"It's like when you meet someone with big ears. The ears are all you notice at first; you can hardly keep your eyes off them. But when you get used to the person, you stop noticing their ears, except every once in a while when it hits you: Joe really has big ears."
I nodded. "Do auras change?"
"Sometimes, but it’s rare. As I see them, anyway. It may have been different for the others before me, but I've only seen it happen once in my considerable lifetime."
She patted my knee.
"I suppose we better place wards around the estate in case any Unseelie fae have entered this realm. Will you go to the herb garden and get some cuttings for me?" she said, effectively ending the conversation.
"Of course, Mamó." As I put our dishes on the tray I asked, "Would you like me to take Sophia with me?"
"Let her be. Her father will return soon. And you can leave the tray there; Shamus will take it downstairs."
I leaned over and kissed her cheek. I was halfway to the door when she spoke again.
"Oh, and speaking of her father, I meant to tell you something about him." I turned back to her.
"What was that?" I had forgotten that she had mentioned him.
"His aura is different. Certainly not like any other human's I've ever seen. You're fighting your attraction to him, but you shouldn't."
"You know that just from seeing his aura?"
"You think running from him will keep him safe. However life isn't that simple. There are never any guarantees, no matter what you do. Don't miss out on love because of the things that might go wrong. There will always be bad in the world; grab onto the good while you can. Trust me. Better yet: trust your instincts."
I grabbed a pair of garden clippers and a long flat basket from a cupboard in the kitchen. With the handle of the basket hanging from the crook of my elbow, I headed outside and walked north. I strolled, surveying the changes to the foliage as the season made ready to turn into summer.
All hints of brown had left the grass. It was now in its young yellow-green stage, and it would soon be the blue-green of summer. The forsythia bushes had lost their yellow flowers and were covered in small green leaves instead. In fact, leaves covered all the trees, and the estate looked lush and healthy.
The garden my grandmother sent me to was not the herb garden used by Jenny, planted near the kitchen door of the main estate, but the one in the far northern edge where the clearing met the forest, almost a mile from the buildings. It didn't look like a garden at all, but it appeared to be the forest's natural attempt to extend into the clearing. This was intentional to avoid the curiosity of the non-fae.
The first clipping I collected was the three-leaf sprig of a poison ivy plant. I had no concerns about touching it, despite the rash it would give a human. Next, I grabbed the base of a horseradish plant. The textured leaves were course beneath my fingers. I gave it a firm tug and pulled it out by its fleshy root. I shook it to dislodge any loose dirt before placing it on top of the poison ivy leaves.
Lastly, I moved to the feverfew plant. I picked out a stem with several open flowers, held it between my fingertips, and used the clipper to cut it at the base. After placing it in the basket I reached for another stem. My hands froze in midair when I heard someone approaching from behind me.
It was Alexander. He was still some distance away, so I quickly finished taking the clippings I needed and walked toward him to greet him away from the plants.
I smiled cordially as I got closer to him, more relaxed than when I had encountered him in the past—Mamó's influence no doubt—and my smile became genuine.
His gait was smooth and agile. He had the small rubber ball in his hand that he squeezed and released rhythmically with his stride. I wondered what his aura looked like to my grandmother.
He returned my smile, seeming genuinely happy to see me. Perhaps he hadn't been avoiding me.
"Good afternoon, Alexander." I looked away from him awkwardly when I said his name. I could never come up with a nickname for him. Without an alternative name to use, I avoided eye contact when I said his name—though I'm sure it looked rude.
Nicknaming people was something I did regularly. Since I couldn't hold Dominion over someone unless I used their full and proper name using nicknames was a habit I had gotten into long ago to avoid any accidents. We fae folk didn't use our true names, for if a fae knew your name, they could control your every action.
"Can I help you find something?"
He chuckled. "Actually, I was looking for you."
The space between us closed, and he turned and walked with me as I continued back toward the house.
"First you're avoiding me, and now you're looking for me?" The question popped out before I could censor it.
This time he laughed that good hearty sound I liked so well. "No, I've just been helping you avoid me," he said. I blushed, embarrassed that he knew what I had been doing. Then I told myself that it only showed that he paid as much attention to me as I had to him.
"I rarely come to this end of the estate; it must have taken you a while to find me. Did you go to the lake first?" I worried that he may have found Shamus there while he was talking to Kelly. What would he have made of that?
"No, I figured you would be here."
"Why would you assume I was somewhere that I rarely go?"
He shrugged but didn't seem inclined to answer.
"Well here I am. What can I be doing for you?"
"Matt and Holly ambushed me after work. It seems it's Eileen's birthday, and they want us to come to JR's tonight to celebrate."
"Us?"
"Yes. It seems they have it all arranged. Matt's mother is taking Sophia for the weekend. Her granddaughter is visiting and the girls like to play together."
"You're not wanting to go?" I asked.
"It's not that. I just didn't think you would want to go with me."
"Sure, and how could I not, with such an enthusiastic invitation?"
His neck flushed red. Perhaps I should have felt remorse for my sarcasm, but his reluctant invitation had hurt my pride.
When we had come up to the yards behind our houses I could see Shamus returning to the Manor House. He must have just finished his conversation with the Pixies. I called his name and waved him over.
"Shamus, my friend, will you take these clippings in to Mamó?" I put the clippers into the basket and handed it to him. My cell phone vibrated, and I absentmindedly reached into my pocket and pulled it out while I continued talking. "How are things at the lake?"
"Very calm; nothing new there." Shamus's answer told me both that he understood my question and that the Pixies hadn't heard of any trouble in the air.
He nodded once to me, once to Alexander, and then bustled off with my basket of clippings in tow.
"He is a strange little man," Alexander said when he was out of earshot.
"Indeed, he is." I laughed harder than the comment warranted, giddy with the added assurance from the Pixies that my worries about the story in the paper were unfounded.
I swiped my phone open to read a waiting text message as I started to say goodbye to Alexander. He startled me by taking my free hand before I could speak. His hand felt warm, strong, and inviting.
"Tressa, would you please go out with me this evening?" His voice was as smooth as a caress.
"Well, that was better."
With my grandmother's words still ringing in my ears, the thought of lowering the barriers I had been framing between us was enticing. I looked down at the open phone in my hand to give myself an extra second or two to think and laughed again.
Looking up into his dark eyes, I grinned.
"Yes." I held the phone out for him to read the message.
JR's 7pm say YES! Pix
CHAPTER TEN
Alexander leaned against his truck, his arms crossed over his chest as he waited for me. An evening out with Holly meant you had to look good; she was always at her best. But this evening I took special care with my p
reparations for that one moment, when I met him outside: to see his face light up.
It surely did light up. I may not have been your typical Sidhe, but I was vain enough to enjoy his admiration. He took in every detail as I walked toward him.
"Wow. You look fabulous," he said.
His dark eyes were so penetrating that even his briefest glance went soulfully deep. I allowed myself to be open to his scrutiny. It was freeing to relax my guard after spending so much time hiding.
The wide collar of my blouse slipped over the curve of my shoulder, exposing my collarbone. He reached out and ran his fingers over it. His caress was warm and gentle. I took a deep, faltering breath.
"Why did I wait so long to do this?" he asked.
"To touch me?" I'm not sure if I meant to be flirtatious, but the words came out that way.
He smiled, crinkling the corners of his eyes. "To ask you out."
We held hands as we walked around the front of the truck. Alexander reached to open my door, but then pulled his hand back. He turned his body toward mine and studied my face. His expression went from thoughtful to resolute. He slid an arm around my waist, pulling me close against him.
Then he kissed me. It was a gentle kiss. Then he pulled back just enough to see into my eyes, gauging my reaction. Finding no sign of resistance, he ran his fingers softly up from the nape of my neck until my curls tangled around them. He lowered his lips to mine and kissed me again: a deep, lingering kiss.
"Is this how you start all your dates?" I asked, breathless.
"I didn't want to risk missing the opportunity again." He wore a rakish grin.
Alexander helped me into the truck before getting into the driver's seat. He fumbled the key as he tried to slide it into the ignition. After several attempts, he gave up using his right hand and twisted his left arm awkwardly to insert the key. The engine came to life and he drove down the driveway.
The truck was surprisingly clean, considering that its owner worked outdoors. However, there were telltale signs that a child was a frequent passenger: a booster seat and a variety of stuffed animals and baby dolls littered the backseat.
There was a packet of wet wipes in the storage area between the front seats. Next to it were two therapy balls. I picked up a black one and squeezed my hand around it. The ball was harder than I anticipated. It didn't react to my grasp. I rolled it around my palm with my thumb and fingers.
"Does this help?" I asked tentatively, not sure how sensitive he was about his hand.
He glanced over to see what I had and then took a minute to answer.
"The doctors say dexterity will always be a problem, and I won't recover any more strength in my hand or arm. I figure there's no harm in working on it. If everyone stops their therapy when told to, how do they really know that doing more won't help?" He shrugged as if it wasn't important, but the muscle working in his cheek told me otherwise.
The conversation turned to his work at the university, though my thoughts remained on his injured hand.
Alexander pulled the truck into a parking spot that had just been vacated directly in front of JR's. We met at the front of the truck, Alexander taking my hand. Holding hands felt natural, as if we had been doing it for years.
The sign on the sidewalk by the pub's entrance announced that Steamtown—a popular band out of Scranton—was the live entertainment for the evening. They played here often and were popular. The pub would be crowded.
Inside, JR's was exploding with noise. Alexander tightened his hold on my hand and guided me through the crowd standing around the bar. Several of the patrons called out to me as we passed; I waved and smiled but didn’t stop.
When we entered the dining room, Holly stood and gestured in our direction. She looked great, as I had expected, and ours wasn't the only attention her waving attracted.
She caught the eye of several of the young men in the pub, including the band members on the little stage preparing to begin their set. They saw me walking toward her and acknowledged me with a nod and a smile.
Holly was at our regular spot: a large table along the far side of the room that was actually two tables pulled together.
I introduced Alexander to everyone. Eileen sat in the middle of the group as the guest of honor. Holly and Matt sat on one side of her; Rachel Singer, from the salon down the street, and her husband sat on the other.
Matt introduced a woman I didn't recognize as his sister, Kendra. Kendra shared Matt's big smile and generated a warmth that made me like her instantly.
The two open seats were across from Holly and Eileen. Alexander pulled out my chair for me, but I hesitated to sit. Holly grinned and shook her head.
"Sorry, Tressa. I forgot." She leaned over a candle on the table in front of her and blew it out. A small black line of smoke curled up from it and disappeared. "Kendra, would you get that one?"
Kendra looked puzzled, but did as she requested.
"Thanks, Pix." I winked at her as Alexander and I sat.
"What was that about?" Alexander asked.
"Pyrophobic," I said, pointing to myself.
"Sorry?"
"Fire phobic."
"Okay, good to know. So, no candles?"
"No flames of any kind," Holly told him.
"No gas stoves, no campfires or barbecues." Eileen ticked off with her fingers.
"No kerosene lamps," Holly added.
"No romantic fires in the fireplace?" Kendra asked.
I shook my head.
Alexander held up his hands. "Okay, enough! I get it."
Steamtown's first song drowned out everyone's laughter. I smiled as I looked around the table. My friends had easily welcomed and accepted Alexander and me as a couple.
The waiter arrived with frosted mugs of beer for everyone except Holly, who got a glass of orange juice.
"Alexander, I hope you don't mind, but we ordered a beer for you. If you don't want it you can order something else. It won't go to waste with this crowd," Holly said.
"This is fine," Alexander assured her.
I lifted my glass and held it out toward Eileen. "A toast for the birthday girl."
Everyone followed my lead and lifted their drinks. They looked at me, faces alight with anticipation. I stood to give a grand effect as I toasted the guest of honor.
"I wish you health, wealth, and happiness, for as long as you shall live. And may all the love be showered on you that the world has to give. Happy birthday to Pix's big sis!"
"Happy birthday!" The group shouted and clinked their glasses.
"So are we going to order? I'm hungry," Holly said as soon as she swallowed a sip of juice.
Matt, Kendra and Alexander picked up menus from the pile that lay on the table. The rest of us knew the selections so well we no longer needed it.
Alexander opened his menu on the table between us. He placed his arm across the back of my chair and brought his mouth close to my ear. I warmed, imagining romantic intentions behind his move.
"What are you thinking of ordering?" he asked. I realized he thought I would have trouble hearing him over the music if he didn't speak into my ear. I liked having him so close, so I didn't tell him any different.
"I'm afraid it's nothing fancy. Bar food really," I said.
"I don't mind that," he said and then hesitated. "I guess I'm not very hungry."
"Too many cookies?" I said with a sideways glance.
He looked surprised and laughed. "How did you know?"
"The chocolate ones were delicious."
Our eyes met in shared amusement.
"Tressa, Alex, you're up." Matt's voice drew us back to our surroundings. The waiter stood next to Alexander, pen and pad at the ready and looking at us expectantly.
"A bowl of soup?" I suggested to Alexander.
He nodded his agreement. "A minestrone soup for both of us," he told the server and handed her his menu.
While we waited for the food, Matt told stories from their high school days. Holly and Eileen l
aughingly corrected him when they thought he told it wrong.
Alexander took my hand underneath the table, interlacing his fingers with mine. Our paired hands lay comfortably on my thigh. My breath quickened as he caressed the side of my hand with his thumb.
The arrival of our meal interrupted the conversation around the table, but the raucous stories continued once everyone had their food and the servers were gone.
Holly placed her hand on Eileen's arm, as if to add something to what she was saying, but stopped mid-sentence. Eileen stiffened in response to something behind me.
Before I could turn around, Eileen said, "Tressa, sing for us. Please." She glanced up to the stage. "It looks like George is taking his break, anyway."
She gave me a pointed look that warned me not to ask questions.
"Yes! Please, Tressa." The rest of the group latched onto the idea.
Eileen waved to George, the leader of the band, to get his attention, pointing at me in a type of crude sign language. He grinned and nodded, not surprised by the request.
I squeezed Alexander's hand before releasing it. Although I enjoyed singing to this crowd, I was reluctant to lose the intimacy of his touch.
Once on the stage, I greeted George with a kiss on his cheek.
"May I use your guitar?" I asked.
"Sure," he agreed before turning to speak into the microphone.
"Okay folks, we're going to take a break, but we have a real treat for you. Tressa's going to sing."
The crowd murmured with pleasure. I pulled a stool out to the microphone and took the guitar George handed me. He and the rest of the band left me alone on the stage.
I settled onto the stool and checked the tuning of the guitar. Once satisfied with its sound, I scanned the crowd. It didn't take long to understand what had upset Holly. Fred was there with several friends, including Tom Lynch. They sat at a booth along the wall, across the room from our table. I thought I recognized another of the men as Fred's brother. Fred was glaring in the direction of our table. Holly kept her eyes downcast as Eileen glowered back at Fred.
Tressa's Treasures (The King's Jewel Book 1) Page 9
