To Date A Disaster (Southern Sanctuary - book 6)

by Jane Cousins

  “Wool?” Had she heard that right?

  “So she can start knitting booties.”

  “Booties?” Cara almost stumbled as they stepped onto the pavement.

  Erik gripped her tighter still. After frightening the hell out of him tonight, first running off and then tackling the sand creature, he couldn’t resist leaning down to whisper the answer in Cara’s ear. “For all the babies were going to have, of course.”

  Cara’s mouth dropped open in shock and for the first time since he’d met her, his Angel was utterly and completely speechless.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  It took a while for Cara’s thoughts to coalesce to the point where she could commence forming words. Truth be told, they were well on the road to Reverie Valley and Erik’s house by the time she’d gotten over her shock and confusion at his statement. Common sense beating to a pulp each and every fantastical hopeful reason she could come up with as to why Erik would believe that babies were in their future.

  Feeling under control enough to pursue an intelligent conversation she finally trusted herself to begin questioning him, but only one word slipped out. “Babies?”

  Erik didn’t appear to be experiencing any kind of mental anguish, all he did was laugh and happily repeat the word in a firm confident tone. “Babies.”

  So she had heard him correctly. That didn’t lessen her confusion. She needed more data, more information… then maybe she could start making sense of what was going on. She decided to try again. “Babies?”

  “You do want kids, right?” Erik gave her a quick fleeting warm smile before returning his attention to the dark stretch of road ahead of them.

  “Um…?”

  Somehow Erik seemed to interpret her stunned mumblings in the affirmative for he continued on. “Sure you do. You’ll make a great Mum. But we’re getting a little ahead of ourselves just yet, first you need to officially move in, then I think we should practice, practice, practice.”

  “Practise?” Cara was finally starting to move past the state of bemusement that had encased her since Erik had dropped the bootie bombshell on her.

  “Yeah, practice, at least for a couple of months or so, longer, if you want to hold off. But you know what they say, practice makes perfect.”

  Cara found herself frowning. It was like they were having two separate conversations. Erik conversing normally and stringing complex sentences together whilst she kept making random sounds and repeating words.

  Why would Erik suddenly be doing an about face on the subject of babies? He’d been very clear about how he felt about his mother’s wishes and all her annoying – potential mother of his children - candidates… unless… “Oh my God!” Cara sent him a look of pure disgust. “You’re buckling under to your mother’s demands and decided I’m the most convenient candidate for the job!”

  “What?” Erik gripped the steering wheel tighter, turning the truck on to the narrow laneway leading to his house. “That’s crazy. I am not buckling under just so I can present my mother with grandbabies.”

  “Well, what would you call it then? You spend weeks trying to scare me off. Talking to my boobs. Declaring yourself terminally single. Hiding from your mother and all her candidates and then suddenly…” Cara clicked her fingers. “…you’re like, hey Baby-Mama, want to have my baby?”

  Erik laughed. “Goddess, I really hope I don’t talk like that.” Bringing the truck to a stop in his driveway, he killed the lights. Undoing his seatbelt he glanced over at Cara, his cobalt blue eyes glimmering surprisingly bright by the light of the moon as he noted her mussed hair and the missing top button of her cardigan, the fitted sweater gaping ever so enticingly.

  “I swear, if you start talking to my boobs I will find something plastic and bash you about the head and face with it.” Cara promised, undoing her own seatbelt.

  “Come on.” Erik laughed, lifting his gaze up to meet hers. “I have something I want to show you.”

  She watched warily as he climbed out of the truck, making his way around to her side of the vehicle. Scowling at him with deep suspicion as he opened her door and held out his hand. “Why would I go anywhere with you?”

  “Because I realise now that when I waved the white flag and told you that I was surrendering to what I felt for you in New York, you thought I was just talking about for one night…”

  “Who wouldn’t?” Cara reared away from him. “Every women’s magazine out there trumpets the fact that men will make extraordinarily extravagant declarations and sometimes even tell bold faced lies to get into a woman’s pants.”

  Erik chuffed a derisive laugh, his hand still out stretched… waiting to help her out of the truck. “Let’s try not to get distracted by popular media and the rest of the world and just concentrate on what you believe.”

  “I believe you’ve been trying to keep me off balance from the first day we officially met.”

  “Ah, so you have trust issues, now we’re getting somewhere.” Erik reached in, grabbed her gently by the hand and pulled. “Come on, I want to show you something.”

  “Um…” Cara grimaced as her bare feet came to rest on the cold pavers of the driveway. She tried unsuccessfully to break Erik’s grip.

  Damn, she was hoping for a few days to come up with a strategy on how to slowly but irrevocably get Erik Valhalla to fall in love with her. She really needed to make some lists. Maybe conduct some more research, since neither sexy nor sweet had gone to plan. She was about to ask Erik if they couldn’t put this discussion off for a week or so, and request that he drive her to a hotel when she got distracted by her first real look at Erik’s house.

  On her previous visit here they’d gated in via Erik’s utility closet and when she’d departed she’d been too consumed by possessive rage at finding Saffron in Erik’s house to notice her surroundings. But this time she took it all in. The solar firefly lights flickering on and off were joined by hidden spotlights in the crowded green jungle of a garden that snuggled up to the most amazing house.

  She tilted her head back to get the whole effect. The circular rooms that spiralled up and around the massive tree trunk, its huge green canopy looming high over the house, like a second roof. The house supported by a series of thick heavy posts, carved to imitate tree trunks.

  It was like the house was sitting amidst a small forest of trees and had grown organically from them. It was practically a work of art, all wood and large glass panes.

  She ducked her head to avoid a fern as Erik, instead of heading for the entrance, led her along a pathway that circled down and around the house until they came to a large solid door. With trepidation she watched as Erik entered a security code, opened the door and switched on some lights, dropping Cara’s hand as he moved further into the room. Cara blinked a few times, waiting for her eyes to adjust to the light. The first thing she noticed was the massive glass picture window to her left, overlooking the ravine, the light in here, like the living room directly above it must be amazing during the day.

  The second thing she noticed was the massive roman soldier running full tilt at her, sword raised, the promise of death etched in to every line of his noble face. Wow, he was beautiful, a little scary but since he was entirely made out of metal she thought she might just have the upper hand.

  Oh my, she was in Erik’s studio.

  Her head swivelled left, then right, determined to take it all in at once but that proved difficult, there was so much to see. Pieces in various stages of completion competed for space on the floor, raised shelves and even hung from ceiling hooks. They were made of wood, metal, marble, mineral, stone and a variety of what she could only guess were other natural elements.

  Merda, they were seriously gorgeous, Erik was extraordinarily talented. “Erik… I don’t know what to say. They’re… everything is just…”

  “I bought you in here.” Erik interrupted her, drawing her attention to where he was standing in the very centre of the room. “To see this.” With a flourish Erik thre
w back a black velvet cloth to uncover the marble statue hidden underneath.

  Cara couldn’t suppress the small gasp of appreciation that escaped. Heavens, it… the statue, she, was astonishingly beautiful. The life-sized nude was reclining on her side, her head pillowed on one up stretched arm, her other hand resting on her rib cage as if any moment she was going to slide her hand up to offer her full breast to her lover’s mouth.

  The statue’s eyes were heavy lidded with passion, looking wanton with her full lips slightly parted… beckoning. Her long hair curled down over her voluptuous body, both hiding and revealing golden glimmering creamy marble flesh.

  Cara’s gaze travelled down over the statue’s rounded tummy and sleek legs to her perfectly sized dainty feet. The piece was divine, poets would be inspired just gazing upon this artwork, yet suddenly, Cara only felt hollow and bereft. It was all too clear, this… Goddess, was the woman Erik Valhalla deserved. Merda, was she real? Had Erik based her on one of the women from his past? A woman he would never get over, was that why he had dragged her in here to see it?

  Seriously, it wouldn’t matter how many lists she wrote, how much research she conducted, she could not… ever, in a million years, compete with the love, desire and sheer depth of emotion that Erik had poured into this incredibly special piece.

  Cara bit back tears, finally meeting Erik’s gaze. It was all so clear now. This woman… she was the one who’d gotten away. The one who set Erik on a life of being terminally single. If he couldn’t have this Goddess, he would never make a commitment to another woman.

  Until the pressure from his mother to have grandbabies grew too much and convenient Cara literally fell sprawled at his feet. She could move in with him, she could have his babies but that statue said it all… she would never have his heart, it was already taken by this woman.

  “Okay… this was not the reaction I was expecting.” Erik’s expression was torn between amusement and confusion.

  “What reaction were you expecting?” Even to her own ears her tone sounded wooden and distant.

  “Well, I thought you might get mad for a start. Maybe throw a few punches my way with your tiny fists of fury. But let me just say here and now, no one, absolutely no one, has seen this but you.” Erik absently placed his hand down on the statue’s arm.

  “Why? It’s beyond beautiful. Any museum in the world would clamour for it. I think it’s a shame to keep it all to yourself. Art lovers everywhere deserve a chance to see… admire this piece.”

  “Really? And you wouldn’t have a problem with that?” Erik frowned, moving his fingers back and forth across the statue’s upper arm.

  “Of course not. I do appreciate the chance to see it first though.” Cara bought a hand up to unconsciously brush away the sudden tingling in her upper right arm.

  Erik’s eyes widened slightly for a split second before he experimentally trailed a finger up over the statue’s shoulder and down over the curve of its shoulder blade to rest his hand lightly on the statue’s hip where he began to brush his thumb back and forth across the gold tinged marble slowly… hypnotically.

  Cara shuddered, looking over her shoulder, was there a breeze in here? A heater behind her? Strange warmth spread down her spine and settled on her right hip, the skin there felt hyper sensitive and hyper aware. Unconsciously she tried to rub the feeling away.

  “So let me get this straight.” Erik continued to brush his thumb over the statue’s hip. “You’d have absolutely no problem with me letting this statue go on public display?”

  Cara shifted, swallowing hard. It really was warm in here all a sudden as strange fingers of heat and sexual awareness radiated from her hip to her core. “Um… no… of course… look, will you stop touching that damn statue.” Her breath was coming in fast pants, what was wrong with her? Why was she turned on?

  “Sorry.” Erik looked anything but as he danced his fingers down over the statue’s hip and leg, bringing his hand to rest on the statue’s inner thigh. “You were saying…?”

  Cara swallowed hard, she’d been talking?

  “About me putting this piece on display?” Erik reminded, moving his hand slowly... oh so slowly up along the statue’s inner thigh. “It’s just, you being so modest and all, I didn’t think you’d be wanting a bunch of strangers… even if they are art lovers… admiring all your…” Erik’s cobalt blue gaze travelled slowly over Cara, from her head to her toes. “…assets.”

  Merda, her breasts ached, her inner thigh felt like it was on fire and she was pretty sure she’d just creamed her knickers but Erik’s words hit her like a bucket of cold water. Her spine snapping straight, her eyes widening in disbelief and shock.

  Erik took his hand off the statue, running fingers through his hair as he grinned. “Ah, Angel… I’m guessing you didn’t recognise yourself.”

  “That…” Cara pointed a finger. “That… is not me.” It couldn’t be. There was absolutely no resemblance. Talk about poetic license.

  Okay, maybe the hair, now she came to think about it and perhaps the breasts… Erik was the self-proclaimed breast whisperer after all, of course he’d get them right. But the rest? She was not beautiful, not like this. Okay, maybe the nose was familiar, and her chin, but her lips were not that wide… were they? And the body, that sleek yet rounded body? No way. She was all curves and dimples not this… then it clicked, oh my God. This was her!

  Erik caught her by the wrists as she flung herself at him, beating at his chest, a smile on his face. “Ah, there are the tiny fists of fury I was expecting.”

  “When? How?” Cara was literally shaking. “Who else has seen this?” She demanded, face tilted up, giving him her worst librarian – I’m two seconds from revoking your borrowing privileges – death glare.

  “No one. I told you, no one but me.” Erik couldn’t stop grinning. After several tense minutes when it looked as if things were about to spiral out of control everything was back on track, and by that he meant Cara was in his arms, the rest he was winging. “As to when and how? It was that night in the library, when you fell off the dais… best night of my life by the way. My brain, it kind of took a snap shot and that damn image… I couldn’t shake it. Truth be known, I didn’t want to shake it. That’s why I was so abrupt when I drove you home. All I could think about… see, was you, sprawled naked on the floor. I haven’t had a creative fugue since I first came into my powers but I literally couldn’t seem to do anything else but work on this piece, for days. It scared the hell out of me… you… you scared the hell out of me.”

  Cara blinked slowly, very aware all of a sudden how close she stood to Erik, how his large hands encompassed her narrow wrists. “Me? I was just an innocent bystander in all of this.”

  “Yeah, right.” Erik snorted derisively. “Everywhere I looked, there you were. In my head, in real life. Taunting me with those damn buttoned up shirts and all too proper skirts.”

  “I was not taunting anyone.” Cara defended. “I’m a librarian, we are traditionally modest dressers.”

  “Like you don’t know that all men are habitual pervs. Give us a wrapped package and all we want to do is rip the paper and ribbons away and see what’s underneath.”

  Cara rolled her eyes and chuffed a laugh, stopping abruptly as the tips of her breasts brushed Erik’s chest and heat fired in those cobalt depths. “Do you really… is that really me? The statue? Is that how you see me?”

  Erik smiled. “Not just how I see you Angel, how you really are.”

  He sounded so sincere, he truly thought of her as this beautiful creature, both earthy and ethereal. “Did you do something magical to it? When you touched it, I felt it.”

  “I noticed.” Erik leered. “I didn’t do anything consciously to it, but creating it was a very different experience for me. Brings up all sorts of interesting possibilities, doesn’t it?”

  “You can’t display it.” Cara shuddered at the thought of strangers touching it… and by extension her.

  “Never. T
his is my own private piece of heaven.” Erik heaved a sigh suddenly looking from the statue to Cara in his arms, it still wasn’t enough. He’d shown her the statue, believing it would make it obvious how he felt about her, but it still felt like something was missing between them. Abruptly he dropped her wrists and moved back over to the statue, resting his hand on the statue’s flowing hair. “Cara, I’ve been trying to tell you… unsuccessfully, for a while now, how I feel about you. When I told you I surrendered in New York… to the attraction I felt… feel for you, I was still holding back. It all seemed to happen so fast. One moment you were a stranger and the next… boom, I was ready to give my life to protect you. One moment I was alone, the next, all I could think about was… you.” Erik shook his head.

  Cara was frozen in place, though her heart was galloping in her chest like a thoroughbred.

  “Look, I know I can be difficult, bordering on temperamental. I’ve been known to get lost in a project to the detriment of my social life and even forget to eat or sleep. And I’d rather create a piece of art to express my feelings than string a bunch of words together. But what I said about surrendering… what I meant was that I’d be willing to give it all up….” Erik’s gaze travelled briefly around the studio of not quite finished pieces before settling sincere cobalt eyes on Cara. “All of it… if you just told me you loved me and were willing to spend an eternity together. Cara, marry me? Meld with me?”

  Cara bit the inside of her cheek. Her first response was to open her mouth and say yes… yes… YES! Except for one teeny tiny omission on Erik’s part. Not once during his declaration had he said the words I love you.

  Dolt! Honestly, the man was eight parts gorgeous and two parts pure frustration.

  They wouldn’t have a nice quiet peaceful life together, there would be fights and misunderstandings. He’d storm off to his studio in an artistic snit. She’d give him the silent treatment, not that he’d probably realise she was angry with him and not talking to him… then she’d give him an earful of Italian cuss words.