Call Her Mine

by Lydia Michaels

  He slowly lowered himself to the couch. Delilah didn’t think she should turn the TV back on. She sat back and caught her breath. She didn’t expect him to overreact like that.

  “How about a beer?”

  He was quiet and she sensed he was embarrassed. “I think we should get some sleep. We have a busy day ahead of us.”

  She frowned. She was tired, but…she wanted to show Christian her world. She didn’t want to sleep. Looking at the clock she noticed it was getting late. He was probably right. “Okay.”

  They went into her room and she pulled back the covers. Christian studied her from the door. “Aren’t you coming to bed?”

  “I did not know if that was what you wanted,” he said quietly.

  “Since when do you ask?” He winced and she felt guilty. That was a little below the belt she supposed. Sighing, she patted the bed. “Come on, I don’t want to sleep alone. I’ve gotten used to you.”

  He hesitantly smiled. The lights shut off and Christian removed his clothing. He climbed between the covers and pulled her close, pressing a kiss on her shoulder. She reached for his hand and patted his fingers. They lay silently in the dark for a while and she wasn’t sure if he had fallen asleep or not.

  “Christian?”

  “Yes, Delilah.”

  “Yesterday in the woods…” His grip on her tightened. “You didn’t hurt me. I just…”

  “I know,” he whispered. “I have much to make up for. You do not need to explain. I am quite aware of my short comings.”

  The unfavorable way he spoke of himself made her heart sting. She wanted him to understand she was beginning to care for him. But there was still a lot to come to terms with. Being in her home, in her bed, did not make things any easier.

  Seeing her old life made everything so much more complicated. She wanted to go home and leave all this confusion behind, but she didn’t know where home was anymore.

  * * * *

  Christian awoke in an empty bed in an unfamiliar room. He sensed Delilah close and breathed in her presence, finding unprecedented comfort in her nearness.

  “This afternoon would be fine,” she said softly from the other room.

  He frowned. He didn’t sense anyone else in the apartment. Standing, he found his pants and pulled them on. When he entered the main room of the home she was sitting on a chair in the kitchen with the phone to her ear. She held a pen in her hand and doodled on a pad of paper. When she saw him she smiled.

  “Yes, I will be there at four. And, again, I am so sorry for the inconvenience.”

  He frowned again as he heard a male voice coming from the receiver pressed to her ear. Who was she talking to?

  “All right. I’ll see you then.” She sighed and hung up the phone. “That was one of my customers. He said he could meet us at four. I feel bad. He wanted a lot of work and would have paid me a lot of money to do it.”

  Yet another thing that was his fault. Christian remained silent.

  She stood and her appearance took his breath away. She wore a black and white narrow striped dress that brushed the tops of her knees and exposed her shoulders. The waist was synched with a wide, patent leather red belt that matched the color she had painted on her lips. Her eyes were also done up with coal and on her feet she wore shiny red shoes with tall heals. She looked…stunning.

  “I need to talk to my landlord. He’s kind of an asshole. Do you think you could come with me?”

  His brow pulled tight. Why would she assume she would be going alone? “Of course.”

  She took a deep breath and turned to the phone then back to him. Her hair was twisted in various directions and pinned so that a cute bump formed in the front. She appeared frazzled.

  “Today’s going to be hard.”

  “What needs to be done?”

  Her head lowered as she picked up the notepad she’d been scribbling on. “I need to move all of my equipment into storage. We’ll have to get boxes at the store. I need to contact the gas company and arrange to have my utilities shut off and…” Her voice drifted away.

  “Delilah, you do not have to do all of this today. We could come back.”

  She pressed her red lips together and shook her head tightly. “I don’t want to do that. You said I couldn’t be here. It isn’t safe for our kind. It hurts too much, all this back and forth. I just want to figure out where I’m going and get there. Can we…I don’t have a lot of money. Could you spot me some so that I can at least get a storage unit until I decide what to do with all my stuff?”

  Her cheeks blushed as though the question embarrassed her. “I will give you whatever you need. Your things here can come with us if you like.”

  Her gaze lifted to his and he tried not to wince at the sheen of tears in her eyes. “Really?”

  “Of course. Delilah, I do not expect you to abandon all of your possessions.”

  “I thought…”

  “Electronics have no purpose on the farm. Your clothing will not be used either, aside from some personal items, but if there are belongings that bring you comfort, by all means, bring them.”

  Or stay with them, he wanted to say, but was too selfish to give her that option.

  He hated forcing her to leave the world she was comfortable in and drag her to a place she hated. Since her episode in the woods he had been second-guessing the entire purpose of their journey. Perhaps he was wrong in making her stay with him. Perhaps he should offer her the choice.

  “Why do you look like that?”

  “Pardon?” He glanced back at her, wondering if he missed something.

  “You just got the saddest expression on your face.”

  He shook his head. “It is nothing. I was just thinking.”

  She blinked at him and the silence thickened around them. The moment grew awkward and she finally said, “Well, we better get moving if you want to keep your schedule.”

  She brushed past him and he gently grabbed her arm, stilling her progress. She gazed up at him expectantly. His thumb traced over the spattering of dandelion seeds tattooed on her arm permanently suspended in time as they blew off of the flower.

  “We do not have a schedule, Delilah. Take as long as you need.”

  She blinked several times, the whites of her eyes turning a shade pinker. “Thank you,” she rasped.

  He released his hold and she walked into the other room.

  * * * *

  Delilah had said they needed to put the money in the bank so that there was a paper trail for tax purposes. She had a business sense about her so Christian did not interfere with her method of thinking. He handed her the money as she parked her car in the lot of the small commercial establishment.

  She dug in her bag for a bank slip and a pen then stared at the stack of bills in his hand, jerking her gaze to the windows and back at him. “Holy crap! How much is there, Christian?”

  “It is ten thousand dollars. I was not sure if you would have other expenses.”

  She quickly pressed his hand lower. “You’ve been walking around with ten grand? Are you crazy?”

  “You said you needed money.”

  “A couple hundred. Jeeze! You can’t carry all that.”

  “That is why we are at the bank. You can put it into your account.”

  “They’re gonna think I robbed someone.”

  “Why?”

  She shook her head. “Never mind.”

  Her hand shook as she filled out the slip. They entered the establishment, which smelled clean with the fragrance of paper. Delilah was antsy and fidgeted as they made their way to the teller.

  The female at the counter counted the money quickly and printed out a receipt. There seemed an awful lot of devices and such required for storing English money. On the farm they simply kept their money in the pantries and gave the extra to the bishop to store.

  “I’m hungry,” Delilah said as they climbed back into the car. English vehicles were small and stuffy. They rolled down the windows and drove to an eatery wit
h large yellow arches over the sign. “I’m gonna get a salad and a shake. What do you want?”

  “Should we not leave the car?”

  “No. It’s a drive through. You order from the window. They have sandwiches, nuggets, salads, pick your poison.”

  “What is a shake?”

  “A milkshake. It’s blended ice cream.”

  “It is a drink?”

  “Yeah. You want one?”

  “Yes.”

  “And what about food?” she asked.

  “I will have a sandwich.”

  She drove through a narrow path and talked to a box. It sounded as though the voice spoke back in a different language, but Delilah had no problem communicating with the squawking voice. They drove to a window and passed money from the car to a mortal wearing a silly hat and looking quite miserable.

  “Where do we eat? Are there tables?” he asked as they waited at the next window.

  A delicious smelling bag was handed to Delilah. She passed it to him. It was warm and heavy on his lap. His mouth watered. She then handed him two cold, waxy cups and pulled away.

  She parked in a spot next to a line of other cars. “We eat here. The tables inside are gross.”

  She wrenched the paper sack from his lap and dug out a paper wrapped parcel. “Here,” she said, handing it to him and retrieving a container filled with salad for herself.

  He watched as she dressed her salad and tore open a clear wrapper with an odd shaped fork.

  “Are you going to eat?” She tilted her chin toward the hot parcel he held.

  Christian unwrapped the paper and found a greasy sandwich. It looked like a patty of beef. Sauces and orange cheese seeped from the sides. It smelled wonderful. He sniffed and took a bite. Flavor burst in his mouth. “It is good,” he mumbled as he chewed.

  “I’m lovin’ it,” Delilah sung.

  They ate in the cramped car in silence. She plugged the cups with two fat straws and handed him his ‘shake’. The veins behind his eyes pulsed as he tried to suck the thick shake through the straw. It was work, but the sweet, chilled cream that filled his mouth when it finally made its slow chug up the straw was well worth it.

  Delilah closed the lid of her salad and sighed. “I feel better now. Did you have enough?”

  His stomach was full, but he could eat ten more of those delightful little sandwiches. At least he still had his shake. “It was very good. Thank you.”

  She adjusted the gearshift and backed out of the lot. There was so much traffic in the city. He found it loud and overwhelming. Some buildings were so tall he had to arch his neck in order to find the blue sky. He was beginning to miss his home, but did not want to rush Delilah.

  Several minutes later they pulled into an unmarked building that looked like a home, but had a sign on the front that said Ralph McLeay. She shut off the engine of the car and sighed. He sensed she was not pleased to be there.

  “What is this place?” he asked.

  “This is my dickhead landlord’s. You’ll come in with me, right?”

  He liked that she wanted him there to support her. “Of course. Why do you not like this man?”

  “I just don’t. He gives me the creeps. Talks down to me like I’m an idiot and once he made some suggestion about making my rent that I wasn’t real sure about, but I think he was offering to let me pay in other ways, if you know what I mean.”

  He frowned. “Other ways?”

  “Yeah, you know, like I scratch his back he scratches mine…”

  Understanding dawned and Christian’s jaw clenched. “He asked you for marital favors?”

  “Well, I wouldn’t call it that. I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t have been doing any favors to his wife. Although…he is gross. I may have been lending her a hand and saving her a nasty chore—if I had said yes.”

  This Mr. McLeay had made his mate uncomfortable with his unacceptable suggestions. Christian decided in that moment he did not like this man, but he would not harm him so long as he did not witness any such inappropriate comments. However, if Christian did detect the slightest disrespect to Delilah from this mortal, he was quite certain he would kill the man. “Let us go visit Mr. McLeay.”

  She was again shaking when she climbed out of the car. Christian didn’t like seeing her so intimidated and he knew that was what it was. She was afraid. His protective instincts kicked in as they walked to the building’s entrance.

  Delilah opened the door without ringing a bell or knocking. The establishment was clean, but reeked of cigar smoke. His nose crinkled at the distasteful smell.

  They stepped through clear glass doors and came upon a woman at a desk. She appeared to be about thirty years old with red hair and wire rimmed glasses. Her mouth opened as she looked up at him.

  “I’m here to see Ralph,” Delilah announced.

  The woman at the desk did not acknowledge Delilah. “May I help you, sir?” she asked, her voice breathless. Christian frowned.

  A shrill, sharp whistle came from his mate. “Hey, sister, I’m over here. You don’t worry about the pretty man candy. He’s taken.”

  The woman at the desk turned and scowled at Delilah. “Mr. McLeay is in a meeting.”

  “We’ll wait.”

  Delilah took a seat in one of the three chairs lined up against the wall. Christian sat beside her. The woman at the desk continued to stare at him, making him uncomfortable.

  “Can I offer you some coffee?” she asked, her voice again breathless.

  Christian thought of his shake in the car and wished he had brought it inside.

  “I’ll take a cup,” Delilah said. She was acting different. Possessive, he thought. Christian hid a smirk. He liked it.

  The woman at the desk huffed and stood. A few moments later she returned with a foam cup filled with black liquid. “Here,” she said, with little regard to how the liquid sloshed close to the rim of the cup over Delilah’s lap.

  Delilah smiled sweetly and batted her eyes. “Why, thank you. That will be all.” She took the cup, sipped gently from the rim, and fanned her fingers at the other woman. “Go on now, scoot. I’m sure you’re very busy.”

  The woman’s lips pressed tightly together as she pivoted on her heel and returned to her desk. Christian sensed her gaze returning to him every so often, but kept his gaze on the stack of magazines spread on the table to his right.

  He started at the touch of Delilah’s fingers to his ears. “Are you okay, baby? You’re being awfully quiet.”

  Baby? He faced her and frowned. Her voice was raspy. Her touch was blatantly suggestive and her eyes had taken on a smoky quality. Arousal punched through him. What was she doing?

  “Are you all right, Delilah?”

  “Oh, I’m very well, Christian,” she purred. He sensed the woman at the desk staring at them again. His mate’s fingers tickled at his collar and slid slowly down his arm and onto his lap.

  “I was thinking,” she continued, her hand making soft circles on his upper thigh. “After this, we might go back to bed for a bit. If you’re still hungry, I’m sure we could find you something to eat.”

  His brow tightened as his eyes widened. He jerked his gaze to the woman at the desk whose cheeks were red and her mouth hung open. Christian’s body tightened uncomfortably and he shifted.

  “Delilah, what are you doing?” he whispered.

  Her hand slid dangerously close to the bulge in his pants. “I was just remembering how good you took care of me the last time…” she blushed and Christian was not amused.

  He stilled her hand and returned it to her lap. However, he understood a bit more when he heard the woman at the desk snigger. The color in Delilah’s face had faded and he noticed the slight way her lower lip trembled.

  What are you trying to do, pintura?

  Nothing! Her inner voice snapped back at him and her arms crossed as she retreated as far to the left side of her chair as possible.

  Perhaps if you tell me, I can help you, he sent the thought to her.r />
  You won’t. Forget it. It was stupid. Never mind.

  He frowned and pressed into his mate’s mind. Visions of the woman at the desk, only younger, were at the forefront. She had a short skirt on and her skin was much more youthful. Her hair had been closer to blond then as well, but he recognized the vision as a younger version of the woman at the desk.

  She was taunting Delilah in the memory. They were in a schoolyard and Delilah was younger as well. She did not have tattoos. Her hair was down and plain and her skin showed freckles over the bridge of her nose. Her eyes wore entirely too much make up, but even the black liner did not disguise the tears in them.

  “What’s wrong, Morticia? You didn’t actually think Bobby would want to go out with someone like you, did you?” The younger vision of the woman at the desk laughed cruelly and Christian felt the sting of forgotten humiliation resurrect itself in Delilah’s mind.

  “Bite me, Meghan. He’s only with you because you put out.”

  Christian’s eyes moved to the nameplate on the desk. The woman’s name was in fact Meghan.

  He returned to Delilah’s mind and heard young Meghan laugh nastily. “Don’t be jealous because no one wants to look at you. While they’re all dying to get in my pants, they’re praying you keep yours on. It’s a shame. You would have thought the ugly duckling theory would have applied to you, but you just keep getting uglier and uglier. Good luck with that.”

  Young Meghan pivoted on her heel so much like the aged version of her had done only minutes ago, and marched off. He sensed the pain Delilah was experiencing at this memory and did not like it.

  Christian faced the woman at the desk and appraised her. She was nothing particularly special to look at. He turned to his mate. She was beautiful. Her knee bounced anxiously as her gaze bore into the closed double doors behind the woman’s desk. She nibbled her lower lip and her spine was stiff.

  “Did I ever tell you about the first time I saw you,” he whispered loud enough for Meghan to hear. Delilah’s knee stilled.

  “You were sitting next to that man at the bar. I knew he wanted to be intimate with you, because you were obviously the most beautiful female in the room. The first thing I noticed were your eyes. I loved the way they shined under the dim blue lights. Next I noticed the gentle curve of your neck. You were perfect. I’ve seen many beautiful things in my life, Delilah, but you took my breath away.