I pick up a wooden spoon and stir the spaghetti sauce. If I had neighbors, they would have heard me, too. “Oh. Yeah…I…uh…”
“You’re free to do as you wish, Ace,” he says, almost bitterly. His eyes flash and he looks me up and down for a brief moment before looking away. Is that jealousy I’m sensing? “Though you should probably focus more on resting and taking care of yourself before you run off and have fun.” His eyes drill into mine again, so intense I lean away.
Yes, that most definitely is jealousy. Is it terrible I like it? He’d only be jealous if he had feelings for me, just like the feelings I have for him. I shift my weight, uncomfortable. The others are fine with our arrangement…but what about Jacques? Because right now he’s looking at me as if he wants to own me.
“Right, I, uh…” I’m floundering, feeling heat rush to my cheeks. “I, uh…I don’t like being lonely,” I blurt. God, how stupid did that sound?
Jacques’s face softens. “I don’t either,” he says quietly, and takes a tentative step toward me. My heart is in my throat, and I’m back to fighting the urge to fling my arms around him, to feel my heart beat against his and find out what his lips feel like against mine for real.
“I don’t think it’s stupid to question if you’re doing the right or wrong thing,” he says, taking the conversation in a totally different direction. I whirl back around to look at him. “I know you want to do the right thing. You and I…we’re alike in that aspect. And sometimes the right thing doesn’t seem like the best thing to do. Sometimes the right thing feels wrong.”
“That’s exactly how I feel right now.” I swallow hard, eyes trailing down Jacques’s muscular torso. “It’s making me question everything. Before, I knew I was doing the right thing. It might take a while to get results, but I knew I was making the world a better place.”
“And now?”
“Now I’m not sure. I mean, yeah, I get it. I’m trying to get rid of the vampires. But it doesn’t feel like enough. I’m not giving my full attention to my job, and I feel really shitty about it.” I haven’t fully confessed it to myself yet. “I don’t know.” I shake my head and turn back to the sauce.
Jacques moves with such grace for someone his size. The energy around him is overwhelming, but not in a bad way. It surrounds me, fills me, makes me have to fight even harder to keep myself from turning and throwing my arms around his neck.
“Isn’t that what life is about?” His voice is low. “Doing the right thing…making the world a bit more livable, if not for yourself, then for others. I gave up my life in order to serve others and I still questioned if I did the right thing joining the Templars.”
“I thought you believed in their mission?”
“I did, but I was naive when I joined and thought everyone else did, too.”
“Oh, right. They kind of turned into money-grubbers, right?”
“Yes. I actually understand that saying.” His serious face lights up for a second.
“Thanks, I needed to hear that.” I reach for his hand. My fingers graze his skin and he flips his hand over, lacing his fingers through mine. My heart skips a beat and suddenly the dream comes to life, playing out before me in a flash and it’s like I remember everything.
The way his lips taste. The smooth feel of his hard cock in my hand. His gruff voice whispering something in my ear in a language I don’t know. But most of all, the painful longing in my heart.
Jacques yanks his hand back. This time I know for certain he saw it too. Stepping away, he looks at the ground, chest rapidly rising and falling as he sucks in air.
“I’ll tell the others you’re making dinner.”
“Wait.”
He turns, wings swooping past me and creating a draft strong enough to nearly blow out the fire on the stove.
“Yes?”
I rush forward, stopping inches from him. Slowly, I run my eyes up and down his body, taking in every inch of muscle and every scar. He’s been through a lot, and I want to know everything about this cursed man.
He bends his head down, forehead resting against mine. I put my palms on his chest, taking solace in his heart beating beneath my fingertips. I drag my hands down to his hips and slide them back under his wings.
After a moment of hesitation, Jacques does the same to me, holding me tight against him. I can’t explain it and I know it doesn’t make sense. Nothing about this should feel familiar, yet it does. Being in Jacques’s embrace is like coming home after a long vacation. It’s warm and safe and familiar, and I don’t want to leave. Because if I do, there’s no promise I’ll come back.
I tip my head up, brushing my lips against his. A hard rush of desire goes through me, making me wet at just the thought of Jacques being naked and on top of me. I bring my hips against his, needing to feel more of him. He hasn’t even touched me yet and I’m turned on.
Jacques cups my face in both his hands, leaning back just enough to study my features.
“You’re beautiful, Acelina.”
Beautiful. Not hot, or sexy. I part my lips, ready to say something back, when Jacques suddenly jerks away.
“What’s wrong?”
“I can’t, Ace.” He lowers his gaze, face pained. My heart is in my throat. I don’t handle rejection well, and I know it stems from my childhood of being passed around by family until my aunt finally took me in.
“Why?” My voice comes out in a harsh whisper, and I’m trying to remind myself that I don’t have a deep connection with Jacques. Not really. But what I feel is so real.
“Your soup is going to boil over.”
“It’s sauce, not soup.”
“Whatever it is, it’s bubbling up.”
Exhaling, I turn back to the stove and stick the wooden spoon back in the pan. The floor creaks behind me as Jacques leaves. I turn off the burner and go to the fridge, grabbing a bottle of wine. I struggle getting the cork out.
“Need help?” Hasan’s deep voice rumbles through the kitchen. Relief floods through me just at the sight of him.
“I think so. The cork is breaking off.”
Hasan takes the bottle from me and gives the corkscrew one good twist. “Wine?” he asks, sniffing the bottle.
“Yeah. It’s sweet red and I actually have no idea if that was even a thing back in your time. I’m not really a fan of the way alcohol tastes, but I could use a glass right about now.”
The wine glasses in the cabinet are dusty. I quickly wash five and pour wine into two glasses and offer one to Hasan. He takes a drink and makes a funny face.
“Don’t like it?” I ask with a laugh. I welcome a mouthful of sweet liquid down my throat.
“It’s very sweet.” He takes another drink. “I wasn’t expecting that. But I do like it.”
I take another drink, looking at Hasan with the smile still on my face. He’s at least six and a half feet tall, with large, onyx wings. He’s a seasoned warrior, with the scars and tattoos to prove it, and yet here he is, standing in the kitchen of my family-owned mansion sipping sweet red wine with me.
And it feels like the most natural thing in the world.
Hasan stays with me while I finish dinner and helps me set the table. We don’t talk about vampires or magic. Instead we talk about the modern world. I brought my computer today and plan to turn on a movie for the guys later. I refill my glass with wine and close my eyes, mentally calling out to the guys to test out this summoning thing.
It works.
Thomas and Gilbert come in first. They were outside exercising, needing to literally stretch their wings, and both are glistening with sweat, looking like they stepped right off a photoshoot for GQ magazine. Well, if GQ featured gargoyles, that is.
“Smells good again, Ace.” Thomas comes up behind me and slips his arm around my waist, leaning over my shoulder to look at the spaghetti on the stovetop.