Beauty's Cursed Sleep

by Mary E. Twomey

  “You don’t know the first thing about me!”

  Cordray’s voice lowered to almost a whisper. “I know that I felt something, and that doesn’t happen for people like me.”

  Rory threw her arms out, exasperated. “Then why push me away and make me question what was just as special a moment for me?”

  Cordray ran his hand from his forehead down his face, his eyes stormy for too many reasons. “Because neither of us has any business pretending that you belong on the arm of a hermit who lives alone in the woods. I could kill you with a single touch.”

  “You want to talk about me finally living, and then tell me you’re too afraid to do the same?”

  The two stared at each other for several weighted seconds, soaking in the frustration, vulnerability, and finally, the attraction they couldn’t deny any longer.

  Rory knew she could run back to the cabin and return to the work she’d set out to tackle on her break from the world. She knew she could cut the whole vacation short and drive home that very afternoon, heading back to what was predictable.

  She didn’t know what it would be like to kiss Cordray, or what his bottom lip would taste like when she sucked on it.

  It took three of her strides to clear the gap between them, her arms coiling around his shoulders as she found herself swept up in his embrace. She scarcely understood her actions, but the tethered girl inside of her slowly became unraveled as her lips captured his. For once, she didn’t hold herself back, but took his bleats of attraction mingled with distress, and held them captive in her heart.

  7

  Life with Cordray

  The afternoon slipped by in a haze of frenzied kisses that were followed up by hushed confessions during their unhurried stroll through the woods. There were too many things they wanted to understand about each other for one day together to suffice, but still they did a valiant attempt to cram as much connection as possible into the sunlit hours. It wasn’t until their stomachs couldn’t be ignored any longer that they headed back to her cabin.

  Cordray’s gloved hand never left Rory’s, as if the twin souls had decided they’d been separated long enough and wouldn’t tolerate another minute of division. He squeezed her hand twice to comfort the anxiety that started to spike when they strolled back into her cabin, and she took in the work that had gone unattended to for the entire day.

  He motioned to the table. “Don’t go here in your mind yet. Diving right back into a problem situation without clarity isn’t going to do you any good.”

  A worry line creased her forehead, and she bit down on her lower lip. “I can’t just duck out on my responsibilities. That’s not me.”

  “Clearly. But if you’ve got four months left, then maybe you’re working on the wrong things. Training your team might be the better move here.” He sifted through her mess and lifted a pen out of the piles. “Come to my place. I can help you with this.”

  Her eyebrow rose as a smirk teased her lips. “Is that a line just to get me to come over? I mean, clearly all my stuff is here.”

  “You don’t need your stuff yet. And yes, it’s a line. Fall for it, I’m begging you.” He paused to nip at her lips, drawing forth contented sighs from them both as they shared in the high that came whenever they kissed. “I want to make you dinner. And not for nothing, but I really can help you with this stuff. I work remotely as an assistant for Joss Motors. It’s not as complicated as your gig, but I can help you better train your assistant, so you don’t have to take your work on vacation.”

  “Remote assistant, eh?”

  Cordray bobbed his head. “The world likes it best when I’m out of sight, so I have to make sure I understand my role and my boss’ goals. I can help you with this.” As if they were magnetized, Cordray’s lips found their way to hers once again. “Let me help you, Story.”

  The desire to keep her tightly-wound system away from scrutinizing eyes she hoped to impress weighed heavy on her, making her want to shoo him out the door so he didn’t see the mess for what it was. She’d tried to form a plan for her permanent leave of absence, but each time a project threatened to leave her hands, she clung tighter, not wanting to relinquish what little control she had over the remainder of her life.

  Then Cordray kissed her again and again, and she realized how very much she wanted to be near him, even if it meant exposing her vulnerability, and the imperfections in her system. “You want to cook for me?”

  “Only you,” he sighed, and then his eyes widened, as if only just catching himself exposing too much of his hand too soon. “Let’s go. Leave all this here.”

  Rory wanted to argue, but didn’t let go of his hand. Instead, she stayed by his side as they walked along a trail that connected the scattered private homes.

  Cordray’s cabin was militaristically tidy, with no patience for knickknacks or useless decorations. It possessed a similar layout to Henry’s cabin, with a spacious living room, a dining room off to the side, and a kitchen with an island in the center. The tall windows were different, though, as Henry had a wall in the back with a few normal-sized windows that could be easily blocked out. Cordray’s kitchen welcomed the light, giving the woods an open invitation to cook with him as he busied about, waving his hand at a pan and cutting board, and catching them as they floated toward him in the air. “There’s a pen and paper in the drawer there. Pull it out and have a seat.”

  Rory tugged the stool away from the island and climbed atop it, wishing she felt tall and capable. “Okay, I’m ready.”

  Cordray started chopping up an onion while the pan heated a drizzle of oil. “I want you to make a list of everything you’re in charge of. A detailed list with all your tasks, down to returning emails. Don’t leave anything out.”

  Rory’s eyes widened. “I’m not sure this paper’s big enough.” Still, she complied, her anxiety rising as she began writing out the many items that she’d taken upon herself. Though she knew running the Foundation required a lot of work, she didn’t realize how much she was doing until she ran out of room on the paper and had to turn it over to continue on the back. Item after item weighted her shoulders, pinching her eyebrows together in consternation as she scolded herself for stepping away from the organization for this long.

  Cordray dumped the onions in the pan, bringing a lively sizzle into the kitchen. He left Rory to her list while he chopped up bell peppers and mushrooms, and then added those to the pan after the onions started browning. A zucchini was quickly julienned and tossed into the mix.

  Rory’s eyes left her paper only when she watched him flip the pan’s contents with a flick of his wrist. The onions and mushrooms were fragrant, and her stomach screamed at her for skipping lunch. She’d gone too long without kissing him, but she tried to remind herself that she was an adult and should finish a task before devolving into a lust-addled teenager.

  When Cordray threw in a handful of beansprouts, Rory realized she’d been captivated by his movements at the expense of finishing off her list. She went back to her task, feeling the weight of all that she’d run away from crowding out the space in her brain she’d reclaimed during their nature walk.

  “Finished,” she said, and slid the paper and pen away from her. The granite countertop had flecks of light blue and silver in the black, which she traced with her fingernail to keep her eyes from darting back to the paper that overwhelmed her.

  “I was just about to say the same thing.” He drizzled a healthy dose of soy sauce into the pan, and then shaved in a teaspoon of fresh ginger, finishing the whole thing off with a pinch of sea salt. “Let me see your list.” His eyes poured over the many lines, his eyebrows pulling together as he frowned. “You realize this is a problem, right? Because if you don’t see how wrong this is, then we’ve got a bigger issue on our hands.”

  “Is this you helping? You promised help and food. I’m this close to taking that entire pan and leaving you with my list.”

  He chuckled at her sass and set the paper back down in front of
her. “Today I want you to pick four things and hand them off. Four things only, and off your plate completely. So far off your radar, that you won’t have to think about them after today. Take a few minutes and call your assistant. Train her, explain it all, and then let it go.”

  Rory frowned at him. “It’s not that simple.”

  “Nothing about giving up control is simple, but this isn’t an option anymore.” He tapped the page. “You’re hiding in your work. That’s not why you created this Foundation.”

  Rory pursed her lips, wondering when it was that they’d crossed over into the realm of him being able to give such constructive insight into her life. “Four things?”

  “And you can pick which ones. But it has to be four, and it has to be now.” He served up the food and set her plate in front of her on the island. He trotted into his bedroom and brought out a worn paperback, taking up residence in the stool next to hers. The food was hot, so he flipped open his book to somewhere in the middle and read quietly while Rory chose four things from her list, and then explained to her assistant over the phone how to handle said tasks without intervention from her.

  By the time Rory ended the call, her food had cooled from piping hot, finally ready to be consumed. “I can’t believe I just did that.”

  Cordray closed his thriller and placed his palm on her back, rubbing in soothing circles. “And would you look at that? The world didn’t end.”

  Rory’s mouth drew to the side. “Well, we’ll see. This smells amazing, by the way.”

  They exchanged lighthearted stories while they ate. The conversation traded off naturally, as if they’d been comfortable with each other forever. To celebrate her workload lightening, they made out on his couch for an hour, thrilling in the freedom of being alone together.

  The next few days were much the same, with a couple alterations as they fell into a rhythm. Not long after the sun rose, Cordray came over and they ate breakfast together while he worked on his laptop. Each morning, she took four more things off her list, training her assistant remotely until she felt confident she wouldn’t have to reclaim the tasks as her own.

  Then the two would go for a nature walk, holding hands and swapping kisses that took on varying shades of sweet and sultry. They packed picnic lunches and ate next to the brook atop the felled tree. They had quickly claimed it as their special spot, and spent many hours straddling the trunk while confessing the highs and lows of their differing paths that had led them to adulthood. Cordray pointed out the different wildlife, and the unique tracks they made in the dirt while Rory let her senses be enamored with the many flowers that seemed to bloom just for them.

  Dinner was always shared at Cordray’s home, and they ended each evening after a frenzied hour of making out like teenagers on his couch.

  When Cordray walked her home well after dark, she turned on the front porch and draped her arms around his shoulders, leaning into him as they kissed again and again. He was on the step below her, which put her on equal footing with him.

  It wasn’t until he dipped his chin downward to break the kiss, his forehead pressed to hers, that she noticed the sadness marring his features in the moonlight. “How long do I have with you?”

  “As long as you’d like,” she replied languidly. It was intoxicating to be so near him, to kiss him whenever she pleased. She stroked the nape of his neck, loving that she could be the one to satiate his craving for touch.

  “How long until you have to go back to your life? How long do we get to keep each other like this?”

  Rory’s libido crested and then crashed, leaving her feeling a slight chill in the air. “I’m not sure what day it is.”

  “Maybe that’s a sign that we shouldn’t let this fade away. Maybe we should try for something more than a week in the woods.”

  Rory’s heart swelled beyond what she’d allowed herself to hope for. There hadn’t been much room or reason for optimism in her life, but now here it was, standing in front of her, asking her questions she’d never permitted herself to consider. “I like the sound of that. What would that look like?”

  Cordray let out a gust of pent-up nerves, drawing her in tighter so their stomachs were flush as he kissed her over and over again. Leaves and errant sticks floated in the air behind him, as if they wanted a peek at their master’s happiness. It seemed the magic followed him around like a puppy, eager to please. “I have no idea. I only care that we’re both willing to give it a real, honest try. This doesn’t happen for me, Story. I know better than to let a good thing slip through my fingers.”

  “This has been the best week of my life,” she admitted, toying with the cropped hair at the base of his neck. Again, he shivered, making her feel powerful in her femininity.

  “Then let’s sleep on it. Tomorrow we’ll figure out how to hold onto each other.”

  His gloved hands were always respectful, but Rory could tell they were both wanting more than a handful of chaste kisses. “Tomorrow,” she promised him, running her fingers over the hard planes of his chest before she bid him goodnight. They were a good match – she was unable to stop touching him, and every time her hands made contact with any part of his body, it seemed to heal a deep-seeded wound he’d harbored for too many years.

  Rory moved into the cabin, utter rapture making her feel as if she was floating. It wasn’t until the sound of a man’s voice broke the solace of the silence that Rory yelped, flicking on the lights to reveal the intruder.

  The slow teasing tone made her shrink with chagrin. “Well, well, well, who on earth was that?”

  8

  Cordray’s Offer

  The sun was just barely up, but Rory hadn’t been able to sleep much, instead opting to work at the kitchen table until Remus awoke and then joined her for coffee and paperwork. “I was doing just fine out here. Remind me again why you assumed I needed a chaperone?”

  “It was either me, Benjamin, or the entire military force. You’re welcome.”

  “I guess you are the lesser evil of all those options.”

  “And I’m actually taking a few things off your plate. You were truly going to do all this by yourself during your grand escape?”

  Rory dropped her pen on the table and folded her arms over her chest. “How’d you even find me? Did Henry squeal?”

  “No. I found you because I’m amazing. Though, Henry is a terrible liar. I knew he knew where you were, so I started visiting his long list of properties.” Remus picked up a contract and showed it to her. “This one’s missing your signature.”

  “I was getting to it.”

  “You’re still not going to tell me about the mysterious man on the porch from last night?”

  “How about we talk about your love life first. How long do you imagine that conversation might be?”

  Remus grimaced. “Pass. You were supposed to be home yesterday, you realize. You asked for one week. That you think Benjamin has the patience or the willpower to stay away from his charge for a moment longer than the allotted time shows how little you understand his loyalty to our family. He’s been downright surly.”

  Guilt tugged at Rory’s features. “I didn’t want him to worry, but I knew there was no way he’d let me have a week to myself.”

  “You’re right on that point. Expect the longest lecture of your life when you get back. He treated me to a warmup of it yesterday.”

  “Sorry about that.”

  “You’ve got your annual exam tomorrow. Did you forget?”

  Her spine stiffened and her mouth stayed in a straight line of displeasure. “I’m a Deadpulse, Uncle Remus. I’ll still be one after the test. I don’t see why I have to take it again.”

  “Now, now, let the Baron have his fun. It tricks him into thinking he has some semblance of power in the world. Like giving a baby a pacifier instead of the real thing.”

  Breathing out through her nose, Rory did her best to steady herself. “This will be my last test, and after that, the Baron will have exactly what he wants –
for me to be the reason Dad’s legacy isn’t passed down.”

  Remus reached across the table and touched her hand. “You being able to perform magic isn’t a requirement for running the council.”

  Rory met her uncle’s gaze with dubiousness tainting her optimism. “I’ll let you go on believing that if you need to.”

  Remus closed his eyes and hung his head. “One problem at a time. I need to see the Feldman contract. They’ve been hemming and hawing over details that shouldn’t matter.”

  Rory jumped when a knock sounded at the front door. She made to answer it, but Remus was out of his chair, motioning for her to stay back.

  Rory bumped him, trying to push him backwards. “It’s nothing to worry about. Cordray always comes over for breakfast.”

  Raising his eyebrow, he took in her piqued tone and the excitement that came over her at a hint of Cordray’s presence. “He does, does he? Very well, let’s meet this fine young man.”

  She rolled her eyes at him. “You sound like Dad.”

  “Yes, and he’s about to meet a member of your family for the first time.” Remus’ posture was stiff as he opened the door a few inches. “May I help you?”

  Cordray looked taken aback at the man filling the doorway. “Oh, I’m sorry. I was looking for Rory. Is she around?”

  Remus tapped his chin, glancing upward. “Rory? I don’t know of any Rory.”

  Shoving her uncle aside, she shot him a scolding look as he devolved into airy giggles. “Ignore him. He’s enjoying this way too much. Come on in. Or actually, let’s go out. That would be far less complicated.”

  Cordray postured, his chin lifting at the challenge. “I’m not afraid of complicated.” Then he extended his hand to the man he recognized from the papers. “Cordray Phillips, sir. I just started seeing your niece, and I’d like to see a lot more of her.” When the tawdry implications of his words dawned on him, panic struck his features, widening his eyes. “I mean I’d like to see her more often.”