He tipped his head back and laughed. “Be careful what you wish for.”
“This beats pizza any day of the week.”
“Are you glad I didn’t bring pizza now?”
As much as I hated to agree, I had to. “I’m afraid us seeing each other any more now depends on you cooking me more of this.”
His blue eyes lit up like sparkling sapphires. “Let me get this right—I haven’t even officially asked to court you yet and you’re already putting stipulations on the potential future. This is interesting.”
Court? Had I been transported back a hundred years? Making light of the situation, I replied, “I like to be different.”
“Nothing wrong with that at all,” he replied.
We made small talk as we picked our way through the food. By the time my stomach ached from having so much food crammed into it, there wasn’t much left on the table. I felt rather ashamed and embarrassed of myself, but it was like a Pringles situation—once you start, you can’t stop.
“It’s nice to see a woman with a good appetite. An appetite that isn’t just for a garden side salad anyway,” Marcus said, clearing away the empty cartons.
I covered my face with my hands and giggled. “If you think I'm a greedy pig, you can tell me.”
“I would never think anything of the sort,” he said. “I find it admirable that you’re not afraid to be yourself around me.”
I blushed. “Thank you.”
“I also find it quite refreshing that I feel I can be myself around you too.”
That took me by surprise. “Oh. Well I'm glad you feel that way.”
An awkward silence followed for a few seconds before he asked, “Would you perhaps like to watch a film or something?”
“I really just want to collapse into bed and fall asleep watching TV.” My heart lurched as my cheeks burst into heat. I felt so rude, especially after his cooking effort.
He smiled, his eyes exuding warmth. “Of course. Would it be too bold to ask if you would like some company whilst you do that?”
Butterflies filled my stomach and nervous tinged excitement coursed through my veins. “I think that would be quite nice.”
He stood up and held his hand out. I liked this chivalrous side to him, and I gladly placed my hand in his. As he led us towards my bed, my heart started pounding harder and harder. I’d never had a guy in my bed. I knew nothing would happen but that didn’t stop anxiety from setting in.
“Here,” he said, lifting up the duvet. “You climb in and I’ll sit on top. Is that ok?”
My nerves eased a little and I nodded. He seemed to have this innate ability to say and do the right thing whenever worry took a hold of me. It made me trust him even more because whatever he said and did worked. I felt relaxed and safe and I knew nothing would happen unless I wanted it to. I mean, we hadn’t even kissed yet so why would I think anything else would happen?
I climbed into bed and snuggled up under the quilt. Marcus sat next to me as promised. He adjusted the pillow behind him against the headboard and then patted his side. I looked up at him and gave him a questioning look.
“Put your pillow here,” he said.
I grabbed my pillow and laid it half against his side and half on his lap, then settled down on it. Marcus pulled the duvet up and around my back making me feel like a little girl being tucked in at night. It felt odd but took my anxiety down ten notches. Every negative emotion or reaction I had, this man had a cure for. He seemed to be a natural balm to me. I couldn’t help but wonder if it happened to be specific to me or if he just had this ability with everyone. I, of course, hoped it might be specific to me.
“What would you like to watch?” he said, picking up the TV remote off the bedside table.
I grinned. “I always watch Murder by the Sea when I’m in bed.”
“Does it bore you to sleep or something?”
I laughed. “Not at all. It relaxes me.”
“Hearing about gruesome murders relaxes you?”
“No,” I said, giggling. “Although, I am now questioning that. I don’t know what it is. Maybe it’s so that the finer details can lodge in my subconscious so I remember them better.”
He chuckled. “Whatever works for you, Miss Snaps.”
A massive grin broke out on my face. I liked the fact he had a pet name for me. I needed one for him. He flicked through the TV channels until he found Murder by the Sea and then draped his arm around my back, over the top of the duvet of course. As he gave me a comforting squeeze into his side, I couldn’t help the burst of happiness that spread through my body and eased me into sleep.
Chapter 12
Littered with bright stars, the evening sky above me looked brighter than I'd ever noticed before. The blackness looked like pure velvet and I wanted to reach up and touch it. I looked down and found myself stood on the edge of a cliff, the sea breaking waves against huge rocks a hundred feet below me.
I shivered as a gust of cool air blew over me. Only then did I notice the thin white nightgown I wore. Satin with lace trimmings around the sweetheart neckline, I suddenly felt extremely bare and exposed.
As I hugged my arms over my chest, I glanced out across the sea. On the horizon, the tall masts of a ship stood out like skyscrapers in a city. Sail upon sail sat high on the masts and its long, pointed nose reminded me of a swordfish.
“Mirabelle.”
A soft voice carried along the wind. It sounded more of a whisper than anything, the gender undistinguishable.
I turned around, wondering if someone else had joined me up here.
“Mirabelle...”
I could see no one around at all. The ruins of the abbey stood high up on the hill, reaching up into the sky.
“Mirabelle...”
The voice had grown softer, more affectionate. Something tickled my left leg and I looked down to see a huge black wolf circling me. My natural instincts kicked in and I screamed and jumped away, the crumbling cliff face losing some rocks and pebbles to the ground below.
My balance offset, my body started falling backwards. I became a windmill with my arms, trying my hardest to move myself forwards, back onto solid ground. As I closed my eyes and waited for the inevitable plummet to my death, a powerful jaw locked down on my arm, pulling me forwards.
Breathless and trembling, I fell onto my hands and knees, covered in sweat and tears pouring down my cheeks. I collapsed onto my side, thankful I’d survived, and curled up into a ball. My arm pulsed from where I'd been bitten. I dared to look at it to see deep wounds covered in blood, crimson streaks trailing all down my forearm.
The wolf hovered over my injured arm and I whimpered, expecting it to start eating me, after all, what predator could resist the taste of fresh blood? I watched its whisky coloured eyes, waiting for that flat lifeless predator stare, but compassion and concern greeted me in its dark depths.
When its pink tongue gently lapped at my bleeding arm, I froze, my breath held in anticipation of the killer bite. But none came. After a few licks, it moved away from my arm, then folded itself into a sleeping position in the curve of my body, against my stomach.
Before my very eyes, the deep marks caused by its lethal teeth healed up as if someone had touched them with magic. The only clue of their former existence were the blood stains on my forearm. I closed my eyes and succumbed to the darkness promising me rest and most of all, peace...
Jolting awake, I gasped as I sat up. I looked around for Marcus, but he’d gone. Glancing around my apartment, my heart stilled as I saw a figure sat at the kitchen table. The definition seemed hazy, but it seemed like something towered over the top of the chair.
“Marcus?”
I quickly reached for my phone with my right hand, grabbing it off the bedside table.
“Marcus?”
Flicking the torch on, I shone it over at the kitchen. I frowned when empty chairs stared back at me. The chair I'd been looking at sat directly in front of the worktop and the microwave. After
my weird dream, my mind seemed to be making all sorts of peculiar assumptions. A microwave for a head had to be a new one though.
I flopped back down onto my bed and frowned as I wondered where Marcus could have gone. I’d presumed he’d stay the night but perhaps I’d misunderstood the situation. I couldn’t help but feel slightly disappointed that he’d left.
After checking my phone for messages, and finding none, I tried to force myself back to sleep. A little after three a.m., it was an unearthly hour to be awake by anyone’s standards. However, the more I told myself to sleep, the more I seemed intent on staying awake.
Irritated, I opened my phone and clicked on Facebook. May as well catch up on the latest. Hopefully the bright light and boring nonsense on here would make me fall back asleep within a matter of minutes.
After flicking through my newsfeed to see nothing of much interest, as per usual, I sighed and started watching funny animal videos. To my surprise, Luke’s chat head popped up.
Luke: Hello stranger. What brings you on here at this time of morning?
Me: I could ask you the same thing lol
Luke: Couldn’t sleep
Me: Me neither. Sucks. Thought coming on here would bore me back into sleep
Luke: Well I'm sure talking to me will do that lol
Me: You said it not me lol
Luke: Harsh
Me: Who am I to disagree with you?!
Luke: *laughing emoji* Are you feeling better?
Me: Yes, thank you. It appears your ginger trick worked. Managed to eat loads of food
Luke: What did you have?
Me: Marcus cooked some pork, and some prawns in THE best sauce I've ever tasted, like EVER *drooling emoji*
He'd read it, but no reply seemed to be coming. I presumed because I'd mentioned Marcus. What had gone between these two? It was becoming more annoying than anything now and I really wanted to find out what the deal was.
After a couple of minutes, the three little dots started dancing with a reply. I chewed my lip as I debated what his response would be.
Luke: Marcus? What do you mean he cooked?
Me: He wanted to go out somewhere, but I didn’t want to risk it after earlier, so he brought food to me instead, I thought it was very sweet of him
Luke: He came to your apartment?
Me: Yes…
Luke: Is he there now?
My jaw dropped. What was he trying to insinuate? Not only that, but what business of his was it anyway?
Me: If you’re trying to insinuate I slept with a guy I’ve known for three days, you’re way off track
Luke: Nicely worded but there’s still no direct yes or no
Me: No, he’s not here. I don’t know what the issue is with you two but I’m not getting in the middle of it. Who I choose to see, romantically, is no more of your business than who I choose to have as a friend is Marcus’ business.
Luke: I presume from that comment that I came up in conversation then?
I snorted and shook my head. Seriously?
Me: Stop trying to inflate your ego, it doesn’t suit you.
I shut my phone off at that point. I’d had enough of talking to him and trying to figure out the problem between the two of them. Feeling more than a little irritated, I rolled over and shut my eyes, willing my brain to switch off enough for some sleep.
Thankfully, I managed to sleep after that. No more dreams, or rather nightmares, involving wolves. The conversation I'd had with Luke though still irritated me and I decided to skip breakfast to avoid him. I knew doing the rooms with him would be enough of a challenge without having to navigate a tense atmosphere in front of Sophie.
I ventured into the kitchen just before nine a.m. to see Sophie clearing the kitchen table.
“Morning, sweetheart, how are you feeling?” she asked.
“I’m good thanks.”
“You’ve missed breakfast, but I don’t mind rustling something up for you.”
I shook my head. “I’m ok, thank you though. I'm going to have your stir fry for lunch.”
“You take it easy today. Let him do all the heavy work,” she said, pointing her finger upwards.
“I’m fine, Sophie, honestly.”
She gave me a warm smile and then started loading the dishwasher. I took a deep breath and headed upstairs. I didn’t know whether things would be awkward between us or not, but I felt ready for anything.
“Well look here,” Luke said, popping his head around the doorframe of one of the rooms. “Morning.”
“Hi,” I said, feeling more than a little defensive, just in case he started about Marcus again.
“Sleep well?”
“Not too bad. You?”
“I managed to doze off for an hour or so.”
An awkward silence stretched between us for a few seconds until I said, “I’ll do the beds again?”
He nodded. “Sure.” He cleared his throat. My heart jumped. Here it comes. “Listen, about earlier, last night, whatever you want to call it, I'm sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you or anything.”
I shrugged my shoulders. “It’s ok.”
“Look, I know we haven’t known each other long but if there’s any words of mine you pay attention to, please let it be these—don’t trust him, Caitlyn. He’s not who you think he is.”
I folded my arms over my chest and narrowed my eyes at him. “Funny that. He said exactly the same thing about you.”
He tweaked his lips up into a knowing smile and chuckled. “I have no doubt about that.”
“Like I said last night, it’s none of your business who I date or anything else. It’s also none of Marcus’ business who I choose to have as a friend. Whatever the problem is with you two, don’t drag me into it.”
“Heard you loud and clear, Captain,” he said, sporting a goofy grin as he saluted me.
I couldn’t help but laugh at him. “I mean it.”
“As do I.”
We worked our way through the first-floor rooms. When we were about halfway through, Luke suddenly turned very cold and stoic, as if someone had flicked a switch and changed him from happy to sour.
“Are you ok?” I asked, studying him as I put a fresh pillowcase on.
“Couldn’t be better,” he replied, ramming the hoover across the floor.
His eyes were hardened with anger, his jaw rigid, and the veins in his neck bulging and pulsing.
“You really don’t look it. Have I said or done something?”
“No. I'm fine.”
I grinned. “When a woman says ‘I’m fine’ she means the exact opposite.”
“Well it’s a good job I'm not a woman then.” He turned around and pushed the hoover back out into the corridor.
His back and shoulders were so taut, he seemed to be visibly trembling. I didn’t understand. He'd had no phone calls or even so much as looked at his phone. We had literally been the only interaction with each other all morning. I thought back over our jovial small talk. It had always been light and fun, and we had great banter. What had prompted such a turn in his mood?
Shaking my head and deciding not to push him further, I carried on in my own little world, figuring that to let him work it out on his own would be the best thing. As we were about to head up to the second floor, my dad shouted me from downstairs.
I shot a worried look at Luke.
“Don’t look at me,” he said, his voice overly curt.
Frowning, I headed downstairs to find Dad in his room—with Marcus. I almost did a double take. He’d left me in the middle of the night without so much as a text or a note, then reappeared at my house this morning. Not only that, what did he want with Dad? My stomach dropped. I'd confided in him about the letter. He hadn’t confronted Dad about it without telling me, surely?
“Shut the door,” Dad said, from behind his desk.
Marcus sat in Dad’s lounge chair, which had been pulled over to the desk, and a chair from the kitchen had been brought in, presumably for me.
“Take a seat, pumpkin,” Dad said, motioning to the kitchen chair.
I calmed down a little. He wouldn’t have called me pumpkin if he was in a bad mood. That meant Marcus hadn’t said anything about the letter—yet.
“Mr Davenport has come to see me this morning to ask formal permission to court you,” Dad said, grinning like a Chesire cat.
I froze. I didn’t breathe, I didn’t blink, even my heart stopped for a few seconds. What was I supposed to say to that? I could feel Marcus looking at me. His relaxed pose, one elbow propped up on the chair arm and his chin resting between his thumb and forefinger, just gave off vibes of watching something with curiosity. Was this some sort of test I had no clue about?
“I...I...what am I supposed to say here?”
Dad relaxed back in his chair and smiled. “Whatever you feel like saying.”
I scratched my head. “What I feel like saying is that I've time travelled back a hundred years for some unknown reason.”
Dad chuckled. “That’s reasonable.”
“Do you remember what I said before, Dad?” I cocked my head to one side and raised my eyebrow. “About medieval trade-offs?”
Marcus chuckled.
“This isn’t a medieval trade off,” Dad said, smiling. “Remember what I said about certain characteristics being desirable?”
I sighed and frowned. “I don’t even know what ‘courting’ is so I don’t even know what I'm agreeing to. If I even agree that is.”
“It’s dating, sweetheart,” Dad said, leaning his arms on the desk.
“Actually,” Marcus said. “Its origins are a little more serious than dating.”
I turned my attention to Marcus, not sure whether to be intrigued or concerned. “What’s more serious than dating, other than marriage?”
He moved his chin holding hand and opened it out in a gesture of ‘there’s your answer’.
“Hold on a minute,” I said. “You’re asking my dad if you can marry me?”
He laughed lightly. “No, Caitlyn. I'm not asking for your hand in marriage. I'm asking to court you. Courting is not dating. Dating, especially in these modern times, is nothing more than being exclusive with someone, of course depending on the details of the agreement. It may or may not lead to marriage. Courting is of a serious nature from the outset. The intention is for marriage at the end of it. It’s essentially the commitment that then allows for intimacy and for the solidification of that in marriage when it is acceptable for both parties.”
Love, Lies and Immortal Ties: A young adult paranormal romance (Love, Lies and Ties Book 1) Page 10
