The Ring Bearer (12 page)

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Authors: Felicia Jedlicka

BOOK: The Ring Bearer
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Daniel glanced at Heaton and offered him a smirk. “Tell me about what Frederique said to you.”

“Yeah,” Heaton stood and smirked back at him as he came around to Nevia’s other side. “She said your mother was a half breed. Does that mean she was half werewolf, half human?”

Nevia looked between them, but didn’t answer. Daniel closed ranks on her left flank. “So grandma got it on with a werewolf.” She glared at that remark, but didn’t respond.

“So you’re technically one quarter werewolf,” Heaton said leaning against the stove. “That’s where you get the sense of smell.”

“My olfactory abilities
exceed
even werewolves,” Nevia snapped defensively.

“What else do you do?” Daniel looked her body up and down. “Do you howl at the moon?” Nevia ignored the jibe and stared out into the living room as they continued their mockery.

“Are your fingernails as hard as nails?” Heaton asked.

“Do you have to wax your back?” Daniel asked with a scrunched up face of sympathy.

“You don’t run well for werewolf,” Heaton pointed out.

“And you’re kind of scrawny,” Daniel added pinching her slender biceps.

“Yes, but I am still armed.” Nevia pulled her pistol from its holster under her arm.

“Oh, that’s right,” Heaton said drawing himself back. “I keep forgetting there’s a reason we don’t tease you.”

Daniel looked over the gun in her hand. He wanted to make a comment about the gun only making her more attractive to him, but he needed to not get into all that again. She had cut him deep with her accusations, and if only to prove to her he could, he wanted to make it through the rest of this trip without acting on his baser instincts.

“Was that a yes or no on cheese?” he asked not being able to hide his smile of admiration.

“I can make them,” she said suddenly holstering her gun like she was rude not to have offered already. She liked to help, and normally he would have loved to have a woman prepare food for him, but she was already a cute gun toting demi-wolf. If she added kitchen skills to that list he was liable to drag her home and introduce her to his mother.

She reached for the bread and he grabbed her hand and pulled it away. “I can handle sandwiches, but if you want you can get Heaton a beer.” Nevia pulled her hand back, and he squeezed it before letting go. He probably
did
need an intervention. He was stuck in an endless circle of attraction, friction, and dissatisfaction, with the only woman he had ever slept with twice and he was addicted to it.

Nevia pulled three beers out of the fridge. She popped the top off one and offered it to Daniel as he prepared the sandwiches. He shook his head. “I better stick to water.” She held it out a second longer as if she expected him to change his mind. As she drew it back she looked like she might say something, but let it drop.

She opened the second beer after returning the third, and sat down next to Heaton. She pulled her gun from its holster, removed the clip, released the loaded bullet and kissed it before tucking it in her bra. Daniel glanced at Heaton, but he was guzzling his beer and had missed the action.

“Why do you do that?” he asked concentrating on his sandwich preparation. He only glanced up to let her know he was talking to her.

“I don’t like keeping a loaded gun in the house.”

“Yeah, but why do you kiss the bullet? Is it a good luck thing?” He topped the three sandwiches with bread, and grabbed plates from the cupboard. When she didn’t answer, he looked over to her. She was watching him like he was a television chef worthy of teaching her something. He plated the uber sandwiches and took them over. “I was just curious. You don’t have to tell me.” He added when he realized her reticence might have been because it was personal.

She twisted her beer on the counter contemplating telling him. “I do it when I’ve had a bullet in the chamber. I don’t like to pre-load my gun. It offers room for error. I only cock my gun when I suspect I might have to use it.” Daniel and Heaton waited for her to fiddle with her plate before continuing. “If I load the bullet and I don’t have to use it, then that’s a good thing. I kiss it in thanks and place it next to my heart.” She shrugged. “Nobody really wants to shoot if they don’t have to.”

Daniel cleared his throat. “So, you thank the bullet?” he asked tepidly.

Heaton reached over and flicked his ear. He yelped and looked to him in question of the assault. “She thanks God, you twit.”

“Oh, right.” Daniel caught her eye, but she looked away. She took a moment’s pause before eating her sandwich, a quick silent prayer. Suddenly the pieces of her contradictory behaviors made sense to him. Though his religious nature was only a cliff note in his life, for her it was integral to knowing her motives.

He took a bite of his sandwich and glanced at Heaton. He must have sensed the epiphany, because he chomped down his sandwich and drank his beer in record time. When he was finished and had offered a healthy burp, he announced that he would need to find Danato to fill him in, lest the paperwork for a bruised fem-wolf come through before he had a chance to explain the self-defense.

Daniel stared down at his half eaten sandwich. It didn’t hold the answers to anything, but it kept his eyes from wandering. He couldn’t help but think about what Heaton had said. He wondered if his misery and conflicting feelings, were just the ingredients to love. He wasn’t sure he was capable of that. Even if he was, the list of differences between him and Nevia had just gotten even longer.

Then there was the small matter of last night, in which he basically told her he never wanted to sleep with her again, which wasn’t true of course. He had been mad at her last night. This morning he was mad at himself. Now coming around to the afternoon, he was right back where he started. He wanted her so bad he could hardly keep from grabbing her at any given moment. However, he resented her for trying to make him something he didn’t want to be, ie: a better person.

Somewhere in that twist of emotions, he found room to respect her as well. As a self-professed womanizer that was new. He had never respected a woman he had slept with before, at least not after sleeping with them. It had nothing to do with the sex, but he did put women into two categories, those willing to sleep with him and those not. He generally felt the women who didn’t sleep with him to be the wiser of the two.

So perhaps it
was
about the sex.

Or he really was a sociopath.

Daniel looked to Nevia. She was chewing the last bit of her sandwich. She had hardly touched her beer. He really did want to be that guy for her, but…

“I’m sorry I was such an arse last night,” he blurted out when he found the courage to break the silence. She looked up at him waiting for more. “Well, not just last night, but…always.”

“You’re not always an ass, Daniel,” she said with her mouth partially full. She sipped on her beer to get the rest of her food down.

“You were right to push me. I really needed to heal Heaton. I owed him that and then some.”

Nevia tipped her head. “Is that it then? You’ve healed Heaton and now you can go back to normal.” Daniel sighed and pushed his sandwich away. He was hoping to avoid a fight, but apparently his apology just opened a door to more pestering. “I’m sorry,” she amended herself and tossed her hands up in surrender. “That’s not fair. You can’t decide your life based on my expectations. I’m pushing because I see what could be, but just because it could be, doesn’t mean it needs to be.”

“Not everyone is cut out to be a superhero,” he added.

She smiled and nodded. “I shouldn’t have called you all those things. That was a low blow. I don’t think of you like that.”

“No, but it is how I think of myself, so maybe it was worth pointing out.”

Nevia shook her head. “How do you come off so confident, even when you hate yourself so much?”

“Practice.” They fell into silence again and Nevia pushed off her stool.

“I’m going to head upstairs. Come get me if you need anything.” Daniel tried not to think about what he needed from her. If she could smell his attraction, then she already knew. It was
want
by any definition, but it had grown into
need
when his fantasies started interfering with his life.

He wondered if it wasn’t time to be bold again.

 

 

 

 

18

Daniel slipped through Nevia’s open door. She was putting away her gun, when she sensed him. She snapped up and looked at him like she was concerned he had come there to attack her. He shut the door and leaned against it so he had as much distance as possible between them, but he also made it clear that retreat was not an option.

“What is it, Daniel?” she asked not hiding her irritation.

“Who was the religious fanatic, your father or your mother?” He asked.

“What?” She said reaching for nothing in particular at her neck line.

“I’m just trying to put together your family history. Your grandfather was a werewolf. He had a half-breed daughter, your mother. I imagine your father didn’t know about this until much later. He probably thought that by being an avid Christian he might be able to keep the “curse” from you.” Nevia took it all in, like the story he was telling was someone else’s.

“It must have been hard growing up in your house. I’m sure the tattoo and the belly piercing was your way of rebelling. Your hair, your clothes, reflections of a disciplined life. I bet you joined the FBI just to spite him. He probably wanted you to be a teacher or something.”

Daniel started to approach her. “I was just another rebellion. You probably worked hard in college, stayed out of trouble, but when it was all over and you had no prospects for a husband, the burden of waiting until you were married to experience sex probably seemed unreasonable.”

Daniel stopped in front of her. He could see her breathing had increased since he started talking. He was close enough to touch her, but he made sure he didn’t. He wasn’t going to push that hard. He needed an invitation. “Am I on the right track?”

“My father found the piercing when I was seventeen. He misinterpreted it as a sexual allure. He threatened to cut off all my hair, to diminish my appeal and help me keep myself pure. I shaved my hair off the same day.

“They were both actually very proud of my career path. I got the tattoo in college. I did quite a few drugs in college, but yes, I focused on my studies. I didn’t have any prospects for a husband, and after I got transferred here…”

“You figured you were even farther from that goal than before.” He stepped closer to her. The space between them, offered only enough room to stand. When she took in a deep breath her breasts touched him. “Are you sure you’re done rebelling with me?”

Her eyes flickered over his, and she swallowed hard. “I told you I’m not a one night stand kind of girl.”

“I didn’t stop this at one night. You did. I insisted on the second night. You know I’ve wanted you since this began.”

“I can’t be part of your harem.”

“I have a history, but I don’t have a harem. All I want is you.”

“I know, the table, the couch, the bed.”

“Yes, and your pushy encouragement, your drunken cockiness, your bad cooking, your great aim, your dead on sniffer, your little prayers before you eat anything, and any other facet of your personality I haven’t met yet. I want all that, in my bed, in my arms, and at my side.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“Then read me deeper.” Daniel opened his shirt for her to get a good whiff of whatever she needed to determine if he was deceiving her. He couldn’t blame her for doubting him. His personality flaws had been served up on a platter since the day they met. The sudden change in menu must have really been throwing her for a loop.

She drew her face across his chest. Midway she stopped and placed her forehead against his chest. “You have to understand, Daniel. I have no idea how to be in a relationship. You’re the only man I’ve ever been with.”

He leaned down and murmured in her ear. “Neither do I, but I’m pretty sure we can figure it out. As far as me being your only lover, I hope you don’t mind, but I’m planning to keep it that way.”

She looked up at him. Her fingers curled on his chest, clawing him as she ran her hands down to his pants and undid them. All the while she kept his eyes pinned with hers. As she reached within to jump start him, he grabbed the back of her neck and rested his forehead on hers. “I love that you aren’t shy.” Even as he said it, he could feel her trembling. “Aren’t you going to kiss, me?”

She looked up at him, like he had just asked her to do what she had already volunteered to do. She seemed more nervous about the kissing than the sex. He smiled and pulled her hand from his pants. “What do you say we start off at first base for a change?”

He sat down on her bed and pulled her into his lap. She looked everywhere, but at him for a second. When she finally let him draw her into a kiss, she was tentative like she was questioning if she was doing it right. Like all unpracticed kissers, with time she loosened up and let her mouth explorer his lips freely. Before long, she was trying to push him back to get more than his lips.

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