This was not good.
I resisted and it worked for a few beats then his mouth opened over mine, mine automatical y opened to let in his tongue and the minute it slid inside my mouth I melted into him and kissed him back.
Almost as quickly as it began, it ended and I felt of surge of disappointment.
His head came up and he looked down at me. “I’m gonna have you Jules,” he promised and at his promise, tingles rushed across my skin in a very a pleasant way.
Then he let me go, turned me and gave me a little push toward the hal .
I walked into Nick’s living room. Nick was lying ful -out on his couch.
“Hey Jules,” Nick said, grinning at me.
“Would you like your hemlock now or should I put it in the Thanksgiving turkey?” I asked Nick, throwing myself in an armchair. Boo jumped up in my lap and out of habit I began to stroke him. He settled in and began to purr.
“Like you’re cookin’ the Thanksgiving turkey. Please,” Nick returned, his eyes sliding to the TV.
Vance settled into another armchair. He nabbed a can of pop from the coffee table that he’d obviously been drinking and sat back, crossing a scuffed, cowboy-booted ankle on his knee.
“Jules doesn’t cook. You should know that. Kitchen plus food plus Jules equals disaster,” Nick told Vance.
“I’l keep that in mind,” Vance responded, his eyes cutting to me and there wasn’t any anger there anymore, just amusement.
“Nick. Shut up,” I said and I was sure my eyes stil had anger in them.
“She can be rude sometimes too,” Nick shared, his gaze never leaving the TV.
“I’ve already learned that,” Vance said.
I leaned forward and grabbed a slice of pizza from the open box sitting on the coffee table. I took a big bite, chomping on it and deciding to watch the footbal and ignore both of them.
“She makes a kil er margarita though,” Nick went on, a font of Juliet Lawler information and happy to impart it on anyone.
“I don’t drink,” Vance said.
This was such a strange comment that both Nick and I looked at Vance.
“No?” Nick asked.
“Recovering alcoholic,” Vance said, now his eyes were on the TV.
I moved my eyes back to the TV too, shocked at this knowledge and not wanting to make a big deal of it.
I couldn’t imagine Vance as a drunk or out of control in any way. He seemed to be total y on top of every situation.
I took another big bite of pizza, chewed and pul ed off a bit and fed it to Boo who was staring at my slice of pizza with desperate kitty eyes.
“How long you been dry?” Nick asked.
“Ten years. Dried out in prison,” Vance replied.
Nick and I looked at Vance again.
“Prison?” Nick asked.
“Two years. Grand theft auto.”
I swal owed hard and turned back to the television.
“Christ, man,” Nick said softly, “you must have been what, a teenager?”
“Sent down when I was twenty,” Vance replied.
I took another bite of pizza and gave another piece to Boo.
Boo was in heaven. I was freaking out.
“Close with your folks?” Nick asked.
“Nick…” I decided to cut in. He was getting a bit nosy.
He was the only father I ever knew and any father’s duty was to be hard on his daughter’s dates. Especial y when they informed you they were recovering alcoholics and ex-cons. But this wasn’t high school and this was a bit much.
“Haven’t seen ‘em since I was ten,” Vance answered without hesitation.
My head swung around and I looked at Vance. He was leaned back in his chair, eyes on the TV, casual and laid back, seemingly unaffected by Nick’s third degree.
I looked hard at him, an expert at reading people, it was part of my job, but he gave no indication he was uncomfortable in any way.
“Why not?” Nick asked, giving up on footbal and turned ful y to Vance.
“Father turned me out. Wasn’t a good place to be so I didn’t go back.”
I took another bite, forced my eyes to the television and fed Boo another tidbit. I tried to take my mind off a ten year old Vance turned out of his home but I couldn’t. I couldn’t imagine any ten year old being turned out of their home (even though I did what I did, it stil surprised me, practical y every day) and I didn’t even want to consider the idea that it happened to Vance. In fact, I hated the idea so much it caused me physical pain. My stomach began to hurt, like I was going to be sick, but I forced myself to eat the pizza like nothing was wrong.
“Wel , there you go.” Even Nick couldn’t go on after that piece of information was shared.
“Can we watch footbal ?” I asked the television.
“Yes ma’am,” Nick answered.
The room went silent. I finished my pizza and found my mouth was dry, probably for more reasons than just eating a slice of pepperoni pizza. I picked up Boo, got up and dumped him on Nick’s stomach.
“I need a beer. Nick?” I asked.
“No, Jules. I’m fine.”
My gaze moved to Vance. He was looking up at me and I could read nothing in his eyes.