by Amelia Jade
Forcefully ending the scene before the juicy parts, she focused on her friend. “What does it matter?”
Jo groaned. “What does it matter? Oh come on, Marie. I’ve known you how long now?”
“Almost a year. Ever since I came to town.”
“Right.” Jo sat up on the couch, crossing her thin legs in front of her. “Almost a year. And in those eleven months and change, you have gone on precisely how many dates?”
“One. I went on one date. You set me up with a guy and told me to go home with him. Except he was a creep, so I didn’t. Your track record at advice here isn’t so great.”
“But he was hot, M. So hot. You have to agree on that.”
Tossing her head back she looked at the sky, pleading for help in changing the subject. “Yes. He was hot. But that’s not everything, Jo.”
“When you’re trying to get some dick, yes it is!”
Marie turned away at the blunt language her friend used. It wasn’t that she was above talking like that, it was just weird to do so about herself. “I’m not interested in just that,” she said firmly. “I can’t bed a stranger.”
“Bed a stranger? Who says that?” Jo tossed her hands up in frustration. “You’re never going to be anything but single with that sort of attitude.”
“I guess.” Marie felt that maybe Garath would appreciate her approach to those sorts of things. He seemed like an old-fashioned sort.
Jo got to her feet so fast that Chip shot to attention, looking around for the danger.
“What?” she asked, looking at her best friend. “What’s wrong?”
“Your face. The way you said that.” Jo came closer, peering at her intently, until her amber eyes flew open as wide as they could go. “Holy shit.”
“What the hell are you doing?”
“You met a boy!” Jo crowed, pumping her fist in exultation. “Why haven’t you told me about him yet?”
Marie was stunned. “What? No I haven’t.”
“Yes you have. It’s written across your face, girl. Trust me, I know you can’t play poker. You met someone. Tell me! Tell me! Tell me!”
“Okay, we’re not fifteen, calm down,” she urged, but Jo’s happiness couldn’t be pushed aside.
“What’s he look like? Oh, I bet he’s tall. How tall is he? What’s his name? How did you meet him? He’s not weird, is he? What does he do for a living? Tell me!”
Marie held up a hand to slow the questions. “Are you sure you’re married?”
“Positive. That’s why I’m so excited,” Jo squealed. “Because I now get to live vicariously through you!”
“Hoo boy. Look, Jo. I haven’t ‘met’ anyone. Not in that way. It’s actually really bad.”
“What do you mean really bad?”
“Remember the guy who crashed the Jeep into the kitchen?”
Jo’s eyes bugged out. “No. Tell me it’s not him.”
Marie hung her head. “It’s him.”
“Oh that’s just too good! Tell me how it happened?”
She stirred the homemade alfredo sauce on the stove a few more times, judging it nearing completion. Flicking another knob, she sent heat into the burner for the pot of water for the pasta. Dinner would be ready soon.
“I actually ran into him at the grocery store earlier.” Marie explained how he’d looked utterly lost, as if he’d never had to shop for food in his life.
“TV dinners? You’re a professional cook, and you sent him to the TV dinners aisle?” Jo buried her face in her hands. “That is not how you get a date.”
“Maybe, maybe not. But it’s how I got his number,” she said slyly, slipping that little detail out while Jo was moaning over her supposed incompetence.
“What?” Jo’s head snapped up. “You got his number?”
She shrugged. “He asked for mine. Same thing.”
Jo shook her head. “Not quite. But you gave him your number? The real number?”
“Yes, I gave him the real number.”
“Wow. He must be something else.”
Marie turned to stir the sauce, hiding her face from Jo while she replied. “Yes, he’s unique, I guess. I don’t know. I haven’t gone on a date with him or anything. He hasn’t even called or texted me.”
“How long ago did you give him your number?”
She glanced at the clock. “Two hours?”
Jo snickered. “Oh, tonight is going to be so much fun then.”
Wary at her friend’s tone, Marie turned back to look at her square on. “I’m not sure I like the sounds of that.”
“He’s going to text you,” Jo said, ignoring her remark. “Tonight. And I’m going to be here. This is great!” she pointed a finger at Marie. “You’re going to have a date by the end of tonight, I guarantee it.”
“That wasn’t the goal,” she pointed out. “This was just supposed to be a fun relaxing evening where you tell me if you’re pregnant yet or not.”
Jo laughed. “Not yet, despite Rick’s very rigorous efforts to change that.”
Marie cringed at her friend’s forwardness. “Do you really have to be so crass?”
“It’s just sex, Marie. Everyone—except you I guess—has it. Most people on the regular. It’s fun, a good time, even a decent workout if you give it your all. Plus it feels damn good. Stop being so uptight about it.”
“It’s not that I’m uptight,” she protested. “I can get my freak on just as well as you. I just don’t feel the need to talk about it as much, that’s all. Nor am I comfortable going out and bringing someone home from the bar.”
“That’s how I met Rick,” Jo pointed out.
“Yeah, so I’ve heard. Just like you met three or four other guys after, before Rick convinced you to go out on a date.”
“I was in college!” Jo protested. “It was perfectly normal. Besides, it’s not like it was a week later. It took him three months to work up the courage. That is not that bad.”
Marie dropped it, not wanting to argue. The pot of water was boiling now anyway, providing a perfect distraction as she measured out some pasta by hand and tossed it in.
Jo may very well be right. Maybe she did need to get out there. Going on a date might not be that bad of a thing. It had been over a year, but the pain of how things had ended with her last relationship was still plenty fresh in her mind and on her heart. Only the focus on her search and getting back what was hers had helped her go on. Marie suspected that meant she’d never truly grieved, which was one of the things keeping her from moving on.
Could there be any harm in going on a date with Garath? He seemed nice, if a little out of place in the city. The fact that he’d been on the base meant that there was a record of him, he was a known entity, and therefore the military trusted him to at least the same degree they did her. That crossed off potential criminal from her list of things to worry about.
“You know that Garath and I are not a thing, right?” she asked, speaking up while the pasta cooked. “If I agree to let you help me get a date, you have to promise not to come on strong. I’m not interested in just fucking him. Got it?”
Jo’s cheeks dimpled as she smiled crookedly. “But you do want to fuck him!”
“Oh yes,” she said, finally relaxing a little. “And girl, you are going to be so jealous if I do.”
Her friend’s eyebrows lowered suspiciously. “Why is that?”
“He’s gorgeous. Stunning. Somewhere north of six feet, maybe six-four, six-five, in that range. Muscles like an Olympian. He lifted the Jeep from the ground and shoved it back out of the hole he made in the wall. Biceps this big.” She help up her hands, index finger and thumb curved into opposing C-shapes with a gap between them to show how large his arms were.
“Sounds dreamy so far,” Jo agreed.
“Then there’s his eyes. They’re so dark and mysterious, you’d think they were all pupil, but they’re actually really dark gray if you look deep enough. Which is tough when the rest of his face feels like it was taken from a
nudey-mag and plastered atop him. Jo, I have no idea why he seems to be interested in me, but trust me, he’s hot.”
Jo was fanning herself by this point as if she were getting hot and bothered just by the description of Garath. “And you’re sure he asked for your number?”
She laughed. “Fuck you.”
“It sounds like you like this guy.”
“I don’t know.” She shrugged. “It’s tough to say that after only having run into him twice, you know? But he was so polite, and after the crash he wanted to try so hard to help, I genuinely felt bad about sending him away. It was nice to see him again today. He was really friendly and just gave off the vibe of being a decent person.”
“So you’re going to say yes when he asks to see you again, right?”
Marie shifted from side to side. “I don’t know. Who says he’s going to ask?”
Jo just stared at her.
“I don’t know. Maybe. I—”
Her phone went off from the nearby island. Jo, having moved from the couch to a stool at the island, snatched it up before she could reach it.
“Well well well,” she said, reading the screen. “Do I win, or do I win?” She turned it over to reveal the preview.
Garath: Hi Marie. It was really nice to see you today. I was wond—
The rest of it wouldn’t be visible until she unlocked the phone. Snatching it from Jo’s hand, she opened it up, eager to know what the rest said.
I was wondering if you would have time at all this week that we could perhaps get together on purpose? As much as I’m enjoying our random meetings, I’ve been told I really need to stop driving cars through walls.
The last line made her giggle. Jo used that opportunity to snatch the phone from her hands and read the message.
“See!” she proclaimed triumphantly, holding the phone aloft. “I knew it. I knew it!”
Marie rolled her eyes. “Fine. You were right. He asked me out.”
“You had better say yes!”
“I don’t know. I’m so busy this week,” she said thoughtfully. “My only day off is Friday night, and that’s because I have to be at work early on Saturday!”
Jo looked at her sternly. “That’s basically a perfect date night. Stop being a bitch and tell him you’re free Friday.”
“I’m not sure I can.” She took a deep breath. “You write it.”
Jo’s eyes gleamed as permission was given.
“But I have to read it before you send it!”
“Of course. I’m not that mean. I actually want you to find someone, you know. I wouldn’t purposefully sabotage anything.” Her fingers flew across the screen as she talked. “Here.”
Marie leaned over to read the message.
Hey! It was good to see you as well. I’m glad to hear about the no-cars-through-walls rule. Probably a smart idea. I’m really busy this week. I do have a few hours on Friday, but I have to be back by a decent hour. Early to work on Saturday. I’m sure you know how that is. Does that work for you?
She read it a second, then a third time.
“Well, are you going to let me send it?”
Marie nodded, nerves robbing her of her voice. How the hell am I supposed to go on a date with him if I can’t even talk to my friend about a text message to send him? This is not going to go well. He’s going to think I’ve become a mute.
A minute later her phone lit up again. It was Garath.
Garath: Friday would be fantastic. What time can I pick you up?
Marie: Anytime after, say, five thirty?
She got up to check the pasta and drain it while Jo gave him the details, including where she lived.
“All done. He’s going to be here Friday around six. When do you get home? I’ll come over and help you get ready.”
Marie nodded gratefully. “Thank you.”
“That’s what friends are for. I just hope he turns out to be a good guy after all.”
“Me too,” Marie said, lost in thought. “Me too.”
She had a date. A real date. It was only Tuesday. How was she going to survive between now and then? The nerves were already eating at her.
Marie turned to her best friend. “What the hell do I wear?”
Chapter Six
Garath
He had a date.
He was on a date. Which meant she’d said yes, and meant it. Driving with the utmost care, he’d picked her up from the address indicated and taken them to dinner. It had been a stiff, formal affair, and on more than one occasion Garath had felt the evening slipping away from him.
It was so hard! He didn’t understand these modern women. Talking to them was difficult, and he had very quickly realized that attempting to woo her right from the start would not work. Marie was different. She was like a flower that bloomed only once a season, and only under the right conditions. If Garath was to have her open up to him, he was going to have to ensure the conditions were right.
He just hoped that he’d gotten the second half of their date right. If it turned out Marie wasn’t interested, he may have tanked his chances worse than driving a Jeep through her wall. The pressure was on, and it was robbing him of his conversational ability as they drove to the next location. Unused to feeling so impotent, the dragon shifter was growing angry. This was his mate. She needed to be courted properly, and he was failing.
Fingers tightened around the steering wheel as he thought of the other way he’d already failed his mate. The one she didn’t know about yet, but would in time.
It wasn’t my fault.
Anger simmered deep within him at the memory of the smooth-talking silver dragon who had swindled him out of his treasure, stealing it from under his nose when Garath had trusted him. It drove his distaste for other dragons. He would never trust another again.
“When do I get to find out where you’re taking me?”
“We’re almost there,” he assured her. “I want it to be a surprise.”
It was tough to tell in the darkened interior of the SUV, but he was fairly positive Marie’s cheeks were turning pink with enjoyment at the treatment. At least, that’s what he hoped it was. She deserved to be treated like a queen, and the first thing she needed to do was learn how to move like one.
Not three minutes later he pulled into a parking lot, and after three tries, finally got the vehicle parked without hitting something else. More than once during the process he’d caught Marie looking at him in consternation, the offer to intervene on her lips. She hadn’t, however, and in the end it proved unnecessary. It still burned his ego to show such inability in front of his mate. Garath couldn’t wait until they got inside so that he could prove to her he was, in fact, worthy of her. She would see. She would have to.
“Maximoff’s School o—”
“Noooo,” he said, taking Marie by the arm and guiding her away from the sign and inside. “Don’t read that. It’ll ruin the surprise.”
“I already read it,” she told him, looking down at where he’d automatically linked her arm in his as he swept her inside.
Garath tried to act normal, pulling open another set of doors to usher them into the main hallway of the building.
“Why are we here? Is there a show going on today?”
“No. No show,” he rumbled, looking into the windows. They were all dark except for the two sets of double doors ahead of him. Diffused light shone through the frosted glass. Garath stepped up and pulled them open. “I hope you’re ready.”
Marie, her arm still linked through his, followed him inside, her head craning around. “Ready for what? I still have no idea what we’re doing here.”
“You’re here for class!”
Both of them jumped as a slender man in tights and a low-cut V-neck bodysuit appeared in front of them with a twirl. “Don’t act like you don’t know.”
“Actually, it’s a surprise, so I have no idea.” Marie shot a look his way, but Garath studiously ignored her, examining the room they were now in.
It wa
sn’t overly large. Squarish in shape, the floor in the center was lined with a light wood. The back wall was covered in mirrors and bright potlights hung from the rafters above, highlighting the floor itself. Chairs and a few benches lined the other three walls. Several other pairs were spread out across the room. About half of them looked up to acknowledge the newcomers.
“Welcome to Ballroom 101!” the man exclaimed, clapping his hands together. “I’m so excited. You brought her here as a surprise?”
Garath nodded. “I did.”
Marie gaped at him. “Ballroom 101? With you? Are you nuts?”
For you.
He frowned at the insincerity of her tone. Something was wrong. She wasn’t excited. “I don’t think so. Why?”
“Because. Look at me. I’m not a ballroom dancer, not in the slightest. And most definitely not with you.”
Garath’s response was swept away as the exuberant male chimed in first. “Are you kiddin’ me? You look like the perfect partner for him. Just imagine being in his arms, swept around the floor as he guides you. Oh, what I wouldn’t give to have a chest of muscles like that to lie on every night! Whooo.”
A Latin-looking male sitting by himself nearby looked up and rolled his eyes.
“Quiet, Andre. You know I love that bony sternum of yours, m’kay?”
Garath was trying to follow the exchange, but it happened rapid-fire between everyone, the language and inflection throwing him off.
“I don’t know,” Marie repeated uncomfortably. She started to put her jacket back on. “I’ve never done anything like this before.”
“That’s why we’re here,” he said gently but firmly, taking the jacket from her hands. “To learn. This is a class for beginners.” He flashed a smile, hoping it would have the desired effect. “It’ll be fun, I promise.”
Marie finally relented, and they stepped out onto the floor at the instructor’s request, along with the other pairs. There were five groups in total, along with the two instructors, Andre and Peter, the man who welcomed them.
