But Nina simply thumped her on the back like it was an everyday occurrence, one getting mentally abused by the psychologist in charge of mending them.
“S’all good, Doc. You were just doin’ what I told you to. Hit all the buttons everybody expects to hit when they wanna make me crazy. It’s fine.”
“Goddess, I hate Artem,” she spat. It was going to be a long time before she was able to forget what she’d done this afternoon.
But Nina tilted her chin, her fingers going to the still-red lashes streaked across January’s throat before flashing a look of guilt. “Damn. Did I hurt you, Doc? How’s your neck?”
But January flapped her hands at Nina, dismissing her concern. “It’s fine. Forget me.”
Nina looked at her for a long moment, a moment where she conveyed with her eyes there really were no hard feelings. “Look, Doc, here’s the good news. Grampire Galen gets to live because of what you did today, right? It’s all part of the bigger picture and all for the greater fucking good. You’re just tryin’ to save your boy-toy, and my ass along with him. No skin off my nose. We did it for the show this wank Artem wants so bad.”
But that wasn’t entirely true, and if she did nothing else, she was going to help Nina understand that just because she was no longer a vampire, that changed nothing for anyone but her.
Yet, she couldn’t help but praise Nina, too. “You were amazing. You all were. I mean, if I didn’t know better, if we hadn’t pre-planned that little show, I’d have never known you were acting.”
Nina winced again as she assessed January’s neck. “I got caught the fuck up in keepin’ shit real. Sorry about that, Doc. Five Red Bulls and three cups of coffee’ll do that to ya. I wanted to be in the moment, ya know? For reality’s sake.”
“I’ve prepared something soothing for your throat, Dr. Malone,” Archibald said, zipping in from the kitchen of the house Ingrid had rented under a fake name for the weekend.
It was an amazing log cabin with wide decks sprouting along the back, off each bedroom. Nestled in the trees, the cabin sported six bedrooms—one for each couple, and two spare bedrooms for Carl, Archibald and Darnell, and Ingrid and Teddy. The setting was peaceful and soothing, situated in front of a roaring brook, but secluded enough by the fully bloomed foliage.
January took the tea from Arch gratefully, smiling her thanks.
“Now, Dr. Malone, do drink all of it. I think you’ll find between your very clever familiar Farley and myself, we’ve whipped up something that will surely soothe all your aches.”
“You’ve met Farley?” She’d had a feeling Archibald and Farley would hit it off, just by sheer age and nurturing qualities, but especially due to their love of cooking.
“Aye, lass,” Farley acknowledged in his Scottish brogue, his broad chest expanding as he smiled, his fiery-red beard, neatly trimmed, spreading up to brush his cheeks. “We have indeed. And my new friend is correct. This brew will surely fix what ails ya.”
She took a sip of the tea and found a quiet spot in a rocking chair by the dormant fireplace to watch the chaos around her. After the day they’d had, she needed a moment to get her bearings back.
Galen caught her eye from across the room as he fed a sleepy Calista her bottle, making her heart clench with love. When he crossed the room, Calista on his shoulder, she patted the rocking chair next to hers.
Leaning down, he dropped a kiss on her forehead before he settled into the chair, stroking Calista’s tiny back, her chubby legs slowly relaxing against his chest.
“Heard you had a tough day, Doc Malone. Wanna talk about it?”
Stupidly, her eyes filled with tears she had to swipe away with her thumb. “I hated that hour more than I’ve hated almost anything in my life, Galen. Maybe almost more than I hate Artem for what he’s doing to us.”
Reaching over, he scooped her hand up in his larger one and pressed it to his lips. “You didn’t do it to be cruel, honey.”
“I know, but…still. I just want this to be over. Over and done so we can hopefully get on with our lives. All of us. Together.”
“That’s the plan,” he murmured, nuzzling Calista’s cheek with his nose.
“You’re still not sure about this plan, are you?”
“I’m not sure about anything, honey. I’m pretty sick with worry that when they try to plant that recording device, they’ll get caught. Artem’s not an idiot. This close to the summit, he’s going to be extra sharp. And what if he doesn’t say anything that’s of use to us anyway?”
She swallowed more of her tea, noting it was indeed incredibly soothing, then she rolled her eyes. “Please. You don’t think a man like Artem isn’t going to gloat with his henchman this close to the summit, do you? It’s his big day. Of course he’s going to talk about it. Take it from someone who knows the type of personality Artem is. I do have a degree in psychology. Artem’s a narcissist, an egotist, a full-on sociopath. He’ll talk about it; he’ll likely make a toast about it. He’ll pat himself on the back about it. He’ll be busy drilling his platform into his goons’ heads until the word go. That much you can trust.”
“I wish they’d let me go with them, do something. I feel a little useless here.”
“We can’t afford for Artem to find you anywhere near his place, Galen. We have to be very, very careful at this point. If nothing else, he doesn’t know Darnell or Teddy or Ingrid. No matter what, we stick with the plan, right?”
“No matter what,” he repeated, but it was a canned response that left her frightened he’d take matters into his own hands. They’d spent so much time planning this, carefully outlining all the details, she needed extra reassurance.
“Swear it to me, Galen. We stay here while they go in. No crazy acts of bravery,” she pleaded. “For my sake…for Calista’s.”
His eyes captured hers. “I swear, no crazy acts of bravery. I’m here with you and our girl for the duration.”
Breathing a sigh of relief, she smiled at him as he rocked their daughter, January’s love swelling, strengthening, growing each time she saw the pair like this. “Farley told me what our genius daughter said today just before I got here.”
Galen knew exactly what she was referring to when he smiled smugly at her. “You mean how our rocket scientist here called me Da-Da for the first time ever?”
January grinned at his smile of pride, reaching over to stroke Calista’s dark brown curls as she slept. “Yeah. That. I can’t believe she didn’t say mommy first. This is the thanks I get for spitting her from my vagina after thirty-eight agonizing hours of un-medicated labor? Imagine this ungrateful cur at fifteen.”
“I imagine it all the time, honey. All the time,” Galen said, burying his face in the top of Calista’s head and squeezing January’s hand.
They rocked together for a long time—as the sun faded and the coming night prevailed, reveling in each other’s company, in just being a family. Something they’d done so rarely since she’d had Calista.
As everyone prepared for their roles for the next evening, as Arch and Farley and Darnell swapped cooking tips, Carl read Goodnight Moon to little Charlie and Hollis to keep them distracted, and the OOPS girls’ men sat with their wives and talked softly about what was to come, January closed her eyes and sent up a prayer.
That someday they’d all be able to do this again.
Together.
Each and every last one of them alive and well.
* * * *
“What is all this?” January breathed to Nina, Marty, and Wanda, her eyes scanning the long deck just outside the sliding glass doors of the cabin’s kitchen. Trees surrounded the space, making it feel like you were sequestered in a secret treehouse hideaway.
Lights twinkled from the big red umbrella over a rectangular glass patio table, and candles burned all along the railing of the deck, their flames blue and orange. Something classical played on a phone, and Archibald and Farley were both on hand with wide smiles on their faces.
A bottle of wine sat
chilling in a makeshift ice bucket someone had made from a KFC bucket, and one glass of what January guessed was blood sat next to it.
Nina winked, pulling out one of the patio chairs for her. “A little birdie told us you and Romeo haven’t had any time alone together in months. We figured you two needed some love-muffin time. Seeing as little miss here is ready for bed anyway…we thought you might wanna get your romance on.” She wiggled her fingers at January, indicating she should hand Calista over.
Both January and Galen responded simultaneously. “But—”
“But nothing,” Nina’s husband Greg said, pushing his way out of the sliding glass door as he draped an arm around his wife’s shoulders and tickled Calista under the chin. Tall and dark, his pale good looks and calm demeanor had set January instantly at ease from the moment she’d met him. She didn’t doubt his devotion to Nina and her mental health. Not even a little.
“You’re both worn out from these last months. All this hiding can’t have been easy for either of you. Take one night. Just one—on us; on all of us—and breathe. Well, I mean you breathe, January. For both of you,” he joked with a smile.
“Hah!” Nina crowed, tucking Calista to her shoulder as she snuggled closer to Greg. “My man—funny, right?”
“Sit, sit, sit,” Wanda ordered with a smile, pushing in January’s chair and squeezing her shoulder. “Relax. Enjoy some adult time. We’ll take care of the baby and anything else that needs taking care of.”
As January settled in across from Galen, her body melted into the chair. For the first time in months, they were safe. No one knew where they were. Artem wouldn’t bother checking up on her until Monday before the summit, as busy as he was psyching up his compadres for the big event. This was a freedom they hadn’t been afforded in months and months.
Marty tugged January’s braid with a gentle pull. “Now, we’re all going to go inside and go to bed in order to allow you some privacy to do whatever it is that two people who haven’t been alone together in months do. Ahem,” she said, straightening her peasant blouse over her flowing skirt and grinning a saucy grin. “The house is all yours. Go crazy.”
“But not too damn crazy now. Hear?” Nina reminded on a chuckle as she rocked Calista, who’d popped a chubby thumb into her mouth. “Like countertops and furniture are out. Got that, Doc? Normally I wouldn’t care. But now that I can eat, Arch makes a killer breakfast I don’t plan on missin’. Feel me?”
January barked a laugh as the warm breeze lifted the hair on the back of her neck. “No countertops or furniture. Got it, Boss.”
“And no talk of that prick Artem tonight, either,” Keegan, Marty’s equally handsome husband, reminded. “I know it’s not easy, but you have to at least try. For both your sakes.”
“Damn right,” Heath chimed in, pulling Wanda to his chest and smiling over the top of her head. “Forget everything but being together. Let all the other crap go.”
“Indeed, Dr. Malone,” Archibald assured on a smile and a quick bow. “And should you need me, the fine Farley and I shall be in the last bedroom on the right, where a rousing game of checkers and an episode of The Barefoot Contessa await us.”
Farley nodded his pleasure with a grin. Never were two men more suited to becoming friends than her familiar and Archibald. Farley was probably one of the biggest BC fans around.
He dropped a kiss on the top of her head and murmured in her ear, “Take heed the wise manservant’s words, lass. I’m a mere snap of your fingers away, should ya find ya need me.”
As everyone began to file out, January reached a hand out to Nina and gave it a squeeze. “Thank you,” she whispered with a watery smile.
She winked and let Greg pull her inside while the others followed suit.
Carl poked his head out of the sliding door and waved, slipping outside to drop a plate of broccoli in front of January. Then he, too, patted her on the arm and went in, leaving just her, Galen, some Barry Manilow, the roar of the brook, and the nighttime sounds of July.
Sighing, she closed her eyes and inhaled before opening them as Galen reached for her hand and pulled her to his lap. “How did they know we haven’t had a chance to be alone?”
Galen smiled at her, the worry in his eyes fading. “I must have mentioned it while we were all getting to know each other, before you got here.”
January’s heart melted. “They really are good people, aren’t they?”
Galen nodded his head, running his fingers over her jaw. “They are. I was wrong to doubt them.”
“Do you think—”
Galen pressed his lips to hers to stop her from expressing her doubt. “No talk of what’s to come. How about you dance with me? I don’t think we’ve ever danced, have we?”
Curling her fingers into his dark hair, she smiled as he nuzzled her neck, sending sharp tingles of awareness along her flesh. “You can dance? Big girly sigh. What can’t you do, Galen Marcus?”
“Wait to get my hands on you naked?” he offered as a response, lifting her up and setting her on her feet to wrap his arms around her waist.
She giggled, leaning into him, resting her head on his wide chest and sighing her contentment as he led them across the wide deck. “It’s been a long time, hasn’t it?”
“It’s been forever,” he muttered against her mouth, slipping his tongue between her lips.
The silky slide of it, the rasp against her own, made her sigh again, this time in anticipation. Reaching up, she wrapped her arms around his neck and molded her body to his—every last plane and rigid line.
“You’re pretty good at this.”
“I’m pretty good at a lot of things.”
“A lot of good things is what gave us Calista,” she whispered on a chuckle.
“Like I said. I’m pretty good at a lot of things, but she’s the best thing. The best thing I’ve ever been a part of in a couple of centuries.”
January’s heart tightened and contracted. “You wanna go see if we can practice for the time when we might want to give her a brother or a sister?”
“Do you think it’s possible to give her a sibling?” he asked, nipping at her neck.
“I don’t know. But it can’t hurt to hope, can it?”
They’d both been blindsided by January’s pregnancy. In fact, for weeks, she’d wondered what was going on with her cycle. She’d chalked up her lack of menstruation to the stress of sneaking around after Artem banned them from seeing one another.
Until Farley suggested a pregnancy test. She’d never forget seeing that little line indicating she was pregnant—or the fear that when she told Galen, he’d reject the very idea. They’d never talked children or family because it never entered a conversation with a vampire. She’d fretted he’d think she’d cooked up some spell, but it had all been worry for nothing.
When Galen found out, when he’d absorbed the information, he’d smiled wider than she’d ever seen him smile before. Then he’d swung her around and asked her to marry him on the spot. That was when she knew they had unconditional trust between them. He never once questioned how it had happened after she’d explained she didn’t have a clue.
Galen had declared it a miracle—meant to be.
He’d ignored her protests about their forbidden relationship. He’d ignored everything but the idea that he was going to be a father, and there was no way Artem or anyone else was going to stop him from fulfilling that role as her husband.
They’d married under white witch law in a small ceremony consisting of Farley, a fellow white witch and a blue fairy—and it had been magic.
And it would all be the most perfect thing ever if not for Artem.
Fucking Artem.
Chapter 10
“You’re not doing as instructed, Dr. Malone,” Galen teased.
Returning her attention to him, she fought to keep her mind free of their predicament.
And when he cupped her breast, she was totally able to pony up. “Bedroom?” she whispered against his lips.<
br />
“Yes. That,” he said on a chuckle, tearing his lips from hers and pulling her toward the sliding glass doors.
They snuck into the kitchen like two children, giggling and trying not to trip on the shoes lined up by the pantry door.
They raced down the hallway to their bedroom, where Galen closed the door on everything but them. Shutting out their worlds so determined to pull them apart, and then he pulled her to him and kissed her, whispering his words of eternal love and devotion.
When they lay together long after their lovemaking, January clung to this moment. Clung to Galen’s strong grip, buried her face in his wide chest, reveled in this cocoon they’d created.
And as she tried to keep her eyes open to savor every moment, January silently prayed they’d have the opportunity for more moments just like this.
* * * *
“I can’t even believe he asks the waitresses to wear these, Ingrid! I mean, how can anyone carry a tray of whatever we’re serving these asshats with heels the height of Redwood trees?” Teddy groaned as she slipped into one of the sapphire-blue stilettos Ingrid handed her.
“According to our boss for the night, this Artem’s very particular about how the waitstaff should dress, and this, my friend,” Ingrid held up the skimpy cocktail waitress dress with the bustier, “is what he prefers.”
“He’s a sexist dick,” Teddy spat, holding out a very long leg to eyeball the high-heel on her foot. “I feel like King Kong.”
“You’re prolly as tall as King Kong, too,” Nina said on a chuckle, pushing the sleeves on her hoodie over her elbows before she dug into a raspberry-filled donut. “If you aim right, you could maybe squash a whole damn village with heifers the size of yours.”
But Teddy wasn’t insulted by Nina’s jab. Not at all. Instead, she laughed and chucked her friend under the chin. “I smell jelly, ex-vampire. Stop projecting your disappointment we’re not jamming your skinny butt into one of these, because you know you want one just like it. It’s unbecoming of a human.”
How Nina Got Her Fang Back: Accidental Quickie (Accidentally Paranormal Series Book 13) Page 10
