She mounted the steps to the front porch and raised her hand to knock, then paused and tried the door knob instead. Her mouth immediately twisted with irritation when it opened. Honest to God, sometimes she could just smack James, she thought with irritation. Both her parents and his had co-signed on the mortgage. Both sets of parents had also gifted them with the down payment. This house was the best they could afford, but it wasn't exactly in a good neighborhood . . . and she didn't mind that. What she did mind was that her husband kept forgetting to lock the damned door in this less than sterling neighborhood. She understood that he had been raised in various tents where there was no such thing as a lock, but so had she and she didn't forget to lock the door. Besides, they'd stopped living in tents seven years ago. Just how long was it going to take for him to start remembering to lock it?
Realizing that she was standing in the open door mentally ranting to herself, Holly shook off her anger and slid inside. Instead of being upset that he hadn't locked it, she should be grateful that he had forgotten and she could enter, she told herself, because James was no doubt sleeping right now and the man slept like the dead. She could have been knocking a heck of a long time.
They would work on ways to help him remember to lock the door, Holly told herself as she closed and locked it herself. She headed up the hall and turned into the kitchen, heading first to the refrigerator. She hadn't had anything but a coffee and donut since getting on the bus last night and was starved. Unfortunately, she opened the refrigerator to find it completely barren. It looked like James hadn't shopped at all since she'd left. He'd probably hit the drive-thru on the way home and then on the way to work every day. The man wasn't much of a cook. He could manage macaroni and cheese, or spaghetti, but that was it. It wasn't like he was Justin, who could--
Holly cut that thought off abruptly. Having been raised in tents, neither of them had known much about proper cooking when they'd left their parents to start out on their own. Besides, Justin was over a hundred years old. He'd had a lot more time to learn to cook. It wasn't fair to compare the two men, she told herself.
The doorbell rang and Holly quickly closed the refrigerator door and then rushed out of the kitchen and back up the hall to answer it before the bell rang again and woke up her sleeping husband. She pulled the door open, a polite smile of inquiry on her face, and then raised her eyebrows at the courier standing there.
"Delivery for Mrs. Holly Bosley."
"Who from?" Holly asked curiously as she took the clipboard he held out.
"Argeneau Blood Bank."
"Oh." Holly flushed, a combination of embarrassment and alarm assailing her as she worried what the man might think she needed blood for. Did hemophiliacs keep blood in their homes?
"You'll need a separate refrigerator for the blood," the fellow announced as he took back his clipboard. "I gather someone will be out today to deliver one."
"A separate refrigerator?" she asked uncertainly, stepping back as he picked up the cooler and stepped forward.
"Yes. In case of nosy visitors," he explained. "You don't want them opening the kitchen refrigerator in search of milk for their coffee and seeing stacks of blood lying around."
"No," Holly said faintly as she closed the door and led the way to the kitchen. That wasn't something she'd even considered. Perhaps she hadn't learned everything she needed to know about being an immortal after all.
"Don't worry, you'll get the hang of it," the young man said, setting the cooler on the kitchen floor in front of the refrigerator. Pausing then, he offered a hand. "I'm Mac, by the way. I'll be delivering all your blood."
"Oh." Holly managed a smiled and shook his hand. "Thank you."
"Just doing my job," he said lightly, and then turned to open the refrigerator door and suggested, "I'd recommend your bedroom closet for the mini fridge they're delivering. Even the nosiest visitor won't poke far in there. Unless of course your husband is mortal and doesn't know . . . as is apparently the case," he added dryly as he quickly transferred the blood into the fridge.
"How did you know--" she began uncertainly.
"Newbies are easy to read," he said apologetically. "Sorry."
"You're an immortal?" Holly asked with amazement.
Pausing, he glanced up and smiled, allowing his fangs to drop as he did.
"Oh . . . wow," she said weakly and for some reason that made him chuckle.
"Don't worry. You'll start to recognize when an immortal is in your vicinity quick enough," Mac assured her, going back to work.
"How?" Holly asked at once.
"You'll feel a very faint sort of buzzing through your body," he explained. "It's probably happening right now, but because you're still adjusting to being more sensitive to so many things at once, that one won't get noticed at first."
"I suppose you mean the hearing, smelling and seeing better?" Holly asked, and while she had noticed being able to see farther and hear conversations she wouldn't have been able to before, it wasn't like she suddenly had X-ray vision or anything.
"Your brain is overwhelmed right now with all the new levels of information. It's not used to taking in so much data. You'll notice the difference over time though," Mac assured her as he finished transferring the blood, closed the refrigerator, and straightened with the cooler in hand.
"Oh," Holly murmured as she followed him out of the kitchen. When they reached the front door, she asked, "Are you a newbie too?"
"Yeah. Two years tomorrow," he announced with a grin as he opened the door. "It's great, huh?"
"Great," Holly said and his eyebrows rose at her lack of enthusiasm.
Reaching out, Mac patted her shoulder. "It'll get better. Change can be hard, but once you adjust, you'll enjoy it. I promise."
"Thank you," Holly whispered, and then watched silently as he walked out to the van parked in her driveway.
Closing the door, she let her forehead rest against it and closed her eyes. I'll adjust, she assured herself. But right now, she had to sort out where to put the mini fridge that was apparently coming. Not her bedroom. She needed it somewhere James wouldn't notice. Holly knew she had to tell him about the change in her at some point, but she wasn't ready for that conversation right now. She needed a little time to adjust to the changes herself before she tried to help him adjust.
The laundry room downstairs, Holly decided suddenly. James hated laundry. She'd put the refrigerator in there and then take over the chore of doing laundry from now on, until she explained everything. Yes, that would do, she decided and then gave a start when the doorbell rang again.
Whirling, she opened the door. The refrigerator had arrived.
"Honey?"
Holly shifted sleepily on the couch and blinked her eyes open. When she recognized the man leaning over her, she sat up abruptly, the blanket she'd pulled over herself dropping to her waist. "James."
"What are you doing sleeping on the couch, honey? When did you get home?"
"Around noon," she answered running a hand through her hair to be sure it wasn't standing on end. "I laid down on the couch because I didn't want to wake you."
"Well, you're home now. How about a hug for the poor husband who had to do without you for so long?"
"Oh." Flushing, Holly stood, allowing the blanket to slip to the floor, but rather than hug her, James stepped back, eyes widening.
"Whoa, wow, what are you wearing?"
Holly glanced down, blushing brightly as she stared at Gia's leather outfit. She wasn't surprised by his reaction. She didn't even own a skirt in her meager wardrobe. Jeans and dress pants were all she usually wore, and this skirt was a little short . . . okay a lot short, she acknowledged, tugging at the hem to make it look a little longer.
"Oh, I borrowed this from a friend and didn't have time to change before the bus left," she lied.
"Plane."
Holly glanced at him blankly. "What?"
"You mean before your plane left," James explained. "You surely didn't take a bus all
the way home from New York," he added with a laugh.
"Yes, plane," she said weakly, giving her head a shake. She had always been a horrible liar, but how could she have forgotten she was supposed to have been in New York on an internship rather than in Los Angeles playing Bela Lugosi?
"Well, good. I'm glad the outfit's borrowed," James said on a laugh. "For a minute I thought you were--" Cutting himself off abruptly, he shook his head. "It doesn't matter. You look great. You've lost weight, haven't you?"
"I--a little," she murmured.
"Good." Smiling, he turned to head for the kitchen. "I'm starved. Let's have some breakfast."
Holly stared after him, unmoving. He might not have said what he was thinking, but she'd read his mind. That was something she'd promised herself she wouldn't do on the bus ride home, but she hadn't been able to resist. The thought he'd cut off was that he'd thought she was going slutty on him, and his comment about her losing weight had been followed by the unspoken thought that he was relieved. He'd feared she was going to "chunk out" now that they were married, and had found her extra pounds unattractive before this weight loss.
The worst thing about it was that she couldn't confront him about his thoughts because she shouldn't know them. And Holly couldn't even be mad because they were his thoughts. He had every right to think her outfit was slutty, and it wasn't his fault if he'd found her less attractive with the extra twenty pounds she'd been carrying before the turn. He hadn't said that. He'd kept his thoughts to himself, no doubt, to avoid hurting her. She was the one who had intruded into his mind and read them.
Holly let her breath out slowly. Gia was right. It was going to be hard to keep this marriage together now that she could read his thoughts. She really needed to refrain from using her new skills with him. And she would, Holly promised herself grimly. She would never read his thoughts again.
"Hey, honey. We don't have anything in the refrigerator. Do you want to go out to supper?"
Holly glanced toward the kitchen at that shout and bit her lip. All her old clothes would be too big, and she hadn't packed and brought any of the new ones she'd bought with Gia. Clearing her throat, she said, "I don't know. Why don't we order--" She paused when the doorbell rang, and then hurried to answer it. It was another deliveryman. Holly accepted the envelope and the clipboard he handed her, and then watched with surprise as he turned to hurry back to his truck. Noting that Gia Notte was in the slot as the sender, Holly quickly opened the envelope and read the short letter inside.
I thought you might need your new clothes.
Hope everything is going well.
You have my number.
Giacinta
Sighing with relief, Holly stuffed the letter and envelope into her pocket and quickly signed the document on the clipboard in the spot marked with an X. She then offered the clipboard and a smile to the deliveryman as he returned with a box.
"Thank you," she murmured, taking it from him.
"My pleasure. Have a good day," the man said turning to head back to his truck.
"Holly? Did you want to go out to dinner or not? We can invite Bill and Elaine to make up for having to cancel last time." James stuck his head out of the kitchen, then raised his eyebrows as he noted the box she was carrying. "What's that?
"My clothes," Holly said, moving toward the stairs. Now that she knew what James thought of her outfit, she wanted to change. She'd have to ship the skirt and vest back to Gia, of course.
"Airport misplaced it?" he guessed and when Holly glanced at him blankly, James clucked his tongue impatiently and explained, "Your suitcase. I gather the airport lost it briefly?" He paused, one eyebrow rising as he noticed the box she was holding. "Although it looks more like they wrecked your suitcase or something. I doubt you took your clothes out there in a box."
"No," Holly agreed vaguely, and then hurried upstairs to avoid further questions.
"I'm surprised you aren't coming back with us."
Justin shifted his gaze from the small plane that had just taxied to a halt twenty feet in front of them to glance at Dante, and then shook his head. "I need to stay close."
He didn't explain why, but then he didn't have to. They all knew he was waiting there in the desperate hope that Holly would realize her marriage couldn't work and would give him a chance.
"Well, I'm surprised Mortimer is okay with you hanging around here when he's so shorthanded," Dante said.
"I left a message and he didn't call back so he must be," Justin said mildly. He didn't admit though that he'd shut off his phone after making the call.
"Hmmm," Tomasso grunted. "I wonder."
Justin raised his eyebrows and then followed the man's gaze to the plane. The door was open, the stairs down and--Justin straightened abruptly when he saw who was coming down the steps out of it.
"Crap," he muttered, fighting the sudden instinct to jump in the SUV and drive off.
"Si. It could mean merda," Dante said thoughtfully.
"For you," Tomasso added.
They all fell silent as Lucian approached. Stopping in front of them, he skimmed them with a gaze before focusing on Dante and Tomasso. "Go ahead. And I'm sure Justin thanks you for your assistance," he added as the two giants headed toward the plane.
"I thanked them before we left the house," Justin said tensely.
Lucian gave an abrupt nod and then raised an eyebrow. "Where is your bag?"
Crap, Justin thought, but said, "At the house. I'm staying."
Lucian nodded and then asked. "Where?"
He blinked in surprise. "Well, at--"
"Jackie and Vincent gave us permission to use their home for Holly's training. That's done. Did you call and ask them if you could stay longer?" he asked mildly. "Or do you plan to stay at your parents' for the next year or so? You and Mortimer did sell your condo, did you not?"
Justin cursed under his breath. He'd planned to stay at Jackie and Vincent's, but . . . "The next year or so?" he asked, his frown deepening.
Lucian shrugged. "I am just guessing how long this could take. Holly could change her mind and come around in a couple weeks or months, or she might never. I'm guessing you won't give up for a good year though."
Justin scowled at the thought of her not coming around at all. She had to. She was his life mate.
"So how do you plan to fill your time while you're waiting?" Lucian asked. "Helping out your parents with the dogs?"
He so wasn't living at his parents'. He loved them, they were great and everything, but they would drive him mad in no time.
"And did you write up a resignation for me to give to Mortimer?" Lucian added pleasantly.
Justin gave a start at that. "A resignation? I'm not resigning."
Lucian raised his eyebrows, nodded, and then barked, "Then get your ass on the plane."
"But--" But how would Holly find him if she did change her mind? he wanted to ask. He couldn't get the words out though.
"Gia gave Holly both her number and yours. If she comes around, she will undoubtedly call one of you. In the meantime, you do nobody any good pacing around Vincent's house, or your mother's, eating cheese puffs and refusing to bathe."
"How do you--"
"You smell," Lucian interrupted succinctly. "And you have orange powder on your cheek and--" He reached out and plucked something from his hair above his right ear and then held it up in front of Justin's face. It was the broken end of a cheese puff. Justin had been eating them in bed last night. One must have rolled down his cheek into his hair, he realized. Lucian turned to flick away the remnant of food, then turned back and eyed him solemnly. "It is hard. I know. You are hurting. I know. But if she does change her mind and come for you, do you really want her to find you sitting around here feeling sorry for yourself?" He let that sink in and then added, "You would do better to get back to work, take out your frustration on some rogues, and hold on to your self-respect. Mortimer needs you."
Justin stared at him blankly for a minute and then shook his
head, murmuring, "Wow."
Lucian narrowed his eyes. "Wow, what?"
"It's like Leigh is making you almost human," Justin said, a crooked smile twisting his lips. "You even speak in whole sentences now and everything."
Lucian scowled. "Get your ass on the plane."
Justin shoved his hands in his pockets and started walking toward the plane, a little cockiness in his walk. "You need me. You said so."
"I said Mortimer needs you," Lucian growled, following.
"Yeah, but you missed me. I can tell," he said, his smile becoming more natural.
"I missed you like a pain in the ass," Lucian snapped.
"That's still missing me," Justin said on a laugh as he jogged up the plane steps. He was still smiling as he entered the plane and threw himself into one of the four empty seats Dante and Tomasso had left. He watched silently as Lucian pulled the plane door closed and the engine fired up. When the plane began to taxi, Justin turned to peer out the window at the sun-splashed tarmac, his smile fading. He was leaving Holly behind in sunny California, and didn't know if or when he'd see her again . . . It felt like a part of him was dying.
"Are we supposed to go in, or are Bill and Elaine meeting us out here?" Holly asked James as he steered her car into the restaurant parking lot.
"Inside," James answered, parking. "Whoever gets here first gets a booth." Undoubtedly that'll be them since we're late as usual.
Holly bit her lip and tried to ignore that thought when it hit her. It hadn't been directed at her, and hadn't even been a complaint about her really. It was just a generally unhappy thought, and it was true. They were usually late. Between work and classes, Holly always seemed to be scrambling.
James was always ready on time; he only had work to contend with and after sleeping all day, he'd got up, showered, dressed, and was ready to go when she'd got home. It was she who had rushed in the door after spending all morning in classes and all afternoon at work and then had to rush to get ready. It hadn't helped that her boss at the present temp job she was working had stopped her on the way out to ask a question. Holly had spent fifteen minutes explaining something she'd already explained to him earlier that day before she could get away. It had put her behind the gun before she'd even walked in the door. They would have had to leave right then to get here on time, but she'd needed to change.