The West Wind (11 page)

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Authors: Morgan Douglas

BOOK: The West Wind
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“Yes, sir,” Xander replied, right before getting a cheek full of
wet paintbrush.

 

 

The week of Hero’s party eventually arrived and Xander stood on
the porch watching the decorators, planners, and caterers buzzing in and out of
the house as they prepared for the event. A landscaping company had been hired
to clean up the yard. There was no time for the McConnells to do it and get the
immediate renovating done inside in time for the celebration. Watching everyone
rush around reminded Xander of a beehive, and he imagined Rimsky-Korsakov’s
“The Flight of the Bumblebee” playing in the background. His fingers moved
subtly while he pretended to conduct the piece as he leaned against the side of
the house.

 

He smiled to himself as he did. He had never been happier in his
life, though he usually preferred a little more hard work combined with peace
and quiet to the controlled chaos going on around him. At the center of the
storm was Anna DiBenedetto, the Queen Bee directing all her drones. The best
part about her need to be in control of everything was her inattention to the
whereabouts and activities of her daughter. She was simply too busy to keep her
eye on her all the time.  Xander took full advantage of her distraction to
steal quick dances and kisses from Hero. His dad, if he had ever cared beyond
appearances, had given up entirely.

 

“Taking a break?” Zach asked as he walked through the door,
startling Xander from his reverie.

“Ah, sure. I need some fresh air, and some space,” Xander
answered.

“Crazy, isn’t it? When I married your mother it was less excessive
than this. You’re not going to be so lucky.”

“Dad, I don’t know. . .” Xander began, embarrassed to be
discussing that particular future already.

Zach interrupted him with arched eyebrows that said all that
needed to be.

Xander laughed and shrugged. “You’re probably right.”

“My greatest failing,” Zach joked.

“As is your humility.”

“Like son, like father.”

“I think that’s supposed to go the other way around, last I
checked.”

His father grinned and changed the subject. “So where is your
Juliet, anyway? I haven’t seen her all morning.”

“You know, I’d rather think of her as Viola from
Twelfth Night
.
Best friend first, then the woman Duke Orsino married. Survived the ending.”

“You always were practical,” Zach teased.

“It’s your fault. Anyway, I think she’s setting up the guest room
for the girls, since she talked her parents into letting the Coven stay the
night on Saturday.”

“The Coven?” Zach asked with raised eyebrows.

“Uh, long story,” Xander answered.

 

 

Hero was exactly where Xander thought she would be, hanging
curtains she hadn’t had time to hang yet, and rearranging the furniture. At the
moments she had her nose buried in an armful of comforters and sheets fresh out
of the drier. She loved the smell and the warmth of it, even on hot summer days
like this one. With a brief exhalation at the effort, she plopped the entire
armload into a chair and looked around the room. A proud smile slipped across
her face. She was happy with the way the room turned out. Though she had been
leading the work for the interior design for the entire house, this room was
all hers and she had been given full rein to do whatever she wanted.

 

Exhaustion had set in a while ago, but Hero wore a permanent smile
and hummed to herself as she worked. She had learned more in the last few weeks
than she would have in a year of some of her high school classes and her head
reeled with figures, costs, bits and pieces of psychology she never even knew
existed: colors and how they affect temperature, and all of the other endless
details that were part and parcel of the work she was doing. Yet, she’d never
felt as alive as she did now, doing something she now knew for a fact that she
loved doing, and better still, doing it with someone she’d fallen for quickly
and was certain she loved.

 

As Hero made the bed she let her mind wander into a fantasy of a
future in which she and Xander ran his father’s company together while she ran
a well-controlled, skilled group of interior designers in high demand
throughout Southern California. She would be less controlling than her mother
was, of course. People needed some freedom in order to do their best work. She
pictured herself working late beside the love of her life, cuddled up over some
plans on the couch in the library. She tucked hospital corners into the sheets
and thought about what it would be like to be happily nestled against his chest
with glasses of red wine resting on the coffee table.

 

The side of her mouth quirked up at the image. Often she caught
herself admiring the way his muscles moved beneath his shirt, or the curve of
forearm as he gripped a pencil to mark something on a blueprint. She was so
conscious of him and his movement that it amazed her how relaxed and
unconscious that movement was. His strength was fluid, firm, and quick. Dancing
must be the perfect balance for the daily effort he put himself through. When
he stretched, she would catch herself imagining her hands exploring the muscles
of his back or rising and falling with his breath, a hand against his taut
chest. Her fantasies often took her back to the feeling of that first kiss,
though they usually took place in a somewhat drier environment.

 

She finished smoothing out the last wrinkle in the comforter and
settled the decorative pillows into place at the head of the bed. The paintings
she had ordered for the room hadn’t arrived yet, but as she looked around with
her hands resting on her hips, she was satisfied. It was almost perfect.
Such
good work deserves a reward,
she thought to herself. With their first kiss
still on her mind she went to look for Xander.

 

 

Hero found Xander talking to Jaimie in the foyer.

“Hey, guys,” she greeted them, coming up to stand beside Xander
and slipping her fingers into his while she leaned against him and rested her
other hand on his bicep.

“Hey!” he welcomed her happily.

“There you are,” Jaimie said. “Do you know how hard it is to get a
simple answer out of this boy?” she asked rhetorically, gesturing with
irritation at Xander.

“I told you where she was,” Xander responded, his brow furrowed.

“In the back somewhere doesn’t help me find the guest bedroom,”
she pointed out.

Hero laughed. “Well, I’m here now,” she said to save Xander from
being raked over the coals any further. “What’s up?”

“You and I have a date with the mall,” Jaimie said, taking Hero’s
left arm in both hands and peeling her off Xander.

“We do?” Hero asked, not remembering any such thing. Her fingers
lingered against Xander’s until Jaimie had pulled her too far away for her to
maintain contact.

“You didn’t think you were going to just wear some dress that’s
been in your closet for years, did you?”

“No, but. . .” Hero began.

“I already asked your mom. Here, she gave me her credit card for
you,” Jaimie said, pushing the small plastic rectangle into Hero’s hand.

Xander, who had been observing them with an amused grin across
half his face, laughed. “Have fun, I’ll see you later,” he said with a twinkle
in his eye as he smiled at Hero. He stared deep into her eyes as if Jaimie
wasn’t in the room.

“Ok, bye!” Hero said as Jaimie dragged her outside, barely giving
her time to grab her purse.

“Are you two having sex?” Jaimie hissed as soon as the front door
had closed behind them.

“What?” Hero asked, honestly confused.

“Sex. Two people. No clothes,” Jaimie reminded her as they walked
toward Jaimie’s car, a metallic green Volkswagen Beetle with a Roxy Heart and
hibiscus decal in the rear windshield.

“No, we’ve barely been alone with each other for a minute since I
got grounded.”

“You two need to go take a cold shower or something, then. And not
together!”

“What are you talking about?” Hero demanded.

“Being around you two is so intense I’m afraid you’re either going
to go up in flames or send lightning bolts shooting from your eyes.”

“I really have no idea what you’re going on about.” Hero’s eyes
wandered, absentmindedly looking back toward the house for Xander.

Jaimie grabbed her friend and forced her to look her in the eye.
“When was the last time you thought about kissing him?” she asked.

“Umm. . .” Hero said, blushing a bit.

“How about more than kissing him?”

Hero’s blush turned bright red.

“THAT’s what I’m talking about. You need to calm down. It’s
visible. Literally. You two look like you’re about to eat each other.”

Hero laughed. “Eat each other?”

“Like love-zombies,” Jaimie said, turning her nose up in the air
as she opened the driver’s side door and stood inside it, talking over the roof
of her car.

Hero burst out laughing. “Well, we can’t have that, can we?” she
joked as she got in the passenger’s side.

“No, you’ll probably start a love-zombie apocalypse or something.”

“Evan definitely has you watching the wrong movies, Jaimie.”

“Who says we actually watch them?” Jaimie said wickedly, starting
the car.

“Are YOU having sex?” Hero asked in disbelief as music blared from
the speakers.

“What?” Jaimie looked shocked. “Hero DiBenedetto, that’s none of
your business!”

“Jaimie!”

 

 

Zach and Xander sat in the two large leather reading chairs in the
Brighton House library later that evening, staring at a fire crackling in the
fireplace. It made the space too warm, but set off the atmosphere perfectly.
The only other light came from a chandelier high above set with dim LEDs that
gave the impression the room was lit by a full moon. The clock on the mantle
read after 10 pm and they were both exhausted. With Hero’s party preparations
in full swing, they hadn’t had time for anything else for the last couple days.
As they started to relax both exhaled in a mutual sigh of content relief.

 

“That’s a lot of work for a birthday party,” Zach said. “Are you
sure you want to marry this girl? The wedding preparations might give you a
heart attack. If not the preparations, your mother-in-law will. Marry Jessica,
at least you’ll survive to see your wedding night.”

Xander coughed. “No one said anything about marriage, Dad.”

Zach raised an amused eyebrow that reinforced exactly how
unconvinced he was. “So you don’t think Hero is the one?”

“Ah, no, I didn’t say that either.”

 

Silence filled the room, broken only by the pop and crackle of the
fire. Zach smiled to himself, knowing perfectly well what was on Xander’s mind.
Xander weighed his father’s words. Marriage was something he had always planned
on, but wasn’t in a hurry to do. With his parents as examples, he couldn’t
imagine not getting married someday. He always assumed it would take him years
to meet the right person, however. He hadn’t anticipated Hero.

 

The thought of her brought a wide upward turn to the corners of
Xander’s mouth. Though they hadn’t really known each other that long, he did
find himself thinking of her as ‘The One’. Somehow everything that happened had
helped to cement that feeling. Working together was a different way of getting
to know someone, but somehow he only felt more drawn to her because of it. It
seemed that the online articles he’d read about where to look for a partner
were right: get out and do an activity you love, and maybe you’ll find love. Of
course, preparing the house had shown them how well they meshed off the dance
floor as well. He smiled again, then his smile turned into a wicked, playful
grin as he remembered running her into the wall during their paint fight. It
was hard to think of a part of his life that wasn’t enriched by her presence in
it. His father’s voice interrupted his thoughts.

 

“Careful, you don’t want to strain something in there. You might
need it later,” Zach teased.

“Reprising your role as Nick Bottom?” Xander asked, referring to a
character Zach had played in a community theatre production of
Midsummer
Night’s Dream
when they lived in Seattle. The character spent most of the
play with the head of a donkey.

“My son has been too well taught, methinks,” Zach replied.

“Aren’t you always saying, ‘Be careful what you wish for?”

“Et tu, Brute?” Zach said with wide, sad eyes.

Xander wasn’t buying it, but wasn’t in the mood for further
banter. “So, what do
you
think of Hero?” he asked his father seriously.

“She walks in beauty, like the night. . .” Zach began, his voice
sonorous, but Xander cut him off.

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