The Ties That Bind
Page 33
Chris nodded, thoughtful. "Maybe some things you don't want to know," she said. "Abuelita tells me sometimes that some things are beyond our understanding. Maybe there is a logical explanation, and it's a coyote gone crazy." She shot me a sidelong glance. "And maybe it's not."
"You ready to take me to the loony bin?" I wouldn't blame her if she did.
She smiled and squeezed my shoulder. "No, esa. No estás loca. Not in a bad way. You, of all people, know that people can do fucked-up shit. And you know that people can make themselves believe anything. But I think now you're coming to understand that sometimes, we may not know the answers. Not right away. And that is never a bad thing. Knocks you off your academic pedestal, maybe." She winked and took another sip of beer.
I stared at her again. Oh, my God. "Something weird happened to you, too," I said accusingly. "And you've never told me."
She smiled again and shrugged.
"What? Dammit, Chris, you owe me."
She raised an eyebrow.
"You've given me total shit for the skinwalker stuff."
"Maybe I was in denial."
"What the fuck? How long have we been friends? And you haven't told me everything?" I stood and placed my hands on my hips, almost indignant.
"Be grateful I've spared you some of that." She raised her eyebrows at me.
"I don't believe this. My best friend has been holding out on me. That is so not fair. I don't think you deserve another beer," I threatened.
She looked at me, plaintive, and I glared at her in return, trying to maintain a fierce expression. It didn't work. I started laughing. "Dammit, I can't be mad at you."
"I know. And I'll tell you eventually. But right now, I want
another beer. And I think you should have one, too. Down time?" I didn't disagree.
"HOW'S YOUR JAW?" Sage asked, voice soft in my ear.
"Not bad." I pulled her closer as we danced, something slow and sexy on the CD player, pools of candlelight splashed across our living room floor.
"How's Chris?" The question meant, "Did she lecture you and if she did, was it warranted?"
"Good. Surprisingly good." Which meant that she hadn't lectured me.
Sage sighed with relief and we danced a bit longer before she spoke again. "Did you read Ellen's e-mail?"
I pulled away a little. "No. When did she send it?"
"This afternoon. She CC'ed you. Did you not check yours?"
"No. What's up?" A little twinge of angst ricocheted in my gut.
"She asked if we'd be interested in a Blessingway ceremony next week, at her family's place on the reservation."
"Yes."
She looked at me, surprised. "You're sure?"
"Look, I'm not going to pretend that I don't think about what you told me and it doesn't make me a little insecure sometimes. But you and I, we're in the now. You'll always share a past and a connection with Ellen, whether I was here or not. I need to just accept that. Besides, I think maybe a ceremony like that will..." Will what? I searched for words, found them. "Clear bad ju-ju." Yep. That's exactly what it would do.
Sage kissed me on the cheek and held my gaze with hers and in it, I saw conviction. A shared journey. I saw us, and for the second time that day, I felt like crying.
"And Kara?" she asked. "I'm sorry I couldn't be there today to see her off."
"No worries. She may soon be living nearby, after all. Or not. But if she does, there'll be plenty of time to see her, then. Whether you want to or not."
She giggled. "Did she say anything about Shoshana?"
I ran my hands down her back. "Nope. And no, I didn't ask."
She pulled back so she could look into my eyes. "Well done."
"Maybe it's a summer romance. Or just a weird one. She did say it messed with her a little, that Shoshana's uncle was involved in--" I hesitated.
"Dad's death," Sage finished. "I wondered how that might make her feel. Not that Shoshana is responsible in any way for what her uncle did or does."
I nuzzled her neck as the song changed to something as sexy and slow as the previous one. "It's Kara's gig," I said. "If she wants to talk to me, she will. Until then, I think I should focus on you and me."
"I'll do the same." She kissed me, long and deep, and sparks flowed from my lips to my toes, along the current between us. "I can't guarantee I won't drive you crazy," she murmured against my mouth.
"Ditto."
"I can't guarantee that as I unpack my baggage I won't be an impossible bitch," she continued, lips grazing mine. My heart sped up.
"I know. And I can't guarantee that sometimes I won't be an insufferable, arrogant, academic asshole."
"Mmm. True." Her eyes sparkled and I thought about unexplored rivers, and how the same things can look different when light changes, and that life wasn't always a spectator sport.
"Can we at least guarantee we'll talk about things?"
"I will gladly make that guarantee." She put her head on my shoulder and I breathed in her scent, thinking that as difficult as the last couple of weeks had been, in some ways, it had brought us closer together, and whatever we faced down the road, I felt confident that we'd face it and get through it, somehow. I closed my eyes and swayed with her, delighting in the feel of her body against me, her heat beneath my palms.
"How about we put the processing on hold for a little bit?" She nipped my earlobe and I no longer had coherent thoughts.
"Please."
She smiled at me in a way that took me back two years, to the first night we ever shared. "I love you," she said, and I read truth in her eyes.
"I love you back." I kissed her until both of us were breathing hard and as she led me to the bedroom, I understood, in that moment, that some things I might not ever be able to explain, but that was okay. Things like love, laughter, pain, life, death, and everything in between. Things that needed no explanation, and searching for one might perhaps blunt their effect, and make us lose sight of the essence of living.
"You're processing," Sage whispered as she tugged at the button on my shorts.
"Damn psychics," I whispered back.
"So what have you determined in the past few minutes?" She eased my zipper down.
"That I'm crazy about you."
"And?"
"And that's it."
She stopped, pretending to be shocked. And then she pulled me close, using my shorts as leverage. "Live this moment with me," she said, her hands slipping to my hips, lips brushing my chin.
And I did. Gladly.
'Til next time...
About the Author
Andi Marquette was born in Albuquerque and grew up in Colorado. After completing a couple of academic degrees in anthropology, she returned to Albuquerque where she completed a Ph.D. in history. She fell into editing in 1993 and has been obsessed with words ever since, which may or may not be a good thing. Currently, she resides in Colorado where she edits, writes, and nurtures a fascination with New Mexico chile.
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Table des matières
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five