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Atramentum

Page 12

by MJ Duncan


  Maeve laughed, her smile softening and the laughter in her gaze became a little more muted as she turned toward Joss. She bit her lip as she hesitated for the briefest of moments, indecision tugging at the corners of her eyes, and then shook her head as she crossed the large foyer to pull Joss into a hug. “I’m glad you were able to make it.”

  Joss wrapped her arms around Maeve’s waist in a loose hold and closed her eyes as she selfishly enjoyed the feeling of having Maeve in her arms. She knew that it was wrong to hold Maeve like this when the blonde was so completely unaware of the way she felt about her; knew that the memory of the way Maeve felt in her arms would linger, adding weeks and months to the time it would take her to move on—but she was too weak to do anything to resist. “Anytime.”

  “Is that a promise?” Maeve purred, her voice soft and rough and oh-so-goddamn-sexy that it should be illegal.

  Joss cleared her throat as they broke apart. “Yeah.”

  There was an intensity to Maeve’s gaze that held Joss frozen in place as green eyes searched for the answer to a question she wished she understood, and after a moment Maeve nodded. “Good to know. Are you hungry?”

  “Starving.” Joss offered Maeve the wine she was still holding. “This is for you.”

  “You didn’t need to bring anything,” Maeve protested as she took the bottle.

  I would give you the world if I could, the least I can do is a bottle of twenty-dollar wine, Joss thought as she shrugged off Maeve’s words. “I wanted to.”

  “Oh. Well…” Maeve ducked her head and smiled up at Joss through her lashes. “Thank you.”

  “My pleasure.”

  George barked at the back of the house, and Maeve rolled her eyes. “It would appear that her highness would like her dinner now.”

  Joss smiled and waved a hand down the hall. “After you.”

  George was waiting for them in the kitchen with her steel bowl dangling from her mouth, looking positively annoyed at having been kept waiting so long.

  Joss laughed and looked at Maeve. “Does she do this every time?”

  “Every damn time.” Maeve’s brow crinkled in confusion as she looked up at Joss. “She didn’t do it for you?”

  “No.” Joss shook her head as she took the bowl from George. “Where do you keep her food?”

  Maeve looked ready to refuse Joss’ offer to help, but after a moment just waved a hand at the pantry on the far side of the kitchen as she made her way back to the large island where she had pushed a red plastic cutting board holding a couple of chicken breasts out of George’s reach. “In there.”

  “Just sit tight, bud,” Joss told George as she took the bowl over to the pantry. She spotted the clear plastic bin with an airtight lid pushed into the corner that held George’s food as soon as she opened the door, and she groaned as she unlatched the lid and began scooping out the appropriate amount of food. “I’m sorry,” she apologized as she closed the food bin and used the heel of her foot to pull the pantry door closed, “I meant to bring her extra food back to you but I was in such a hurry that I forgot.”

  “No biggie. Just bring it next time.”

  Joss smiled at the idea of ‘next time’, and held up George’s bowl. “Where should I put this?”

  Maeve pointed with the meat mallet in her hand at the elevated wooden stand near the sliding glass doors in the breakfast nook where George was waiting with a regal air to be served. “There.”

  “You are too much, Georgie-girl,” Joss chuckled as she set the bowl into its cutout. She gave George’s side a quick pat before turning back to Maeve, and was surprised to see that she was watching her. “What?”

  Maeve shook her head and smiled. “Nothing. You’re good with her.”

  “Thank you, though it’s really not hard. George is pretty awesome.” Joss glanced over her shoulder at the canine in question, who was watching them as she chewed her food with all the sophistication of a ravenous toddler. Joss rolled her eyes and leaned her hip against the edge of the counter where Maeve was working. “Except for when she’s eating.”

  “Yeah, we’re still working on that,” Maeve murmured as she set the small metal hammer aside. “Do you like spinach artichoke dip?” she asked as she pulled a spoon from the drawer by her left hip.

  “I love it,” Joss admitted with a nod.

  “Good.” Maeve winked at Joss as she turned to pull a small, oblong container from the microwave in the island and set it beside the chicken. “Because that’s what I’m going to use to stuff the chicken.”

  Joss nodded as she watched Maeve drop a generous spoonful of the dip onto one of the chicken breasts. Maeve used the back of the spoon to push it into a line down the center of the flattened meat, and then set the spoon aside so she could fold the edges over the filling and secure the flaps with a couple of toothpicks. Maeve’s long, thin fingers deftly repeated the process with the second chicken breast, rolling and closing it up so the two breasts were identical, and she pushed the board back into the center of the island so she could wash her hands. With Maeve’s back turned to her, Joss’ gaze drifted to the tousled fall of hair cascading over her shoulders. She bit her lip as she was struck with an urge to sweep those luscious locks aside and pepper the side of Maeve’s throat with kisses, and she quickly looked away. Not that averting her gaze helped her much, because now she was looking at the delectable swell of Maeve’s ass in the jeans that seemed to be custom tailored to show it off, and her eyes zeroed in on a small hole above the right rear pocket that gave a peek-a-boo glimpse of crimson behind the denim.

  Fucking hell, Joss thought as she yanked her eyes higher, trying to find something safe to focus on, and she groaned silently when her eyes landed on Maeve’s. The skin on the back of her neck prickled at the way Maeve was looking at her, eyes dark with what she was sure had to be confusion because there was no way it could be anything else, and she swallowed hard as she asked as nonchalantly as possible, “Hmm?”

  “Nothing.” A small smile tugged at the corner of Maeve’s lips as she picked up an emerald green dishtowel and began drying her hands.

  Desperate for something to do that might keep her from making more of an ass of herself, Joss asked, “Can I help with anything?”

  “There’s really nothing to help with. You can go ahead and open the wine if you want.” Maeve waved the towel in her hand at the bottle Joss had brought that was sitting on the counter next to her. “All this should be done in half an hour or so.”

  “I can do that. Corkscrew?”

  “Center drawer in the island.”

  Joss opened the indicated drawer and, after scanning its contents, pulled out a corkscrew identical to the one she had at home. She used the tip of the metal screw to break the foil seal on the bottle, and tried to think of something they could talk about as she tore it free. “Did your niece like the books we picked out for her?”

  “She did.” Maeve nodded as she set a large skillet onto the stove. “She especially loved The Paper Bag Princess.”

  “Ah, so I did good, then.” Joss set the corkscrew over the mouth of the bottle and yanked the cork free. Maeve had chosen a handful of books to give as part of her niece’s present, but The Paper Bag Princess had been her own addition to the pile.

  “You did,” Maeve confirmed as she drizzled a couple tablespoons of olive oil into the pan. “Everybody loved it, actually.”

  “What’s not to love about a badass princess who saves the prince from a dragon?”

  “Never mind the ending,” Maeve agreed. “Between the book and all the pictures of George that you kept sending me, I think you made a bigger impact on the weekend than I did.”

  “I doubt that.” Joss looked around the kitchen. “Glasses?”

  “My family is pretty easy to win over,” Maeve argued amiably. She pointed to a cabinet beside the pantry. “Glasses are over there.”

  “They must be,” Joss teased as she retrieved two large goblets from the cabinet and set them on the island.
She picked the bottle of wine and poured a generous amount into each glass. “Here you go,” she said as she handed one to Maeve, who was standing at the stove. Their fingers brushed lightly together, and Joss bit the inside of her cheek to try to keep from physically reacting to the way her skin tingled from the brief contact.

  Maeve took a small sip as Joss retreated to her previous spot at the edge of the counter a handful of feet away from the stove. “Very nice. Would you mind if I use some of this to cook with?”

  “Go for it,” Joss said, shrugging as she picked up her own glass, grateful to have something besides Maeve to focus on. “So, your family likes silly pictures of dogs, huh?”

  “You have no idea,” Maeve said, and though Joss could not be sure, she thought she detected a hint of embarrassment in Maeve’s tone.

  “What?”

  “Nothing.” Maeve pulled a pair of tongs from a spinning tool caddy and set them on the counter beside the stove as she turned back toward Joss. She sipped at her wine and arched a brow expectantly. “So, fill me in more on what happened here while I was gone.”

  “There really wasn't anything that exciting.” Joss shook her head. “I mean, George and I sent you pictures of the highlights. It was just a lot of work and hanging out—no different than any other weekend, really.”

  “George behaved herself at the store?”

  “Oh yeah. I actually wanted to ask you if she could come visit again on the weekend sometime. The girl who was reading to her when you came to pick her up wanted to know when George would be back.”

  Maeve’s lips curled in a smile around the rim of her glass. “You may borrow her whenever you’d like. Just let me know, and if I can’t bring her over, you are always welcome to pick her up.”

  “Great. We’ll figure something out, then.”

  Maeve nodded, an indecipherable look flashing across her eyes as she set her glass back onto the counter and picked up her discarded tongs. Her hair fell in a curtain around her face as she flipped the chicken, and there was a slight husk in her voice when she agreed, “Yes. We’ll figure something out.”

  Sixteen

  “Your brothers seriously pushed you in the lake?” Joss arched a brow at Maeve as she spun the stem of her wine glass between her the pads of her thumb and middle finger. They were still at the table, their dirty plates sitting forgotten on the slate blue placemats in front of them as they talked. “I hope you got them back for that one.”

  “Oh, I did,” Maeve replied, her eyes twinkling with laughter. “If there is one thing you learn early in my family, it’s how to get revenge.”

  Joss lifted her glass to her lips. “I’m almost afraid to ask…”

  Maeve lifted her right shoulder in a small shrug and finished off the last of her wine. “I waited until we were all out on the lake yesterday afternoon so the kids could go tubing, and my brothers—of course—had to have a turn. Then it was just a matter of unhooking the tow line and leaving them floating in the middle of the lake.”

  “Oh my God.”

  Maeve grinned. “Yeah, that was a long swim into shore for them. Especially because they had to tow the giant tube back in with them. That thing ain’t light.”

  “Remind me not to piss you off,” Joss chuckled as Maeve’s phone rang.

  “I think you’re safe,” Maeve assured her with a laugh as she got up to check it. Her smile faltered when she glanced at the screen, the joy that had been so evident in her features replaced with an unmistakable insecurity, and she licked her lips as she looked back up at Joss. “It’s my editor. I’m so sorry, but I’ve got to take this.”

  Joss nodded. “I’m sure she loved it. Go talk to her, and I’ll start cleaning up.”

  “You don’t have to do that,” Maeve protested as her phone continued to ring.

  “Go talk to you editor, Maeve.” Joss got to her feet, leaned across the table to gather Maeve’s plate, and stacked it atop her own. “I’ve got this.”

  Maeve sighed and nodded. “Thank you.”

  “My pleasure. Go.”

  Maeve took a deep breath and swiped her thumb across the bottom of the screen as she turned toward the living room. “Amy. Hi.”

  Maeve’s voice faded as she wandered further from the kitchen, and Joss smiled to herself as she saw George climb off of the couch to follow her. “Good girl, George. Go take care of your mom,” she murmured as she carried the dishes to the sink.

  Joss was just finishing up drying the baking sheet that had used to roast the vegetables that had been the perfect side dish to their main course when Maeve and George returned to the kitchen. “So, how’d it go?”

  Maeve blew out a long breath and smiled as George yawned and flopped onto the ground at her feet. “Good. She loved it. I still have work to do, but she’s sending me her notes.”

  “Do you need me to go?” Joss offered as she set the baking sheet on the stove. She had already cleaned the pan Maeve had used to cook the chicken, so she wiped her hands dry on the dishtowel she had been using and set it on the counter beside the sink.

  “No.” Maeve shook her head. “I’ll start on it in the morning.” She looked around the kitchen. “I appreciate you doing the dishes, but I really would have been fine doing them later.”

  “Yeah, but now you don’t have to.”

  “You’re too much,” Maeve murmured. “Thank you.”

  “Thank you for a fantastic dinner,” Joss replied just as softly.

  Maeve glanced down at the counter for a moment before she looked back up at Joss through her eyelashes. “Would you like to go for a walk?”

  “Sure.”

  George scrambled to her feet and gave a mighty shake before she all but raced to the back door, and they both smiled at her antics as they followed her. Though Joss could not put her finger on why, Maeve seemed conflicted—or maybe it was just the aftereffect of finally hearing back on the story she had poured her heart and soul into over the last year—but whatever the case, Joss was grateful for the way George’s goofy excitement made her smile.

  As soon as the door opened enough for her to squeeze through, George bolted through the gap and out into the night, leaping off the patio and soaring with surprising agility over the stairs before she landed with a small stumble on the grass. She turned and looked at them, her body vibrating with anticipation as she waited for them to follow.

  Maeve shook her head at the dog as she waved a hand at the door. “After you…”

  The moon was full, providing more than enough light to keep track of George as she sprinted toward the lake and they followed at a more leisurely pace. Their hands would brush against each other every so often, first every sixth step, then fourth, then second, and Joss had to force herself to keep from turning hers by a fraction to “accidentally” let their fingers hook together.

  But damn, it was tempting.

  Joss bit her lip as she glanced over at Maeve, wishing she could read the whatever was going on behind her placid expression. Their hands brushed together again, and she could have sworn she saw the smallest uptick at the corner of Maeve’s lips.

  Did she just smile?

  Maeve’s eyes remained locked on the shadow of George, who was running in a wild zigzag patter ahead of them, and Joss sighed under her breath.

  Don’t be ridiculous. It’s just an accident.

  The thought made her heart sink even though she knew that her feelings for Maeve would never be reciprocated, and she took a deep breath as she forced herself to look for George.

  Get control of yourself, Perrault.

  George stopped at the edge of the lawn to pick something up, and Joss was not at all surprised when the Dane came bounding up to them a moment later with the tattered tennis ball they had played with during their runs all weekend in her mouth. George dropped the ball at Joss’ feet and then began inching away slowly, her head low, tail wagging in wide arcs as she waited for what she knew was coming next.

  Joss stared at George as she picked up the bal
l and tapped it against her left hand once before she wound up to heave it as far as she could into the night. She chuckled at the way George barked excitedly as she turned to give chase, and turned to smile at Maeve. “How long do you think until she finds it?”

  Maeve shrugged as she turned to look at Joss with a determined look in her eye. “Hopefully a while.”

  Joss could not look away from the way Maeve’s tongue slid slowly over her lips as she took a step closer, the cool night air warming to an unnatural degree as Maeve moved closer still. Citrus and amber mixed with the sweet scent of wild summer grasses as the breeze kicked up, stirring the air around them, and Joss stared, utterly transfixed by the way Maeve kept coming closer, closer, closer.

  She held her breath and tried to convince herself that this was not what it seemed, and yet—

  Her eyes snapped down to her side in surprise at the feeling of Maeve’s fingers ghosting down her forearm, goosebumps erupting across her skin in the wake of the hesitant touch. Her stomach clenched as Maeve’s hand encircled her wrist, and she swallowed thickly as she forced her gaze higher. She wanted to ask Maeve what she was doing, but the question died on her tongue as she watched Maeve’s head tilt ever-so-slightly to the right as she leaned in. The alluring scent of Maeve’s perfume surrounded her as the blonde's breath fell in ragged waves against her lips, and she closed her eyes as the urge to capture Maeve’s lips in a kiss that would ruin everything rocked through her.

  She’s so close…so close…

  Maeve’s thumb moved in short, hesitant strokes up and down the inside of Joss’ wrist, and her voice was rough and broken when she whispered, “Can I kiss you?”

  Joss snapped her eyes open to make sure she had really heard what she thought she had. Maeve’s expression was almost pained as she stared back at her. The hand around her wrist trembled as Maeve waited for her response, and even though Joss did not understand where any of this was coming from, she did not have the power to continue to deny herself what she wanted.

  Not when Maeve seemed to want it to.

 

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