hard for me to think about you leaving.”

  He almost said it. He almost told her again to come with him. Ian couldn’t have said why the words got caught in his throat. It was a feeling that he would have frightened her away. She was young: it would have been too much, too soon.

  They came to the more congested city traffic, and she stopped talking to concentrate more on her driving. He never learned if the traffic would make a difference or if the offer of a driver was in any way offensive.

  They had breakfast at Ann Sather's, which was known for its cinnamon rolls. As he watched her eat, he realized he was very turned on by the process. She savored each bite and offered no excuses about the calories, or any of that other nonsense that American women went on and on about when they ate. It was obvious she loved food.

  “Watching you eat could be a porno movie,” he told her.

  She
looked up from her plate with an expression that made him laugh aloud.

  “What?” she asked.

  “You looked like you’d forgotten I was here.”

  “I could never forget you’re anywhere, but taste your cinnamon roll, Ian.”