Broken Heart 04 Wait till Your Vampire Gets Home (15 page)

I held within me the soul of a creature so rare that not even a goddess knew much about it.

With these thoughts circling, I followed Ralph into his home. I felt the cold concrete even through the thick socks. Good thing it hadn’t snowed, though I could still feel that possibility in the whipping wind. I had no idea what I was going to do about shoes and clothes. I had bigger worries, though. Dragon attacks. PRIS rescue. Missing parents.

Ralph flipped on the lights. “I’ll shower first. While you’re taking one, I’ll make you something to eat.”

“Okeydokey.” I yawned as I took off my coat and hung it on the hall tree in the foyer. When I looked at Ralph, I saw his eyes on my breasts, which were trying to pop out of the buttoned pajama top. My nipples were saying hello, mainly because it was so chilly in the house. But then they tightened and tingled because of Ralph’s attention.

“I’ll . . . uh, go take that shower now.” Ralph turned and hurried down the hall.

I wasn’t sure if I felt complimented or insulted.

I don’t know what little devil made me follow him. But I was surprised when Ralph headed toward the toddlers’ bedroom. He flicked on the light and went to sit on the bed nearest the door. He picked up the teddy bear and stroked its tiny head.

I tiptoed to the doorway and peeked around the frame to watch him. He was in so much pain. I felt badly for him, for all the vampire parents. Raising children was difficult enough when you were alive. I couldn’t imagine how hard it was if you were undead.

“Sometimes,” he said, looking up at me (I really should work on being more sneaky), “I think it would be best if the boys lived with their grandparents. If they lived with Maura and Harold, they’d have a more normal life—one lived in the sun. And they’d have everything they could ever want.”

“Money doesn’t buy love,” I said softly. “And no amount of trinkets could replace you, Ralph. You’re their father.”

“Yeah,” he said. “I miss them. I think it’s time they came home.”

He stood up and, for a moment, we just looked at each other. Then he broke eye contact, and whatever moment had been building between us was broken.

Ralph went to take his shower, and I went to the kitchen. I sat at the table, laying my head on its smooth surface. I’d barely closed my eyes when I felt Ralph tap my shoulder.

“That was fast,” I said, scooting away from the table.

“I also hold the world speed record for showering.” He grinned at me and winked. Oompa! Sexy, sexy man. It didn’t help that he’d only slipped on a pair of pajama bottoms. Yowzer. I really wanted to run my fingers through the damp curls on his chest.

“Toast okay?”

I pried my gaze off his pectorals. “I’d eat a cooked floor tile at this point.”

He laughed, and I went to the bathroom before I did something stupid, like toss Ralph to the floor and ride him like my new pony.

I didn’t want to think about sex, so I thought about food. Toast wasn’t all that appealing. I still craved meat and now I knew why. The dragon part of me was a carnivore. Would it be satisfied with a vegan lifestyle? I doubted it.

In the bathroom, I started the shower and shed my clothes. God, the water felt so good. I put my palms against the wall and leaned into the spray, letting the near scalding liquid pour over me. I wished it could drain away my betrayal as easily. I needed to tell Ralph what I’d done. Or maybe I should try to sneak in another phone call. Tell Brady to back off.

But what about Mom and Dad?

I felt like something was wrong, but not that they were dead. No. I would know that. They might be stuck in some hole somewhere. Maybe even hurt.

Ralph knocked on the door. “Hey, Libby?”

I turned off the water and peeked around the shower curtain. “Yeah?”

“Patsy called. She said you got a text message from your dad.”

So Patsy was the one holding on to my phone. I missed having my purse. It was like living without one of my arms. “What did it say?”

“Mom says hi. Call soon, pumpkin.”

Was it Dad? Or Brady pretending to be my father? Did it matter? Either way the message meant the same thing: My parents were okay. Oh, God. I nearly slid to the floor I was so relieved. “That’s great. Do you think I can call my parents later?”

“Maybe.” He paused, and I thought he’d walked away. Then he shouted, “Shit! The toast’s burning.”

I laughed as I got out of the shower and grabbed the towel Ralph had left for me. I had plenty of time to make a phone call and stop PRIS from showing up in Broken Heart. I had no idea what my parents had been doing for the last two days, but they’d obviously made it out of town without detection. It probably helped that Patsy and everyone else had been distracted.

I toweled off and redressed in my pajamas. When I opened the bathroom door, I could smell the charred bread. I hurried to the kitchen and found Ralph throwing away the toaster.

“Damned thing never worked right, but Therese would never let me get rid of it.”

“Wedding present?”

He nodded, then he turned toward the counter. I suppose it was easier to get rid of the bedroom furniture, to rid himself of things that held her fragrance, her touch, her memory. But the toaster . . . he hadn’t been able to let go of it. Because she’d wanted to keep it.

“Tell me about Therese.”

Ralph turned and looked at me questioningly; a slice of half-buttered bread was in his hand. “Really?”

I nodded. “What was she like?”

“We met in Vegas in 2003. I was attending a bachelor party, and she was there because her parents were sponsoring some sort of museum opening in the Bellagio.

“I was enamored. She was so beautiful, and she had this wonderful laugh. She was the one who taught me to never make assumptions about people. She was raised in a family that worshipped money, but she never did.” He shook his head, smiling. “Her parents never thought I was good enough for her, but they sure warmed up after the twins were born.”

“Why did you come to Broken Heart?” I asked. “Why come to
Oklahoma
at all?”

“This house. We grew up here, but after my parents died, my sister and I went to live with our aunt and uncle in Tulsa. My sister lived here a while, but got married herself and moved to
Missouri
. Therese fell in love with the place.”

No, she’d fallen in love with Ralph and realized how uncomfortable he would’ve been in her world. So she’d settled into his. I liked her, this woman who’d found joy with the man who loved her, and not with what he could give her.

“The happiest times of my life were with her,” said Ralph. “When she died, it felt like part of me had died, too. But I had the boys. I had to be there for them.”

He stared at the floor, and I stayed quiet. I had seen my parents in this type of marital ritual. Dad was the listener, my mother the talker. Even so, I understood now those long silences during their conversations. It wasn’t really silence, it was patience and love. I think love involved a lot of waiting—waiting for your partner to talk or to kiss you or to come home.

And so I waited.

He sighed, and I knew he felt the weight of the world on his shoulders. “We had such a short amount of time together. She died in 2006. Michael and Stephen had just turned a year old. I talk about her to the boys all the time. I don’t want them to forget her.”

If I wasn’t already head over heels for Ralph, I would’ve tipped over the edge right then. Yeah, yeah, I know. He was the Chachi to my Joanie, okay?

“Are you going to get the twins and bring them home? I haven’t played Chutes and Ladders in a long time.”

He chuckled. “They’re a little too young for that one. When they do come home, how about a rousing game of Blue’s Clues?”

“Deal.”

It seemed kind of silly to make those promises. We didn’t know what life was going to be like. I had no intention of living in Broken Heart. I mean, why would I? My heart stuttered. The
numero uno
reason stood near the counter buttering bread for toast I wasn’t gonna eat.

I crossed the kitchen, and Ralph dropped the bread. His gaze was on mine. I wanted him, and he wanted me. There was no fire working mojo on our emotions. It was just us. I took Ralph’s hands, which were rough and calloused. Working man’s hands. I kissed each knuckle. Then I opened his fingers up and turned his hands over. I pressed my lips to the center of each palm.

Wordlessly, Ralph led me into his bedroom and shut the door behind him. A single lamp barely penetrated the darkness of the room. But I didn’t need to see everything. Just him.

Before I knew it, we’d tumbled onto the bed. He rolled me into his arms and looked down at me.

“You really are special to me, Libby.” Ralph cradled my face.

“I’m feeling mushy about you, too,” I said. Oh yeah, I was definitely having a mondo attack of the warm fuzzies.

I dared to slip inside his pajama bottoms and was rewarded with his bare buttocks. I cupped his tight ass, and he groaned, rubbing his cock against me.

“We can’t,” he whispered, unbuttoning my top. “We can’t.”

“We can.” I pried one of my hands between us and dipped inside the silky pants to touch his shaft. He felt velvet-smooth, and hard. I had never had the pleasure of touching a man’s penis before. I was nearly delirious with the idea of what he would feel like inside me.

Ralph’s lips discovered my breasts. He laved one nipple into hardness, and then suckled it. Sensations rolled through me, a thousand fabulous zips and zaps. His lips clamped around my other nipple, while his fingers rolled the wet peak.

Oh! Oh! Oh yeah!

I pushed off his pants and tried to wiggle out of mine, but then Ralph did something really moronic.

He scuttled away from me. “Stop, Libby. Please.”

“No way.” I got rid of my pajama bottoms and straddled him.

His gaze was drawn to my nudity, especially the part between my legs. He couldn’t seem to stop himself from touching my curls.

His finger stroked my clit.

“Ralph!” I nearly swallowed my tongue.

He snatched his hand away. “Really. Libby. I mean it.”

“Uh-huh.” I rolled his pants down and rubbed my wet heat against his cock. Sparks of pleasure shot into my womb. “It’s never been like this for me. Can’t we finish?”

His hands clamped my hips, forcing me to stop. I looked at him, my heart thudding. His expression was pure torment.

“You don’t understand,” said Ralph. “If we make love, we’ll be bound.”

“Okay.” I twitched my hips.

He groaned, his eyes closing briefly. “For a hundred years.”

“Sounds good.” I held on to his hands and leaned forward. “Now, let’s go.”

“Oh, God.” He gritted his teeth, and once again stalled my movements. “Libby, if we make love, we’ll be married. For a hundred years.”

His tone got through the haze of my lust before his words did. I worried my lower lip as I thought about what he said. “You mean, if we have sex, we’re mated?”

Hadn’t Stanley said that Patrick and Jessica were bound? The fate of one depended on the fate of the other. If Patrick died, so would she. That was a tad more commitment than a plain ol’ human marriage.

I sighed woefully. “I suppose it’s too early in the relationship to get hitched for a century.”

“Hey, now. We could . . .” He trailed off, and I looked at him, hope renewed. He shook his head. “This is all happening too fast.”

I wasn’t a hussy, although I really wanted to be
his
hussy. His reluctance, however justified, was putting a dent in my self-esteem.

“No one’s wanted me before, and you do,” I said, as if offering my virginity would persuade him to rock my world.

“No one’s wanted you?” He gently lifted me off and slid out from underneath me. “I’ve wanted you since the second I met you.”

I noticed Ralph’s fangs were extended. Stimulating a vampire’s hunger could be a dangerous thing. I put a hand to my throat and gulped.

“I want to make love to you,” said Ralph, “even though we can’t completely bind.”

“Okay,” I said, lust blooming in my core. “Okay.”

Ralph’s gaze slid over every inch of my skin. I returned the favor. He was lean and muscled, with curly brown hair on his chest and legs. I gripped his shaft, my fingers stroking the velvety skin.

He groaned, his hand stalling mine. “It’s been a long time. We better go slow.”

I released him, unsure of what to do next. I needn’t have worried. Ralph knew exactly what to do.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured. “Let me touch you.”

Ralph’s fingers danced on my bare skin. He left no place unexplored, and every feathery touch made me want more.

He skimmed the underside of my breasts, teasing my areolae. He suckled one nipple, letting go to blow softly on the crinkled flesh until the peak tightened even more. He did the same to my other nipple. Sensations rippled and my belly quivered.

Desire liquefied me. I stroked his rib cage, my fingers running through the hair on his chest. Then I found
his
nipples. I rubbed them to hardness, then lightly twisted.