A Beauty Dark & Deadly (A Dark & Deadly Series Book 1) (16 page)

Forcing herself to continue on, Emmy turned the page.

Chapter
1
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She was halfway through the page when her name from the kitchen caused her to pause.  After tucking the page in the flap of the book jacket, Emmy closed it and sat it on the coffee table.  It wasn’t bad so far.  She would have to continue after breakfast.

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He had felt her lips on his skin.  How could he not?  He knew when she woke up since he had been awake before her.  As an expert at controlling his breathing, he managed to feign slumber well enough to goad her into thinking he was still asleep.  He wanted to have her for a little longer and, as selfish as it sounded, he wanted to see what she would do knowing they had spent the night together.  He was hyperaware of every little thing she did, every breath she took, every touch she either knowingly or unknowingly branded onto his skin.  He wanted to take a picture of every movement, sear them into his mind so he would always remember them.

When her palm trickled up to rest over his heart, he was afraid she might feel it skip and ruin his façade.  He was lucky.  The edge of her fingers had danced dangerously on the edge of his thermal and his skin.  In fact, he could still feel her fingers there, even now, as though she had branded him.  Maybe she had.  She applied a soft sort of pressure against him, and it felt as though she was holding his heart hostage, giving it the air it needed to breathe but the threat of her abandoning it, releasing him to a life of solitude, caused rain clouds to drown it so its beating slowed back down.  The only good thing he could make out of this was the fact that she never pulled away.  She continued to leave it there, reassuring it that for now, while she held onto him, that he was whole.

Her nose continued to breathe in and out, in and out, tickling the light hair just underneath his collarbone.  It caused his insides to run into each other and his fingers, still gripping her waist, itched for the familiarity of a soothing cigarette.  But he wouldn’t give this up for anything.

If he thought he was surprised by her exploration of his body, he was sorely mistaken when she tilted her head up in order to kiss him like a ghost on the corner of his neck, just above where his shoulder and throat joined.  Jason couldn’t stop the goosebumps from springing up all over his body if he tried.  He hoped, if anything, she would assume he was cold, not that he was reacting to her kiss.

Although, if he was being honest, it wasn’t really a kiss.  She didn’t purse her lips with the intent to kiss him, and she didn’t press them against his skin.  It was just her lips brushing his neck and nothing more.  However, he was absolutely certain that she did this on purpose.  Her head tilted up and the contact was made.  She had wanted to almost-kiss him.  Why?  He couldn’t be sure and refused to speculate.  It happened, and that was all that mattered.  He couldn’t contain the sigh if he tried.  In that moment, he was truly content.  He didn’t want to leave just yet.

Since she had tested him out, Jason decided it would only be fair if he attempted to do the same thing.  As such, he turned his head, tightened his grip on her so she was practically on top of him, and buried his face into her hair.  He was suddenly surrounded by cinnamon and vanilla and, at that precise instant, decided that it was his favorite scent and if she continued to smell just so, he would always be content.  The strands tickled his face, and perhaps it was time for a shave, especially now that he had female company.  He should try to look more… put together now, even though they were never going to go to town together and any notion of something romantic happening between them was plain ludicrous.  However, it was nice to have a reason to try to look nice again, even if nice meant a clean pair of sweats and no robe rather than a suit and slicked back hair.

The moment was shattered, just like the glass of wine in the kitchen, after he confronted his wife about her affair, when Rumpel told the seemingly sleeping pair that it was time for him to be let out Jason needed some time to himself, and as such, offered to make breakfast.  Even as the mix of Bisquick, milk, and eggs was frying over the stove, all he could smell was vanilla and cinnamon and that was okay.

When she came back into the kitchen after he informed her that breakfast was served, he noticed that his book was in her hand.

“I hope you don’t mind,” she asked, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear as she took her seat, “but I didn’t really have anything to do, and I was interested in reading it.”

He felt a soft smile play with his features as he took his seat across from her.  He handed her the maple syrup, knowing she would soon be lathering her breakfast in it.  “What do you think so far?” he asked, spreading butter on his own pancakes.  Syrup was too sweet for him.

“Well, I’ve only read the first page,” she said.  As he predicted, Emmy poured a generous amount of the sticky substance on her pancakes.  It baffled him that someone so small could eat as much as she did.  “But it looked…”  She paused, searching for the right word.  For whatever reason, he felt compelled to hold his breath.  When she finished with, “promising,” he couldn’t help but be relieved.

Which was just silly, since it shouldn’t matter what she thought of his writing.  That particular book was published around the time she was born, if not before.  It was written just after he met Stacey actually.

They ate breakfast in relative silence, the only sound of the tapping rain and the soft slobbering of Rumpel as he ate the extra pancakes Jason gave him.  Every now and then, he would catch Emmy looking at him from the corner of her eye, but he couldn’t say why that was.  He didn’t know if he should feel insecure or flattered.  Her face gave nothing away, her eyes as guarded as she could muster.  Maybe someday soon, she would lower the guard, even if it was for a short time, just so he could see her look as vulnerable as she had looked while sleeping.

“Emmy,” he said after swallowing his last bite.  He straightened his shoulders and locked eyes with hers.  “I wanted to ask you your opinion.”

Emmy knitted her brow and pushed her lips together before nodding her head in assent.  She did not speak.

“I was thinking of cutting my hair,” he said, and before he could ask if she thought it was a good idea, her mouth dropped open, her eyes got wide, and she interrupted him with, “No!”

He watched in mild amusement as her face turned pink and her eyes shot down to her plate.  She began to coil a strand of her long hair around her finger, a nervous habit he noticed.  “I just mean,” she said before biting her bottom lip.  He loved when she did that.  He couldn’t explain why, but it looked intoxicatingly innocent and thoroughly seducing at the same time, and he was absolutely positive she had no idea the sort of effect she had on him or anyone else who might witness the duplicitous gesture.  She tilted her head to the side and, surprising him, was able to look him in the eye.  “I like your hair the way it is.  The way it falls into your face.”  She looked away again, this time to watch as she cut up another piece of pancake.  “At least, that’s what I think.  It’s your hair.  You can do whatever you want.”  And with that, she shoved the forkful of food into her mouth so she wouldn’t have to speak anymore.

Which was fine with Jason.  He didn’t need to hear her say anything else.  He had no idea how she did it, but she managed to say exactly what he needed to hear without lying to him or sugarcoating anything.  She never spoke more than she had to and always said what she meant.  If she didn’t know what to say, she remained silent.  He liked that.  He liked that very much.

And, more than that, the fact that she verbally admitted that she liked some sort of attribute of his, even if it was merely physical – especially if it was merely physical – made his contentment transform into a raindrop of glee.  He would not cut it then, not if she liked it as much as she seemed to. 

Another clap of thunder startled Emmy, causing her to nearly choke on her food.

“You live in Frisco,” Jason pointed out.  “Shouldn’t you be used to thunderstorms by now?”

“Actually, I lived in Fountain Valley my whole life,” she corrected.  “I came up to San Fran a couple of years ago when I found out my grandfather was having trouble paying his medical bills.  So no, I’m still not used to this weather.”

“It’s why you took the job,” he murmured as he watched the pieces tumble into place.

“What?”

“Your grandfather.”

“Oh.”  A pause.  “Well, yes.  I was going to college down at San Francisco State, living with him while I did so.  He had his retirement, but I worked two jobs to be able to contribute.  He won’t let me actually give him the money.  He’s too prideful for that.  I just grab the bills before he has a chance to get to them and pay them before or after class.”

“And now?”

“It just got to be too much.”  Her voice had grown softer as more emotion touched her tone.  “His leg, which he injured in World War II, still bothers him, and he has to take various medication…  I couldn’t do it anymore, and I don’t want him to have to use all of his savings on medicine when he’s saving up for a boat.”  A transparent smile.  “He loves sailing.  It was one of the reasons he came up here.  The weather and the sailing.  So I decided to take a semester off and come work for you, which would have me make more money than my two jobs combined.”

“Are you almost finished with school?”

“This would have been my senior year.”

Jason took a bite of his food even though he wasn’t hungry anymore.  It gave him an excuse to remain silent as he took in her words.  He had no idea what it was like to be in her position.  He had come from a well-off family who supported him and his crazy dream of writing.  He had no idea what it was like to sacrifice a higher education in order to take care of a family member.  She was much more mature than her young years would otherwise suggest, and while that made him admire her all the more, it made him a bit sad that she wasn’t out partying, stressing out over finals, and falling in love with the wrong guys.  Guys, he knew, could never deserve her. 

“You should call him,” he suggested after he swallowed his food.  “Your grandfather.”

“You think so?”

“Tahoe storms always get worse before they get better.  I’m not sure how long this one is going to last either.  I just want to make sure you get to talk to him in case the power gets cut and the storm lasts for a few days.”  He offered her a smile.  “Go ahead.  I’ll take care of the dishes.”

“Thank you,” she said as she stood up.  He knew she meant it.

Jason gave any leftovers to Rumpel and proceeded to hand-wash the dishes.  He heard Emmy, his book tucked firmly under her arm, pad into the living room, lift the phone receiver, and call her grandfather.  The minute he heard her start to speak, he turned off the faucet in order to listen to their conversation.  It was wrong, he knew, to eavesdrop, but he couldn’t help but be curious.

The rough side of the sponge scrubbed at the syrup Emmy left on her plate, but Jason’s head was cocked at an angle that best allowed him to hear her voice.  Already he could detect an unfamiliar genuine happiness when talking to her grandfather.  It was a tone he had never heard while speaking to him, and while he couldn’t exactly blame her for it, he hoped one day perhaps she might grant him the honor of allowing him to make her happy.

“Hi, Papa.  It’s me.”

A pause.  More scrubbing.

“Yeah, I’m okay.  It’s raining, though.  Jason says the power might go out so I just wanted to call you and let you know I’m okay, just in case the storm lasts for a few days.”

Another break in conversation.  Jason finally looked down at the plate and found that he was scrubbing something that was already clean.  He put it just off to the side of the sink so it would be ready when it was time to dry it.  Picking up his plate, he realized there wasn’t much to clean, but his fingers needed a task if his mind was consumed with Emmy’s discussion.

“Jason’s good.”  A beat.  “He’s different.”

Another pause, and Jason knew that her grandfather was asking her what she meant by that, of that was a good thing or a bad thing.  He sucked in a breath and stopped his pointless ministrations so he wouldn’t mishear her response.

“In a good way.  I didn’t expect him to be so…  Well, I’m not sure what I expected, but it wasn’t this.”  Another beat.  “He surprises me, Papa.  Yes, in a good way.  I didn’t expect it, but I’m glad.  He’s not as bad as everyone makes him out to be.”  A pause.  “I will, but I don’t think anything like that’s going to happen.  I just…  I don’t know.  It’s just this feeling I get.”  He could hear his heart ring in the silence.  “I’m always safe, Papa, but I don’t think I have to worry.  You don’t have to worry either.”