"I'd love to dollop some punishment on her right now," I mutter through my fake smile, and he cracks up laughing. His laughter, it relaxes me somewhat. It says to me our dancing together ain't that bad. And it actually isn't. Now that we’re getting the rhythm down, it’s surprisingly easy.
"That's it, that's it. You have it. Now, just follow the room. Whatever the others are doing, just go with the flow," she cries.
"What others?" I question, but Jax takes her words to heart and starts moving me across the floor. The tempo of the music picks up, and he does the same, forcing me to move faster and follow along. We’re dancing so fast now we’re almost hopping, and I start giggling at our jerky movements.
"Jax," I cry through my laughter. "Slow down."
But that just causes him to go even faster.
"Jax," I protest again, and his laughter joins with mine, throwing off my count. I cain't keep the rhythm straight in my head anymore, and my feet miss a step, tangling with his and sending us both sprawling to the floor.
I land flat on my back, and he falls on toppa me, his arms planted on each side of me stops his fall, his face hanging just a breath above mine. His laughter makes his eyes sparkle with a thousand pinpoints of light. Those damn eyes. I stare into 'em, my own laughter catching in my throat. I ain't ever been this close to him before, so close that I realize his eyes are not the truest of blue like I believed 'em to be. Instead, I can see they’re flecked with tiny bits of gray, like storm clouds moving in on a sunny day.
"You're an idiot," I say a little breathlessly, and his eyes crinkle up at the corners.
"Aye, I have called myself that more than once these past few weeks," he says, his voice soft.
I smile at him then and startle at how his face changes. All the laughter fades away, and his eyes darken with some new emotion. He reaches down and touches my parted lips with his fingertips, outlining their shape.
"Has anyone ever told you how beautiful you are when you let your guard down and smile?" he says, and I suddenly feel like every breath of air is sucked outta my lungs.
My gut starts doing those stupid flip flops again, and my heart starts beating like I’m on the run from some wild wolfling. The way his finger is tracing my lips, well, I ain't quite sure if it’s pleasure or pain. Feels like every nerve ending is raw and exposed, and his touch is setting 'em on fire. I ain't quite sure what’s happenin’, but I do know I don't want it to end.
"Ahem…which one of ya messed up?"
I reluctantly tear my eyes away from Jax to find a pair of dirty, battered boots by my head. Talbert bends over us with inquisitive eyes, his black lips stretched tight in a wide grin.
"Which one of ya messed up? I bet Beanie a week's worth of cleanin' up the big cat's shite that the mistress would be the first to mess up. Was I right?" he asks Jax and then looks back down at me apologetically. "No offense, Mistress. Yer a woman of fine talents but dancin' ain't one of 'em."
"None taken, and yup it was me," I say and cain't help but laugh at Talbert's victorious whoops and his little two-step jig.
"Wot I tell ya? Beanie, my boy, get used to bein' the shite shoveler fer a bit."
Normally, that woulda pissed me off. But not this time. Not today. I'm still grinning like a fool as Jax pulls me to my feet, his hand holding mine a little longer than necessary before he lets go.
"Back to work?" he suggests, and I shrug, belying the excitement I feel at knowing I would be spending most of my day in his arms.
7
The Tea Party
I’m truly sick of the word "practice." It just never seems to end. Between the dancing, the sparring, the weaponry, the walking, the table manners, and hell, Tater even had me practicing talking. What the hell is wrong with the way I talk? I know I don't want to end up speaking like him with his big, fancy words that nobody can understand. He’d even taken to calling me his "Eliza Doolittle" at times, whoever the hell that is. Thank gods it hadn't lasted long, though. After of couple of days of him instructing me, "Repeat after me. Cain't is not a word. Can't or cannot. Ain't is not a word. Isn't or is not," he’d finally given up and told me to play shy and let Jax do all the talking. Fine by me.
I guess it ain't all bad though; the practice keeps me busy. Busy enough to keep my mind from driving me crazy with worry for Ben and Lily. Now Jax? That is a whole other story. I have no idea what’s happening there. What he’d said to me that day of our fall, the way he’d touched me, well, there ain't been nuthin' remotely close to that happening again. Oh, he’s still the same Jax, joking and teasing and irritating, but that softer side of him ain't shown itself no matter how hard I looked for it. There ain't been no nice words or soft touches. Hell, even when we’re dancing, it’s almost like he’s afraid to hold me too close. I don’t know what has changed since our first dance lesson. Had he been playing a game with me, or is it the guilt of Sky that’s making him keep his distance? Maybe it don't mean nuthin' at all, and I’m the only one putting any stock into what he’d done. Maybe to him, it was just a simple comment and nuthin' more. I ain't got any idea, and I sure as hell ain't found the nerve yet to ask.
The thought of Jax still runs rampant in my head as I lay on the soft, sweet-smelling grass of Mack's back garden, letting the sun's warmth almost lull me asleep. It was one of those rare moments when no one was demanding my attention. No sparring, no dancing, no nuthin'. Mack was off doing whatever he did. Tater and Duchess had gone into the city in search of some material for costumes for this stupid masquerade party. I wanted nuthin' to do with that. Beanie and Talbert, I didn't know and didn't care what they were up to as long as they ain't bothering me. It was just me and the boy and the cat. It was nice.
I watch Finn and Cat as they try in vain to catch the little fish jumping outta the massive fish pond built in the middle of this "garden." Cat is immersed in the shallow pond up to her belly and waits patiently for her prey. I laugh out loud as one tiny fish seems to jump and brazenly slap Cat on the lips as she nips at it and misses, causing the big black beast's eyes to open wide in disbelief and growl in frustration. I swear sometimes that creature is more human than I am.
I ain't aware the object of my thoughts is anywhere near me 'til a shadow falls over my face as he blocks out the sun.
"Been looking all over for you," he says as he sprawls beside me on the grass. I turn my face from him and blame the flush rising in my cheeks on the fireball above our heads.
"Well, you found me," I say, pretending I couldn't care less one way or the other. "So why you botherin' me?"
He chuckles softly.
"Is that any way to greet someone who comes bearing gifts?" he says, drawing my attention to him. I sit up. He is indeed carrying something wrapped in a piece of cloth, and I watch as he unwraps it to show me the three lumps of brown, well, I ain't quite sure what it is. But it sure as hell don't look like anything I would call a gift.
"Aye, I can see why you’re eager to share that with me," I say, but he ignores my sarcasm.
"Here, eat it," he says as he tries to shove a dark glob at me.
I shake my head. "Nuh uh. I ain't eatin' that shite. 'Cause that's exactly what it looks like."
He shrugs at me.
"Suit yourself," he says and pops a hunk into his mouth while I watch in disgusted disbelief. Finn has noticed Jax's arrival and comes trotting over to plop himself down between us.
"Oh, gods, is that what I think it is, Jax?" he says eagerly. "Can I have some?"
"Aye," says Jax and hands one hunk to Finn.
Wait, am I missing something here? How come Finn knows what it is but I don't?
"What is that then?" I say, but Jax grins at me, showing me his brown-stained teeth.
"Since you don't want any, you don't need to know. More for us, right, Finn?"
"It's called choc-a-let, least that's what I think Coral called it. She gave me some yesterday, and it’s soooooooo good. You gotta try it, Tara."
I reach for the last remaining piece
with hesitant fingers, but Jax hauls it outta my reach.
"Nope, too late. You said you didn't want any." He pretends he's gonna eat it himself, but I snatch it outta the cloth.
"Jackass," I say. I raise it to my mouth but stop with it halfway there. "You sure you two ain't lyin' to me? This actually tastes good?"
"Yes, I swear." Jax grins at my distrust. "Now eat it already before it melts all over your fingers."
Too late for that, I notice, so I toss the whole thing into my mouth before I can change my mind. My eyes scrunch up, waiting for some cruel joke to kick in, but as soon the taste touches my tongue, they pop back open in amazement.
"Oh my gods," I try to say around the melting slice of heaven in my mouth. "This is … this is so … oh my gods."
Why have I never known about this choc-a-let before? The rich, sweet creaminess feels so indulgent and sinful as it melts in my mouth. My pleasure leaves me speechless as I savor every bite, trying to make the taste last longer. Finally, I swallow the delicacy and then lick the remaining traces offa my fingers.
"Do you have more?" I say to Jax, but he shakes his head, grinning as he reaches over and wipes the corner of my mouth with the cloth in his hand.
"See what happens if you trust me a little? I'm full of surprises."
"Aye, well, you're full of something all right," I drawl as I knock the cloth away, and Finn snorts into his hand. Jax scowls at him and then pulls him into a loose headlock, making the boy howl in protest. The ruckus catches Cat's attention. She runs over, fish pond forgotten, and leaps on toppa 'em, trying to get in on the fun. Her waterlogged fur covers 'em both like some wet blanket, making 'em yell at her, "Get off!" She does as they say but then does what every wet animal tends to do: she shakes herself dry. Sitting behind the two boys, I’m pretty much protected from the onslaught of water, spittle, and mud that otherwise coats the two in fronta me.
Oh, my gods. I start laughing. I cain't help it. The look of disgust on their faces, it cracks me up something fierce. I laugh so hard tears roll down my cheeks, and I gotta hold my stomach it's hurting so bad.
"Oh, you think this is funny, do you?" Jax drawls dangerously low as he peers at me through narrowed eyes. Since I truly cain't talk right now, I only nod.
"Yeah? I'll show you funny," he says.
I should have known what he was up to from the dangerous look on his face. Before I can run, he scoops me up in his arms and starts heading for the pond.
"Jax! Don't you dare," I shriek, knowing what's coming.
He keeps going, ignoring my frantic kicking and screaming.
"Put me down. Stop!"
He dangles me over the pond.
"Put me down or else, jackass," I say.
"Or else what? What you gonna do to me, Tara?"
His question is innocent enough, but it makes my body quiver as he stares at me. My laughter dies away as I realize my arms are twined tightly around his neck, and I can feel his heart bumping frantically against mine, making it feel like one single beat. My fingers itch to run through his wet hair and wipe the glistening water droplets from his skin.
"Well? What you gonna do to me?" he says a little lower this time, and his eyes stare into mine, full of suggestion.
I feel my breath catch in my throat. "Jax," I protest softly.
"Tara," he mocks.
"Argh!" The scream leaves my lips as we both hit the water, and I swallow some of the foul stuff before I manage to sit up, sputtering.
"What the—?" Jax is taken as much by surprise as I am by the cold dunk. Finn is bent over at the edge of the pond, slapping his knee and laughing his fool head off. The little stink turd had pushed us both in.
"Now that," he says in between hysterical bouts of laughter and pointing at us, "that's funny."
"You little shite head!" Jax bellows, and before Finn can run, he’s grabbed by the ankle and yanked into the pond with us, his startled gasp at the cold water quickly followed by squeals of laughter.
"Take that,' Jax teases, slamming his palm down flat on the water, causing it to splash Finn in the face. The boy retaliates by grabbing a handful of mud from the pond's murky bottom and splatters us both, starting an all-around water fight. It ain't long before Cat jumps in, and our shrieks at almost being squished by the massive beast echo all over the back gardens.
"What the hell?" Mack roars as he comes barreling through the garden, concern written all over his face and his hand hovering above his shooter. He stops short at what he sees, shaking his head in shock. For some reason, he don't look as amused as the rest of us.
"Really? And to think the future of our rebellion may lie in the hands of you three idiots. Get your damned arses outta my fish pond and inside to freshen up. Have you all forgotten that we have to attend high tea this afternoon? You better learn to take this seriously, or we will fail with this plan of ours. Do you understand what I’m saying?"
Shite, I did forget about the tea we had to go to. Tea of all things. Apparently, our living at Mack's was becoming public knowledge now amongst the island's elite, and people were getting curious. They were asking to meet the captain's kin. As much as none of us wanted to do this, Mack included, we knew we couldn't keep turning down the invites. It would only arouse more suspicion, and we cain't have anyone asking questions.
Mack stomps off without waiting for an answer as we all look around at each other with sheepish expressions. He was right; as much as this idea of afternoon tea is stupid, it was also a test of what we had learned so far. Being able to fool these people into thinking we belonged may make all the difference in our plan succeeding, so I try to stay serious and hold it in, but I cain't help but laugh when Jax crosses his eyes and sticks out his tongue at Mack's back.
"I heard that," Mack bellows over his shoulder. "And I said move!"
We don't dare disobey. We move.
I … cain't … even. This is how these people spend their days? Sitting in overstuffed, over-perfumed, sweltering rooms pretending like they’re all so interested in each other and the city's problems but really are there just to criticize what the other is wearing. If I have to hear one more story about how some missus was dressed for tea last week, I’m gonna scream.
I cover my yawn with a hand and pull at the neck of my new outfit Coral had dressed me in this afternoon. Ugh. I wanna get this over with so I can get outta these suffocating clothes. Why is it so damned hot in here? And why cain't I be sitting with the men? At least they looked like they’re talking about interesting stuff. I can even hear Jax chuckling ever so often. But noooooo, I’m stuck here with … what are these women's names again? The old gramma, her name is Missus Camon, and the other one—the one who has been eyeballing Jax all afternoon like he’s a slab of meat—is Missus Bots. No, Bodes. That’s it. Apparently, she’s a new widow, according to the gramma, but from the way she’s staring and flirting with Jax, I reckon she’s trying to remedy that real quick. And I'm pretty sure Jax was introduced earlier as my betrothed, but it don't seem to make any difference to the slag.
"Would you care for some more tea, Miss Sara?" I ain't even aware the old gramma is talking to me at first. I musta blocked out their irritating droning about this one's terrible dress and that one's awful hair. Finn bumps my knee with his, bringing me back to the present and making me remember that by saying Sara, she’s referring to me. Mack had insisted on us not using our real names in public just to be on the safe side. Sara, Jackson, and Quinn had been the names recorded at the wall to Skytown, so that's who we are now.
"Yes, please. That would be lovely," I say to the gramma, remembering Tater's "correct response" training. She bends over, her blue-veined hands reaching for the most delicate glass teapot I’ve ever seen. It’s a pale yellow with flowers etched all around the base and up the spout. I woulda been afraid to touch it. I was used to tea being made in a tin pot over a campfire. I somehow doubt these missus have ever seen a campfire, let alone a tin pot, in their lives.
"Another sweet cak
e, boy?"
Finn's eyes light up with delight as he mutters, "Yes please, ma'am," and then proceeds to stuff his mouth while I watch on, annoyed.
I would like to have another one too, but since I ain't offered, I figured it would be impolite just to take it. Stupid city people and their society rules.
"So, my dear, I assume you have all received your invite to this year's social event?" gramma says to me, but I just stare back at her, puzzled.
"Huh?" I say, but another nudge from Finn has me stammering to cover it. "Uh, s-sorry, ma'am?"
"The Prezedant's masquerade ball of course. Surely any kin of the captain has an invitation?"
"Oh, aye. I mean, yes, we did," I say, taking a huge sip of the still hot tea so as I don't have to talk no more. It causes me to burn the roof of my mouth all the way down to my gut. I start coughing, and Finn pounds my back. I hope my choking will somehow stop the questions but no such luck. She simply waits for me to catch my breath and then goes right on talking like I almost just didn't die.
"Oh, isn't it exciting? We all look forward to this every year. He throws such marvelous parties, doesn't he, Clara dear?" Gramma addresses the slag who cain't take her eyes offa Jax.
What is wrong with that woman? She’s worse than a cat in heat. True, Jax did clean up real nice. With his hair all slicked back, and the whiskers on his face cut down to just stubble, and wearing that new shirt and trousers, he looks like he fits in here. More so than me, I think as I pull at my neckline again, coughing some more. But still, ain't that woman got any sense of decency? I wanna yank her ogling eyes right outta her head.
"Wonderful indeed," the slag answers, the corner of her mouth turning up in a weird sorta grin. "Especially the extracurricular activities."
New Bloods Boxset Page 39
