Pink Princess Fairytini (Fairy Files #2) (24 page)

“Good. I’ll see you there.”

Frost hung up about the same time I did. “Got another missing kid,” he said. “I’m heading over to talk to the parents in an hour, but I thought we should drop in on Knuff and ask him about the shadows being passed down the line.”

“Shit,” I said. “I’ve just made plans for lunch with Harvey.”

“That’s good, you should go. You two need to make time for each other.”

“But the missing kid.”

“No, I got it. Can you come with me to talk to Knuff?”

“I think he’s the wrong one to ask. We should go see Brace.”

“Yeah, I heard of it,” Brace said. He was lounging on the couch in my condo, looking like he’d just woken up, wearing only boxers and a sleepy half-smile. “Some folks say that’s what happened to me, that shadows had twisted my family line. Pretty much any kid who had strange or extra-strong powers could claim an ancestor who’d been twisted by shadows. The problem with me was I didn’t have traits of any of the fae in Rubalia and no family history.”

“So the fae keep records of ancestors twisted by shadows, but no records of the war?”

He shrugged. “It’s not records exactly, more like an oral history passed down. I never believed it, to be honest.”

“Why not?” I asked.

“People change, they do stupid shit, that’s life. Blaming it on the shadows was just an excuse. No one wants to admit they made a bad choice or became an asshole of their own free will.”

“So you don’t believe the shadows can twist people?” Frost asked.

“I’ve never seen it happen,” Brace said. “But even it does, there’s no way in hell it happened to all the people claiming it. It’s an excuse to give in to their less ethical inclinations.”

“Do you?” I asked, hoping I wasn’t crossing a line. “Give in to your less ethical inclinations?”

His smile widened. “If I did, Sandra’s entire human family would be buried in a shallow grave.”

The way he said it gave me chills, and I fought the urge to ask him if that’s what he’d done to Sandra’s family when he’d driven them out of town.

He laughed. “You should see the look on your faces. Do you think I’m a complete moron? I’ve finally gotten rid of Sandra’s family for a while, I’m not going to risk jail.”

I shook my head. Brace was a cheery, chill guy, but I was certain I never wanted to cross him.

“It’s good to see you, Frangipani,” Harvey said, over BBQ sandwiches at Gray’s Goose. “How’s your case been going?”

I laid everything out for him, trying not to reveal too much of the fae stuff he might not be ready for. Then I told him about my mother and my decision to move in with Frost.

He almost choked on the swallow of sweetened iced tea he’d just taken. He stared at me for a long moment, taking several deep breaths. “I understand that you got upset when I got jealous before,” he said. “But I think anyone would feel a bit upset about you moving in with—”

“A friend?” I asked, ready to get righteously indignant. He had a right to be uncomfortable with the arrangement, but I’d already explained that I didn’t have any other choices.

“A
male
friend,” he said. “I’m not crazy, Chloe. No guy would be okay with this.”

I sighed, ready to concede his point.

“Move in with me,” he said.

It was my turn to choke, but I did so less gracefully, and on my own spit. “No,” I managed to get out, once I’d stopped coughing. “That’s a terrible idea.”

He nodded, his smile small. “I’d agree if you had any other options, but you don’t. We’d be moving in together out of necessity, not because we’re taking our relationship to the next level.”

Resisting the urge to punch him, I stood and left the table, storming out the door and across the street to a small, shaded park. I paced across the green grass and back three times before Harvey jogged up to me.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” I asked before he could say a word. “You barely know me, you’ve barely accepted that I’m not human, and you think you’re ready for the next step?”

“I’ve wanted you for two years, Chloe,” he said, his frustration making his words crackle. “I’m ready for whatever you’re willing to give.”

I sort of lost it then. I kept pacing, but I started muttering to myself about men and how easily they confused lust for love, and attraction for a relationship.

He grabbed my shoulders and stopped me. “I know you, Chloe. I want to know you better.”

I rolled my eyes, but he ignored me and continued. “I admit I was thrown by the fairy thing, but I’m getting used to it. You’re still the same strong, beautiful, brilliant woman I’ve wanted for years. Come live with me until you get things worked out with your mother.”

I threw my hands up and shook my head. “Sapphire is my favorite person in the world and she and I almost killed each other when we first moved in together. Why ruin what we have?”

“You and Sapphire worked it out and so will we. If we’re meant to be together we can make it work.”

“I think this is a terrible idea.”

“Please, Chloe. I hardly get to see you at all, if we lived together we’d have a chance to really get to know each other.”

The pleading and hope in his eyes convinced me I’d be the worst girlfriend ever and living up to all of my mother’s predictions about me if I turned him down. “Fine,” I said. “But I want it noted that I’m opposed to this idea.”

“Agreed.”

“Leaving me already?” Frost asked. He stood in the doorway to his guest room, where I stood by the bed, packing. I was exhausted after a training session with Vin and really just wanted to curl up in bed. “Did your mother give in?”

“Harvey asked me to move in with him,” I said, unable to hide my scowl.

Frost did a horrible job of hiding his smile. “Aren’t you supposed to look happy about it?”

“No,” I said, lugging my suitcase toward the door. “I think it’s a terrible idea.”

“Chloe,” he said, serious. “It doesn’t make you a bad person to say no, and there is not one rule book for relationships. You should do what feels right for you.”

“How did it go with the missing kid?”

He sighed and rubbed a hand over his face. “A ten-year-old boy this time, but otherwise the same as the others. We can talk about it tomorrow. Go enjoy your time with Harvey tonight.”

Always trust your instincts.
–Chloe Frangipani

Never make decisions based on emotion
. –Althea Frangipani

The cab dropped me in front of Harvey’s one-level bungalow an hour later. He lived farther out of the city than I’d remembered, on an established tree-lined street. He was in the cul-de-sac, with forest behind. He might as well be living in the country. I sighed and determined to make the best of the situation. I liked Harvey, I really did, and I needed to make every effort to make it work between us.

Harvey answered the door in a t-shirt, jeans, and bare feet. He looked good casual, deliciously good. I dropped my suitcase and stepped into his arms, deciding to focus on what I knew worked between us. I wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled his face down to mine. He groaned and lifted me, his hands kneading my ass. I wrapped my legs around his waist and he carried me inside and dropped onto the couch with me on his lap.

I was glad I’d chosen to wear a dress, as Harvey pushed it up to my hips, and slid his hand into my panties. I made short work of the button and zipper on his jeans and, in just a moment, he’d slid into me. The feel of him, the motion of our hips like a well-practiced dance, cleared my mind of all thoughts and worries. I stopped wondering what if and lost myself to the moment.

He shoved my dress up to my shoulders and took one of my bare nipples into his mouth. I moaned and arched back, rolling myself against him and finding the friction I needed. “So good,” I murmured. “You feel so good.”

“We’re so good together. I don’t think I’ll ever stop wanting you.” He moved his attention to my other nipple, pushing a hand between us and applying a pressure that, mixed with the pleasure of him inside me and his mouth on me, made me lose it and fly over the edge into a body-tingling release.

He followed me a moment later. “Hello,” he said, once we’d both caught our breath. “If every evening with you starts like this, I may never let you leave.”

The words were spoken lightly, but I tensed in his arms and climbed off him, adjusting my dress as I stood. Harvey went into the bathroom to clean up. I sat down on the couch and saw that the T.V. was on and college football was playing, the volume low enough that I hadn’t noticed it until that moment.

Harvey returned and sat down next to me, turning up the volume on the T.V. “I’ll show you where you can put your stuff as soon as this play is over,” he said. I stared at him, then at the T.V. I found sports boring, and rarely watched T.V., so I pulled out my phone and checked my emails. Nothing from the police or the health inspector saying my club had been cleared and was okay to re-open. But there was a quick note from Pierson saying he and my other employees were spreading the word that the club would reopen and that the mayor’s case was erroneous. I almost missed the last email because his address looked so much like spam: Dmanhard. He said that he and the mayor’s wife were getting married as soon as the divorce was final, and I should look for a save the date in the mail.

“Holy shit,” I breathed. Harvey shot me a look, but returned his attention to the screen so quickly, I knew better than to try to tell him what I’d just seen. Instead, I stood and walked around his small house. The kitsch I’d helped him buy was on the top of the refrigerator and both his furnishings and the few paintings on his wall were mainstream, contemporary. The place was clean, the single bedroom cozy.

“You can put your stuff in the dresser or the closet,” Harvey said, his eyes still on the screen. “I cleared two drawers and half the closet for you.”

I grabbed my bag from the porch, where I’d dropped it in my haste to be in Harvey’s arms, and headed back to the bedroom. There was a large, king-sized bed, with a grey duvet, cherry nightstands on either side of the bed, and an oak dresser. The night stands were large and bulky, the dresser was sleek and modern, and the bed was rustic. It was a hodge-podge of a room and I should be the last person to judge hodge-podge, but it was all so boring. The painting over the bed was of an abstract that wasn’t half bad, but wasn’t half good either. My heart sank a bit as I realized Harvey had no taste. I sighed. I could fix that.

I found the two drawers he’d emptied for me and put my stuff in them, then hung my dresses, slacks, and blouses in the closet. I’d taken a few of the things Hieronymus had bought me. They were too pretty not to and my mother would never know. I put my toiletries in the small en-suite bathroom, stuffing them in next to the toilet paper. Clearly, Harvey had never lived with a woman before, since he hadn’t thought to clear space for me under the sink.

I strolled back to the living room and Harvey smiled up at me. “Did you find a place for everything?” he asked.

I sat down on the couch next to him. “Yes. Thank you for making space for me. Hopefully, this will only be temporary, but—”

The commercial on the television ended and his attention shot back to the screen as the football game started back up. “Sorry, babe, we’ll talk as soon as this is over.”

Now, I’m not one for watching sports, I’m not really much for sitting still long enough to watch much of anything on T.V., but I can be understanding and empathetic. I can sort of see how football could be so thrilling and important that…Nope, not really. Still, I was dependent on Harvey’s hospitality, though I couldn’t help considering throwing a tantrum, re-packing my stuff, and heading back to Frost’s place, because come on, I was asking for five minutes of his time. Five minutes. So, I did the only mature thing I could come up with in my state of annoyance. I grabbed the remote from his hand and turned off the T.V.

The play of emotions over his face was quite something to see. Shock, annoyance, anger, and then something in his expression softened. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m being rude. This is a big moment, you moving in with me, and I should give you my full attention, right?”

The way he took my hand and the soft caring look on his face, scared me. I was so not ready for this level of commitment and intimacy. “You know what,” I said. “I just wanted to thank you for doing me this favor and letting me crash here for a few days.”

Then, before he could say anything else, I flicked the T.V. back on, threw the remote at him, and ran for the kitchen. I opened the door to the refrigerator just to have something to do, but as I bent over and peered inside, seeing deli meat and cheese, fresh strawberries and tomatoes, my stomach growled.

“Now that’s a sight in my kitchen I could get used to,” Harvey said.

I slammed the refrigerator door and spun around. I liked Harvey, I really did, and I thought we were making good progress with our relationship, but I wasn’t ready to be a fixture in anyone’s kitchen. “I shouldn’t have interrupted your game,” I said. “I’m sorry.”

He took two steps closer to me, as though he were approaching a skittish animal. Clearly, he thought I was afraid, but I wasn’t afraid of anything. “No,” he said, in a gentle voice. “You were right. It was rude of me to ignore you. But I’m not ignoring you, now. You must be starving, what can I get you for dinner?”

“I can fix myself a sandwich, Harvey. You can go back to your game.”

He smiled and shook his head. “No. You sit and I’ll make you a sandwich. Please, I want to take care of you.”

That stunned me stupid. No one had ever wanted to take care of me before, at least not when I wasn’t in danger and in need of protection. I took a seat in one of the mismatched chairs around his small, rustic kitchen table. “I guess you’re more familiar with the flea market than I realized,” I said.

“What?” He looked at me over his shoulder the rest of him still in the fridge.

“Never mind,” I said, distracted by the delectable rear view he presented to me. It was too bad relationships couldn’t be just about sex. Sex was easy and so, so much fun.