He let Sophie adjust her skirt before moving away from her. For his part, he didn’t need to wait. He had cooled as fast as he had heated.
Cori stood frozen, just staring at him. Her face was a blank slate waiting for someone to hand her a cue card for which emotion to project.
“So, you’re Cori,” Sophie said, adjusting her hair. “I’m Sophie; I’ve heard so many good things about you.”
Cori looked down at her book as if it might hold some explanation within its pages about what she had just witnessed. “I was just doing some hands-on studying,” she said, dazed. “I have to go over the dietary… animals...” She trailed off.
“We were just discussing job options for Ethan,” Sophie said.
Ethan watched Cori’s face come back from the dazed stupor like her hypnotist had called out the secret word to her awakening. “What job options?”
Sophie motioned for him to reveal what he wanted.
“I have an opportunity to leave the prison. I can take a job hunting the creatures we house here.”
“You wouldn’t be the warden?” Cori asked.
“No, you would.” He smiled, hoping that would draw some enthusiasm from her, but it didn’t. “I would just be a delivery boy.”
“How often would you come back?”
Ethan looked to Sophie. He hadn’t asked that question. He hadn’t thought of that question.
“Several times a year,” Sophie said.
“A year?” Cori’s voice cracked on the word.
He could see she didn’t like that answer. “This isn’t set in stone.” He took a step toward her, away from Sophie. “What do you think of it?”
“What do you think?” Cori threw the question back at him unanswered.
“I think it’s an opportunity I should consider.”
Her face cringed. “You should…” Cori looked back to Sophie. A glare spread across her face. “You should do whatever feels right.”
Ethan watched her face harden, as if every emotion she had ever felt had just gotten hog-tied and stuffed in a cage beside her heart. “Is that all you have to say?” He hated to bait her, but he didn’t want to feel bad about wanting to leave the prison. He didn’t want to feel guilty for wanting to be with a woman that wanted him. He did, however, want Cori to feel something about that: anger, sadness, something. He wanted a reaction, some kind of proof that she gave a damn. He wanted proof that he had a shot with her.
“Yes.” She hissed the word at him before hugging her book and trudging away.
He watched her leave. She may not have had any emotions to offer the situation, but he was holding a myriad of sentiments: guilt, anger, frustration, anticipation. Mostly though, he just felt sick. Looking back at Sophie’s grinning face, he couldn’t imagine why, two minutes ago, he couldn’t keep his hands off her.
Cori stormed away from the scene not wanting to show her tears. She couldn’t believe, after the time they had shared in the wizard world, that within an hour he would be pawing a woman he just met.
Away from them both, she threw her book and fell to her knees. She could sense her sorrow demon taking a tight grip over her again, but she couldn’t do anything to stop it. She could only sob and wonder how different things might have been if she had only tried to kiss him a second sooner. One damn second.
20
“I’m not saying you can’t do the job.” Danato brandished his pasta spoon at Ethan. The plastic pronged spoon still held a wet noodle that flapped with every jab. He was preparing his famous “spaghetti à la steak.” One of Ethan’s favorites, but again, served way too often.
Ethan set out the plates and flatware on the table while keeping a good distance between him and Danato’s wielded utensils. Cori finished sprinkling her last layer of cheese on the cheesy bread, which she would follow with oregano and bake to a crispy, melted perfection. Another of Ethan’s favorites, one that he had not tired of.
Cori had yet to say two words to him, not counting the “excuse me” she’d said to get around him to the fridge earlier. He couldn’t tell if she was more mad or sad, but he was certain that if she looked him in the eyes he would know for sure. Unfortunately, she was avoiding eye contact as staunchly as conversation.
“Why wouldn’t I take it?” he asked, still not seeing the catch to Sophie’s proposal.
“Because you will die!” Danato’s voice boomed through the house. Behind him, Cori jumped from the outburst. With her back to the stove, she couldn’t see the transformation in Danato’s face that always preceded his arcs in temper.
Ethan had long since become immune to Danato’s dramatic rage, but he still hated being in the path of it when it came barreling out of him. “How is that not saying I can’t do the job?”
Cori moved to Danato and touched his shoulder. For a split second, Ethan thought she was going to offer mediation to his case, but instead she moved him out of her way to place her cheesy bread in the oven.
“I’m not saying you can’t do the job. I’m saying the job is too dangerous for you to do. That’s not based on my opinion, or my evaluation of your skill, it is based on statistical analysis of past hunters.”
“I get it, it’s dangerous,” Ethan said snidely.
Danato drew his spaghetti-spoon revolver so fast the half-cocked weapon shot a noodle onto Ethan’s shirt. “Don’t be blithe to me, boy.”
“Will you help me here, Cori?” Ethan asked, approaching the island.
Cori looked up from her trance on the stove timer. She reached over, removed the noodle from his shirt, and tossed it in the sink.
Ethan looked her up and down. “That’s all you have to offer to this situation?” He didn’t know how her sad and mad were balancing out, but his mad was starting to tip the scales.
“If you want an opinion on your job prospects, why don’t you ask your new girlfriend?”
“Girlfriend?” Danato eyed Ethan from the other side of Cori.
“Yup.” Cori reached in front of Danato and pulled the pasta off the stove. Danato had a tendency to make mushy pasta, so Cori always watched the time for him. She moved it to the sink and dumped the pot’s contents into a colander. “They were pretty close this afternoon,” she said with her back to them. “At least they chose the right level—with the animals.”
“What’s this about?” Danato’s eyes darted between the two, searching for the answers.
Ethan pulled a serving platter out of the cupboard above the fridge and handed it to Danato for his steaks. “Nothing happened,” he said with wide eyes and clear pronunciation. He moved up behind Cori. She finished returning the pasta back to the big pot. “Nothing happened,” he announced directly to her, in case she hadn’t heard him say it to Danato.
She ripped herself away from her pasta to face him. “That was nothing? If nothing more happened, it was only because I interrupted!” She tried to walk away, but he backed up and blocked her way between the fridge and island.
“I recall being chastised the last time I let an opportunity like that go.” He intended to sound sarcastic, but his voice dripped with animosity.
She shook her head and took the long way around the island. “That’s not opportunity,” she snapped.
He went after her but Danato blocked his way. “Easy.”
“Oh, for the love of God, stop treating her like a porcelain doll. She can take care of herself.” The timer dinged on the cheesy bread. Danato removed the bread while Ethan took the short way to the table. “Do you have something to say to me?” he asked, paralleling Cori’s movement from the opposite end of the table.
Cori shifted uncomfortably under his gaze, but didn’t speak. She started collecting the plates off the table.
Ethan glanced at Danato, who was stacking his steaks on the platter. He moved to the side of the table and blocked his face from Danato. He leaned down on the table and tried to convey urgency in a quiet voice. “Do you have anything to say to me about… anything? The job? Sophie? Me?”
E
than saw the emotions behind her eyes, but for some reason she didn’t want to let them out. Fear, resentment, grief, whatever it was, it was preventing her from letting him in. Ethan eased away from the table, barely able to think past his disappointment in her. He helped her pick up the silverware and napkins he had just put out.
“What are you doing?” Danato yelled, suddenly aware of their actions. “We haven’t eaten yet!”
“I’m not hungry,” Cori said, already taking a step from the table, waiting for any excuse to bolt.
“I made steak!” Danato yelled. She was still again. “We are eating dinner.” Danato placed the steak-filled platter on the edge of the island.
They started reassembling the table, silently adding the steaks and the cheesy bread. They both sat down opposite each other, placing their napkins while they waited for Danato to finish the pasta.
Ethan stared at Cori, waiting for an answer, a comment, a lethal defensive tactic, anything. “Say something to me? I’m right here. I’m listening. I would like to know if anything that has happened today has affected you adversely.”
“Aside from almost hurling from seeing you paw a woman you just met?” she mumbled, keeping her eyes away from him.
“I’m not going to apologize for that, Cori.”
She glanced up at him. She must have needed to see the determination in his face before she could believe his statement.
Danato sat down with the pasta pre-mixed with sauce. “That is rather inappropriate, Ethan,” Danato said tentatively.
“It was inappropriate,” Ethan admitted. “I shouldn’t have participated in such a public display, but I won’t apologize for the encounter. It was consensual. I was only responding to her signals, which she made very clear.”
“I’m sure her signals have been honed over many, many encounters.” Cori spooned her spaghetti on her plate and shoved the bowl at him.
He took the bowl and did likewise. “Say what you want about her experience, at least there’s no room for error. No eggshells to walk over. No baggage to help carry. Not to mention she just says what she’s thinking… out loud!”
Cori dropped her fork and rolled back her shoulders. Ethan wondered if her sorrow demon had been bothering her since the afternoon’s incident. “You want to know what I think? I think she is just using you to get you to join her hunting squad. She’s manipulating you.”
“Well, at least she’s manipulating me to give me freedom, instead of me manipulating her for it.” He tipped his head, glaring his full meaning at her.
She stared back at him. Her mouth dropped open for a moment, but she closed it.
Ethan regretted the statement the instant he said it. She had admitted to influencing Vince in the time bubble. She had presented it as an olive branch to help explain her actions. In return, he weaponized that olive branch and used it to hurt her. And hurt her it did.
Cori threw her napkin down and shoved her chair out, prepared to bolt again.
“I made steak,” Danato stated with the implication that she stay at the table. He didn’t foist many agendas on them at home, but he did hold the evening meal sacred.
She reluctantly pulled her chair back to the table and played with her food.
Ethan wanted to catch her eye, so he could mouth, “I’m sorry” to her, but she kept her face down to her plate. With a soft voice, laced with self-deprecation, he asked, “Why would you even want me to stay? All we do is argue.”
“Who said I wanted you to stay?” she pointed out. Ethan’s heart clenched at the statement. He caught sight of a drop falling into her food, a salty tear that he had caused.
“Here I thought that bubble would make things better,” Danato said between bites. “It only seems to have intensified the emotions behind the arguing. Is that all you did in the bubble?” Danato looked between the two for his answer.
“No,” Ethan said, clearing his throat. “We didn’t argue as much there.”
“I think I should have left you both in there a hair longer,” Danato said. “Maybe that would pop this festering zit of hate.”
Ethan dropped his fork onto his plate, and Cori followed suit. The graphic metaphor had taken the edge off whatever was left of their hunger.
21
After dinner, they both made an effort to look occupied, all the while waiting to leave the room. Danato, unaffected by the tension, was happily off to sleep with his newspaper blanket. When Cori finally tossed her book on the coffee table and stretched, Ethan commented on how late it was.
He let Cori head upstairs first. He followed her after he removed Danato’s glasses and set them on the coffee table. When he got to her door, she was already inside. He knocked and tried the doorknob. As he’d expected, it was locked.
He heard a scuffle inside, then silence. He knocked again, slightly louder. Nothing.
“Cori, open the door. I’m not leaving until you do.” Nothing. “I’m sorry, house. Please forgive me.” Ethan stepped back and kicked the door in.
Cori yelped, jumping off her couch and backing away from the splintered entryway. Ethan listened downstairs for Danato’s snores before coming inside and shutting the door behind him.
He looked around the living room setup that mimicked his own—except with feminine touches. Plush, colorful pillows on a taupe couch, with traditional wooden end tables instead of his modern plastic ones. Much like his living room, the only thing missing was the flat screen television to give the couch a purpose.
Cori hung back by her far end table, still in shock from his bold entrance. “What the hell, Ethan?”
“I see you got your apartment, finally.”
She looked around the room as if seeing it for the first time. “Yeah, she forgave me. That doorframe had better go against you, though.”
Ethan looked back at the splintered frame. He was surprised it hadn’t held up better, given the magical nature of the house. It was just like any other door, only as strong as the doorjamb.
He turned back to her and took a step toward her. She took a step away from him. He clenched his jaw and raised a scolding finger to her. “Don’t, don’t do that. Don’t back away from me like I’m some horrible monster that should be penned up in that prison.” He slashed his thumb back in the general direction of the prison.
Cori stepped forward, meeting him at a sober conversational distance. “Why did you just knock down my door?”
“Because I’m done with the silent treatment. I need you to talk to me.”
“And tell you what, Ethan? You want me to lay out emotions that stem from territorial instincts that I don’t have the right to have.” She slapped her chest. “I get it Ethan. Enter hot blonde, who isn’t emotionally traumatized by fear and grief. Add pent-up sexual frustration, and flirting, and voilà. Inappropriate, sure, but understandable.”
Ethan exhaled a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. “Thank you for understanding that, at least.” He stepped away to examine her furniture. “I need to talk to you about the job.”
“I can’t make that decision for you.”
“And I can’t make it without you,” he said with more intensity than he intended. “I need your permission. I was the one left behind last time and it hurt like hell. I need to know you can live with this decision.”
She crossed her arms. “Sounds like you’ve already made up your mind.”
“My mind is made up, but my feet will stay firmly planted until you push or pull me.” He watched her react to the prospect of choosing his path. When he didn’t see the realization he wanted, he continued. “There is only one thing that will keep me here, and it can’t be hope.”
Her eyes met with his. She looked like a deer caught in headlights, stunned into submission by blinding honesty.
“I don’t mean that to sound like an ultimatum,” he continued, “but I’m sick of trying to define this relationship. I want more. I want whatever it was I felt with Sophie this afternoon.”
She looked away, deep in thou
ght. Her eyes wavered back and forth, as if she was reading her own thoughts off a belated memo from her brain.
“No more, Cori.” Ethan stalked over to pull her out of her internal discussion. He took her shoulders gruffly, but with controlled pressure in his grip. “Come out of that brain of yours and talk to me. Tell me what you’re thinking and feeling.” He took down one shaking hand and placed it over her heart. His fingers brazenly skirted her breasts. He fought against his baser instincts to keep his hands and eyes from roaming.
She looked at him somberly. Her heart thumped against his hand, and her chest rose and fell with each breath, slowly coming to terms with the proximity of his body. “I think that you should take the job.”
He sank away from her, dropping all physical contact. It was what he expected, and partially what he wanted, but it felt like a hot knife had been plunged into his heart. He backed up a couple more steps, searching for something to say so he could exit with dignity.
“I feel…” she continued. He looked up, realizing that she wasn’t finished. “My heart…” Her voice caught. “…will break when you leave. The very instant you are out of sight, my sorrow demon will gorge.”
“Why would you ask me to go, then?”
“Because if you don’t leave, you’ll always wonder. My decision will have made you a prisoner to me, and this place. You should go be just you for a while. I’ll be here. I’m not going anywhere.” She gave a fleeting smile. “I need you to choose too. I need you to choose me for me, and not by default.”
He wanted to hold her. To show her that he had long ago made his choice.
“You have my blessing, Ethan. Get the hell out of this place.”
Ethan let all the bad emotions drain off him. This was, ultimately, what he wanted. He wanted to say something to mark the moment. His mind rallied, spurring him to profess his love. He pushed back the incessant aspiration and moved to her door.
“I’ll let Sophie know our decision.” Even as he walked out the door to his separate apartment, he noted how good it felt to say our. They had finally agreed on something. Ironically, it was through their conjoined effort that they had decided to separate.
Rivals (Book 2 of The Warden series) Page 9
