After doing sun salutation, he went to the bathroom and took a quick shower before drying off and getting dressed in sweats and a T-shirt. Carrie was still curled up under the covers, features peaceful and open in sleep. His heart lurched at the sight of her. He moved to her side of the bed and bent down and pressed a kiss to her temple.
She sighed and again his heart skipped a beat. “Gorgeous,” he whispered. His skin tingled from wanting to feel her bare skin against his. He wanted to hold her in his arms again in the afterglow and feel her as she calmed down and slipped into sleep. The dragon was quiet within him. It had been sated after last night. He and his dragon couldn’t go two months without seeing her again. It would mean less money, but in the end, it would be worth it. Their mating was still new, despite their years of friendship. Their confessions showed him that they still needed to do more in the way of bonding. Yesterday was a start.
He bent down again and kissed her temple before pulling himself away from her side. He made his way downstairs to cook breakfast. A little food in bed and letting her relax was in order. Soon enough the other hunters would return, and he’d have to deal with all the noise, recaps, and calls from prospective or old clients. A little more of just the two of them time would be nice.
He put some cinnamon rolls in the oven and started making bacon, maybe some scrambled eggs and a glass of orange juice. He couldn’t forget the coffee. The phone in their office rang. He rushed over and picked up the cordless line and dashed back to the kitchen.
“Bolton.” He flipped over a slice of bacon and jumped to the side to avoid the fat popping.
“It’s Jesse. I’ve got a job for you.”
Dean looked toward the stairs; Carrie hadn’t rushed down from the bedroom, thank Goddess. He turned off the stove and headed to the office. “Let me get a pen and a pad. How bad is it?”
Hunters didn’t say hello or good-bye. Wasted words when information and communication were key. He felt himself shift from ease, bathing in the afterglow, to job mode. His emotions sealed themselves away, and his body tensed, ready for action. He grabbed a pad of sticky notes and a pencil and listened.
“Not too bad, just a poltergeist infestation. Old, rich witch bigwig. More a curry favor job than anything. In Detroit, Grosse Point area. Job pays ten clams just to show up. Fifty if you get the job done. An extra twenty if you get it done in less than a week. Sent you your boarding pass and directions already.” Jesse hung up before Dean could ask about anything else.
Rather than pack now and wake Carrie up, he’d finish breakfast and pack while she ate. This way he could explain and take care of her at the same time. The dragon grumbled within; a sense of anticipation rushed through Dean’s veins. He finished off the bacon, took the buns out of the oven, and mixed up the scrambled eggs. His brain went through the list of things he needed for the job: holy water, iron, salt, and a few incantations to not only drive the überghostie away but also keep it out. Most people thought it was the religious stuff that got the paranormal out. That worked on lower-level baddies. To fight power, a hunter had to bring in the big guns: magic. The older religions and cults had far more power and had been around for far longer than anything humans had seen.
A well-practiced hunter could pull the ties to the earth and use them to banish, trap, or even control and direct a ghost or poltergeist. He’d know what to do when he got to Detroit. Eagerness filtered through his body. He plated the food and headed upstairs to find Carrie awake and dressed. She sat on the bed, watching TV.
“Morning, minx. Breakfast. I have to tell you something.” He set the tray down next to her and pressed a kiss on her temple.
“You’ve got a job and need to pack now? I heard the phone. What is it? Details please.” She placed the tray on her lap and dug in.
“Spoilsport. Poltergeist, up in Detroit. Jesse’s recommendation. Curry favor with a local bigwig witch. Possible grab job where we get ourselves a ghostie to use as we please.” He took out a large overnight bag and then opened the drawers and the closet door.
“You want to bring a ghost here? To play with?” She sounded calm, reasonable.
“Just to see if we can do something with it. Use it for odd jobs. Yes or no?” He glanced over at her to see how she looked.
Her features were open, her thoughts drifting across her face easy to read, but he wanted to hear her say it. “I’ll get the books out, but you have to keep me informed. We have to set rules for this.”
He’d expected that. “Go ahead.” He went back to packing.
“One, you tell me how you’re doing. Keep the lines open between us. No shutting me down.” Her voice was solid, tone brokering no argument.
He couldn’t argue with her there. “Done.”
“Not done. We’ll see when you you’re out on the road. These buns from the can? Did you do something?”
He glanced over at her. Her eyes were closed, bliss on her face, a smile on her lips as she chewed.
“Yeah, why?” He couldn’t understand what she was so happy about, but then again it’d been quite some time since he’d had a cinnamon bun.
“Nothing extra? Weird. Just tastes better.” She licked her lips and bit into another one.
“Maybe ’cause it’s made with love,” he threw out. A laugh bubbled up until it spilled out of him. He couldn’t stop it.
“Could be. Anyway, you should eat before you go. I’ll go print out your boarding pass.” She moved the tray to the nightstand, got out of bed, stood up, grabbed her plate, and left. “You need to cook more often, dragon. Waste of talent,” she called over her shoulder.
“In other words, you want me to slave away in the kitchen. I see how it goes.” He grinned. Their world felt right again—not like it was before, but more open and better, more honest. He’d survived telling her about Dalton, and she hadn’t run away or thought him cowardly, and he’d learned that he could give control to her without feeling any less masculine. That, and it was damn sexy having her on top of him, controlling his pleasure. They would have to do it again when he got back. But first he needed to get this job done and follow the new rules.
Once he was all packed, he changed his clothes and headed downstairs to the kitchen. Carrie had finished off her plate and held his boarding pass in hand, waving it around. He strode toward her and stopped in front of her. Her body heat seeped into him, and he could smell a hint of her arousal combined with vanilla and cinnamon.
“Thanks for breakfast. Hurry back, okay, and be safe? Go with the goddess.” She rose on tiptoe and pressed a kiss to his lips. He tasted the buns and orange juice.
He growled, wrapped an arm around her waist, and drew her against him. “You need to give me something better than that.”
He bent his head and kissed her lips, testing the firmness of her mouth, teasing the seam with his tongue until she opened up for him, and he sank it into her mouth to tease and twine against hers. The flavors of breakfast bloomed on his taste buds. He groaned, dropped his bag, and slipped his fingers in her hair while holding her chin with his now freed hand. She hugged him and held him to her body. Her breasts cushioned his chest. His cock thickened as his jeans tightened. For a moment, he allowed himself to melt into the feel of her body and her warmth. He felt safe and centered and grounded. Before he could forget about his job and be late to board the plane, he pulled away. He brushed a quick kiss on her lips.
“Later, when I get back,” he promised.
“Follow the rules and you may get an extra little something.” Her eyes sparkled, and her skin glowed with a gentle fairy light. Her plump lips looked red and bruised.
Pride swelled in his chest at the sight of sleepy arousal in her eyes. “Oh, I’ll be good. Gotta go. Don’t want to be late. We could be getting a nice payoff for this, which means a vacation maybe.”
He hadn’t thought of it before, but now that he’d said it, he wanted it. They could leave the business to one of the resident hunters, find a temp to handle the office work, and go a
way for a week or two, just the two of them. He’d saved up enough to give her a relaxing weekend at a spa or bed-and-breakfast or combo of both.
Her eyes lit up, and she gifted him with a large grin that made his heart skip a beat. “Deal, but you still have to follow the rules.”
He decided to get cheeky with her. “Remind me what they are again.”
She lifted an eyebrow and crossed her arms over her chest. “Not funny, and just for that, I’ll add a few. One, call me and let me know how you’re doing—not just about the how the job is going, but you. If you can’t call, e-mail me. If you can’t do either of those for some reason, have Jesse or one of the hunters in our network contact me to let me know what’s going on. If it gets too hot, don’t be afraid to ask for help. And last but not least, kick its ass and bring it home. I’ll contact the local coven to see if they can help us with some sort of incantation to help us control it. Now go.” She gave him a slap on the ass that sent a wave of heat through his groin.
His semihard cock jerked, and he let out a groan. “Tease.” He bent down and gave her a kiss before leaving the kitchen. This job needed to end quickly.
* * * *
Dean had been gone for two days, and he’d checked in both days so far, twice a day. A preliminary survey of the problem showed there was a poltergeist, but it wouldn’t be too bad since the ghost seemed to like to throw soft, squishy items. A score in Carrie’s opinion. He said the job would take at least two days, three, max. The first ten thousand had been deposited into their bank account already, which was good.
Carrie still worried about his safety. He had Jesse helping him and acting as backup, but just because the thing liked to throw pillows didn’t mean it wouldn’t graduate to bigger, heavier objects. Despite her calm, her stomach turned, and nervousness erupted when she thought of him far from home.
The phone rang, and she dashed for it, ignoring the looks the few hunters who were home gave her as she rushed past them. “Dean?”
“Hey, minx. Job done. I’m filthy, covered in pudding and cubes of blueberry-flavored Jell-O. Don’t ask. I don’t want to talk about it right now. Jesse is laughing his ass off, and the owner of the house is rolling on the floor. I need a shower, but we have a poltergeist, trapped and ready for the coven. I’m going to get cleaned up. I’ll be leaving early, so I’ll be home by four in the morning. Don’t wait up. God, I’m sticky, and I feel disgusting. Later.”
Through the phone she could hear male and female mirth. “Later, dragon.”
As she hung up, she heard him growl. “I will barbecue you both if you don’t stop laughing at me. Don’t make me release the damn ghost. Let’s see how you like blueberry gelatin in your hair.”
She chuckled and shook her head. It looked like she and Dean would need to make sure the washing machine and dryer were free. She left her office to find a group of hunters watching her with anxious expressions on their faces. “No worries, guys,” she started out. “Just make sure you have your clothes cleaned up. He’s coming back with pudding and Jell-O-coated clothing.”
A collective groan went up.
“But I need to wash my bedding and curtains,” one of the hunters complained.
“And I was hoping to finally do my laundry. If you hog the washer, how am I supposed to wash my shit?” another person demanded.
Carrie held up her hands. “You.” She pointed to the hunter who last spoke. “Do your laundry now. After she’s done, you do your bedding and curtains. Since we’ll be smudging in the next few days, get the stuff you want to have cleaned out of negative energy ready. Anyone else have any other concerns?”
They grumbled but said nothing.
Carrie rolled her eyes and shooed them off. “All right, off with you.”
As soon as everyone had left, she headed upstairs to Dean’s room and took out the basket. She hadn’t broken down the box yet, not sure if he wanted to use it for something else. She rummaged around in each egg until she figured out what she wanted to use for his reward. There was a fantasy she’d never told him about. They’d flirted with bondage, but she only used Velcro with him. Emotion filled her chest. She sucked in some air and selected the padded hand and ankle cuffs with the padlock and keys. Carrie ran a finger over the edge of the leather cuff. The smooth texture teased her skin. Inside was lamb’s wool to ensure that the wearer wouldn’t get hurt.
* * * *
Dean trudged up the stairs. He had a crick in his neck, and the damn poltergeist trapped in a jewelry box kept shaking his bag. His shoes squished when he walked. The beastie had gotten hold of some pudding and poured it into his shoes when he wasn’t looking. It could’ve been worse. He knew that. This ghost had only been interested in harmless pranks and throwing pillows and stuffed animals. The witch who’d called on Jesse’s help hadn’t minded the company so much, since she lived alone, but that didn’t mean she wanted to go to bed with strawberry jam stuffing her pillowcases or mashed-up bananas filling her bathtub. Her boiling point had been reached when the thing steeped all her expensive loose-leaf tea in the toilet. She had called Jesse, and in turn his friend had called him. Easy money, sure, but messy money too.
All Dean wanted to do was clean up, throw his slop-covered clothing into the washing machine, and climb into bed with Carrie. Maybe have a little sexy fun tomorrow. For now, some much-needed rest in his own bed. His bag rattled once again, and Dean hit it in the side. “Calm down. You’ll be out in a day or two,” he grumbled.
Carrie had texted him that the witches would be at the house tomorrow. The box stopped shaking, and Dean had reached his bedroom door. With a grunt, he pushed it open and headed for the bathroom. Shower first. He’d been too tired to check to see if Carrie was in his bed. Being on the brink of exhaustion dulled his senses. Even the dragon was worn out. He started the water and dropped his bag near the door. He unzipped it and brought out the five-by-ten-inch package and checked the seals. Nothing broken or cracked, all intact. “Look, I know, it’s a cramped space, but soon you’ll be able to get out and stretch your legs or whatever. Just go to sleep, okay?”
He didn’t expect an answer, nor did the box or ghost give him one. Like most paranormal beings, ghosts were pains in the ass. He put down the jewelry box and stripped out of his clothes, stepped into the shower cubicle, and shut the door. He let out a moan of bliss as the hot water hit his skin. Jesse’s place had iffy water; you were lucky to get hot, warm, or even lukewarm water. He couldn’t wait to crawl into bed and drift off to sleep on a mattress that didn’t have a lumps in it or a stray spring that poked him in the back.
Most importantly, he was looking forward to holding Carrie in his arms. He’d called her to let her know when he left Jesse’s, as soon as he arrived at the airport, and after he landed. He’d gotten a voice mail each time. It didn’t bother him; there were hunters in the house who needed her to take care of billing issues with clients or book jobs for them or call in their various contacts for help on a job. It just felt good to be under the same roof with her once again. Having his mate nearby set his soul at ease and made his dragon less antsy. A little laundry, some yoga, and then off to bed. Maybe he’d go to her room instead of his and wrap his body around hers just to feel her in his arms once more.
He washed his body and then focused on his hair. No matter what he did, he didn’t feel clean enough where that was concerned. The ghost had loved dumping full bowls of stuff on him. Even after trapping the thing, he’d found bits and pieces of food in his tresses. Hopefully the witches could break it of that habit.
Once he was sure that his hair had been thoroughly cleaned, he rinsed and then stepped out of the space and dried off. The box rattled and he ignored it. Later.
He wrapped a towel around his waist and padded out to his bedroom. His bed wasn’t as empty as he’d thought. Carrie lay on her side, under the covers, sound asleep. He smiled as his heart melted. He dressed in sweats and tiptoed out of the room, trying not to wake her. If his dragon were capable of it, the beas
t would purr. For the first time he could see the benefits of having a mate; not just the sex or being alone, but having someone to wait for him at home and make him feel wanted and loved. For so long he’d been isolated, opening up a tiny bit when he’d mated to Carrie.
He wasn’t alone. They weren’t alone. They had friends. His life wasn’t as bad as he’d allowed himself to think it was. This wasn’t just a job; it was family.
As he made his way down to the laundry room, he passed one of their usual hunters, Anson, just coming upstairs.
Anson gave him a nod. “Hey, boss. Job summary on Carrie’s desk to be filed for research in the morning. I’m going to go catch some z’s. Battled a gnarly sludge monster and I’m exhausted. Later.” He clunked up the stairs, travel bag in one hand, apple in the other.
Dean smiled. He headed into the laundry, dumped his clothes into the washer and started the machine. His mind worked over the changes he’d felt in the last two weeks. He was more open, settled, and at ease. Even being away from Carrie was easier because he knew she’d be there when he returned, and she was safe. He could exhale and not worry. When he gave it more thought, he realized that Carrie would always be protected, whether he was there or the other hunters were; someone would be around just in case, and they could possibly turn to the town for help. Despite his good mood, he felt as if he’d overlooked something. The washer buzzed, and he retrieved his laundered clothes and threw them into the dryer.
He knew he had to talk to Carrie, but that would wait until tomorrow. She was asleep, and he had no intention of waking her up. He went into the kitchen and made himself a sandwich. The dryer dinged, so he got his clothes and began to fold them. Once he finished there he returned to the kitchen and rinsed his plate, put it in the dishwasher, then returned to the laundry room and grabbed his basket and headed upstairs.
The light was on and Carrie was awake, sitting up against the pillows. “Why didn’t you wake me up? When did you get in?”
Eostre's Baskets: Stacking the Deck Page 8
