Utter Cupidity

by Toni L. Meilleur

  “I think we have her hook, line and sinker.” Eris smiled, delicately sipping a rather expensive wine. Psyche sat next to her at the bar.

  “I’ll believe it when I see it,” Psyche said skeptically.

  “Trust me.” Eris held up the keys to Brea’s office. “She’ll make the connection. I gave her a little bad luck to get things moving.”

  “Yeah, you called me down here to brag about what?” Psyche frowned, waiting to be impressed.

  “She has nowhere to go, no money and no friend to boo hoo to. With a few well-placed words she’ll be seeing Cupid as nothing but a bad omen.” She made an identical glass of wine appear in front of Psyche. “Drink up, little girl. I believe your soon-to-be-mortal husband will be back in your bed soon.”

  Brea pounded on the door of the condo. He’d better be here! Jordan opened the door with a towel wrapped around his narrow waist. Brea stared with her mouth agape. His hair was slicked back. A bead of water rolled from his impressive chest down the grooves of his muscled abs, and into the band of the towel. He was so delicious, wet and tempting…

  “You’re early,” was all he said, standing there looking perfect. It took Brea a moment to unscramble her brain to speak.

  “Yes, well I came to give you this back.” Brea balled up the check and threw it at him. It bounced off his chest and into her eye.

  “Dammit!” she cursed again, putting her hand to her eye. “That’s it, you’re bad for me, Areson. Stay away from me. I’ve had enough of your negativity!” She went to turn away to make a hasty exit, but he grabbed her about the shoulders and dragged her into his condo.

  Sixteen: Taking the tiger by the tail

  “What the hell are you doing? This is abduction!” Brea yelled as Cupid dragged her into his condo. She fought him like a wild animal. Somehow he managed to get her wrists locked together in one hand while he closed and locked the door with the other.

  “It’s not abduction when you came to my house,” Cupid replied, crossing his arms in front of his chest. “Now explain yourself.”

  “I have decided that you’re not good for me. You’re a bad omen, Jordan. You have your check, now I’m leaving.” Brea made a move to brush past him, but Jordan gently pushed her back then recrossed his arms.

  “You made a deal with me and accepted my check. Does your word mean nothing?” Her pride was definitely a sore spot, so he exploited it.

  “Look, since you have crossed paths with me I’ve experienced nothing but bad karma or whatever it is they call it. I’ve had enough.” Brea slashed her hand in the air to emphasize her point.

  “I’ve apologized and unless you give me a chance, you won’t be able to see how sincere I am. You didn’t seem this fed up earlier. What has happened since lunch?”

  Cupid was getting the feeling that someone was sabotaging him again. At this rate, he was definitely looking at a very mortal life.

  “It would be easier to answer what hasn’t happened.” Brea began using her fingers to tick off the day’s events. “First, you show up, which is an automatic deal breaker for a good day.” Cupid ignored the insult. “Second, Lindie’s witch of a grandmother shows up, depriving me of much-needed assistance. Then my landlord calls to inform me that my apartment building had a fire and I can’t come home or gather any belongings. If that’s not enough, my bank’s computer system crashes and I am left without a workable dime to check into a hotel.” Brea took a deep breath.

  “I admit you have had a bad…”

  “But wait there’s more!” Brea mimicked the famous sales line. “So I decided to sleep in my office, but wouldn’t you know, I lost the damn key! So I traced all this bad luck back to you, Jordan Areson. Ever since you stepped in my office, my life has gone to shit. Thank you very much but I certainly don’t need help screwing up my life!” This time she brushed past him, bumping him on purpose.

  “Where are you going if you don’t have any money?” Cupid tried very hard to keep the condescending tone out of his voice, but she was acting irrationally.

  “To my car if you don’t mind.” She was trying to figure out how to work the locks.

  “Stay here,” Cupid said simply. Brea’s fingers froze.

  “What did you say?”

  “I said stay here. There’s more than enough room, and besides, you’ll become better acquainted with the feel of the place. I can give you a cash advance to tide you over until the mess with your bank clears up.” It all sounded very reasonable to his ears.

  “That’s stupid!” Brea retorted. “I don’t work for you remember? Besides it sounds like you’re just trying to get me into bed. I said our relationship is purely professional.”

  “Okay, you have to decide—do you or don’t you work for me? If our relationship is purely professional then you work for me. If indeed I am trying to get you into bed then it’s personal—you choose.”

  “You’re twisting my words.”

  “You’re hedging. Think about it, Brea, you can’t just sleep in your car. It’s not charity because you’re earning the money by decorating as you agreed to do in the first place.” Cupid hoped she didn’t continue to be unreasonable; he’d force her to stay here physically if he had to. There was no way she was sleeping in her car. Her fingers started working the locks again; Cupid blew out an exasperated breath. “Brea, think about—”

  “Oh, save it, I’m just getting my check out of the hall before someone steals it!” Brea grumbled. “I’ll be right back. I left some stuff in the car.”

  “She’s a handful,” Hermes murmured softly when Brea left. Cupid turned around to see his friend leaning against a wall.

  “More than you know.” Cupid ran his fingers through his wet hair. “Anything new?”

  “I’m working on it. I just came from consulting with Hecate and she gave me a possible way to find Arachne.” Hermes went to the window, waiting for Brea to appear.

  “Hecate? Her help comes with a price. She still hasn’t gotten over not being invited to sit on the Olympian Council.” Cupid gave his friend a sympathetic look.

  “Yes, well I plan on passing the debt on.” Hermes spotted Brea getting a bag out of her car. “How did you manage to convince her to see you?”

  “Desperation, thank Olympus for a bad economy. She needed the money. Though I have to say, someone has been meddling in her life, only this time it worked in my favor.” Cupid gave him the story Brea told to him. Hermes whistled.

  “Well, someone is definitely out to get you, Cupid. She’s on her way back. I have to stop by Ashe Bay to collect some of Arachne’s web for Hecate. I’ll keep you posted—good luck.”

  Good luck indeed. He would need it where Brea was concerned. He’d made a very chivalrous comment about respecting the business relationship, but he didn’t promise her. If he couldn’t win her heart while she was living with him then he most certainly deserved to be mortal.

  “You’re an idiot!” Psyche screamed the words at Eris as she scattered the images in the scrying bowl. “The only thing you’ve done is make it easier for him to seduce her. ‘Trust me’, you said. He’s going to make sure that place is warded to keep us out!”

  “I didn’t see you coming up with any ideas, you little crackpot! I don’t need this!” Eris was about to leave when Psyche stopped her.

  “Wait! Don’t go, you’re the only friend I have,” Psyche wailed.

  Eris groaned. She didn’t want to consider herself Psyche’s friend. She saw an opportunity to cause trouble and she took it. This was one of those times her father referred to when he said she should take the time to think about her actions before she carried them out.

  “Fine, but no more name calling, understood?”

  Psyche yelped in glee. “All right, my banana brain friend, let’s figure out how we can turn this situation around.”

  Eris rubbed her hands together devilishly.

  Cupid changed into some comfortable clothes then ordered Chinese while Brea showered. He went to retrieve blankets for
himself to sleep on the floor until a impish thought entered his head. He willed all the blankets away but one and made the bed. He was glad he hadn’t brought any furniture at all when he decided on coming here to finish what he started.

  He poured two glasses of wine when he heard Brea exiting the bathroom. Setting the glasses down, he waited for her entrance. She stepped into the kitchen wearing one of his long shirts that reached well past her hips. Her hair hung wet and curly in one ponytail high at the back of her head. Her face, scrubbed clean of makeup, looked innocent and sensuous at the same time.

  He let his gaze travel leisurely to her smooth bronze thighs, to her shapely calves, to her bare feet. On one of her toes she wore a silver band with a Celtic knot. He regretted not being able to fully appreciate her beauty the night they’d made love at the campsite. He was more than willing to make up for it now.

  “You’re staring.” She picked up a glass of wine.

  “You’re beautiful.” He picked up his glass and clinked it with hers.

  “I think I’m becoming an alcoholic, this is my third drink today.” She took a sip anyway.

  “Well, considering the day you’ve had I would say you deserve it.” Cupid leaned on the counter. “As much as I hate to say this, tomorrow you and I are going to get you some clothes to wear.”

  “I don’t want to be a burden, I understand you move about a lot—and aren’t you going to some wild, exotic place soon?”

  “No, the time for being a nomad is over for now, I have other matters that require my full attention.”

  “A business man, I can appreciate that. So what business do you have in Canton, Jordan?”

  “Acquisitions,” he answered readily, then the doorbell rang.

  “I didn’t know you had a doorbell. I didn’t see it on the way in.” Brea looked mildly surprised.

  “We have a doorbell,” he called back as he went to answer the door. “You probably missed it when you were breaking down my door in a rage.”

  A few minutes later Cupid had the food spread out on the kitchen counter. “I forgot something.” He snapped his fingers then went into the other room. Sarah McLachlan’s voice floated into the room, Cupid came back into the kitchen with a grin on his face. “She makes food taste better.”

  Brea smiled back, digging into the food. Cupid stood across from her as they ate while listening to the music. Light conversation flowed between them, an hour later Brea was sitting on the counter next to Cupid. They were laughing about the absurdity of Brea’s day.

  “My mother always said ‘when it rains it pours’.” Brea sighed.

  “You sound like you miss her.” Cupid wanted to reach out and stroke her cheek but he refrained. It was too soon.

  “I do, she’s been dead about three years now. She was my best friend.”

  “How did she die?”

  “Being a hero,” Brea said sadly. “She volunteered at a drug rehab center. A guy walked in whacked out on drugs. He just started shooting, shot my mom three times. She was a hero to me, always trying to help.” Brea sniffed.

  “I agree, she was a hero. I’m sorry you lost her. What about your father?”

  “My mother said he wasn’t ready to be a father so she asked him to leave when I was two. He left without looking back once. I don’t remember him, so I don’t miss him.”

  “Your mother sounds like a strong woman. I can see she passed that on to you.” Cupid meant it. if Brea was anything, she was strong. He had never met anyone like her.

  “Thanks, I’m tired. I think I’ll turn in now. Where am I sleeping?”

  Cupid had forgotten about the sleeping arrangements until now. “I only have one bed and no couch. I can sleep on the floor…”

  “Do you have extra blankets? I could sleep on the floor. I am sort of crashing here.”

  “Don’t be silly, you take the bed. I don’t have any extra blankets, but one night on the floor won’t kill me.” Cupid hopped off the counter.

  He began cleaning up the food and putting it away, Brea helped. “Okay, I can’t let you sleep on your own floor. We’re adults and we can sleep in the bed together without—well you know. Right?”

  “Of course,” Cupid agreed and he wasn’t lying—technically they could. He didn’t say he wanted to.

  “Okay.” Brea closed the refrigerator.

  “Okay,” Cupid echoed, extending a hand for her to go first.

  He watched her plump bottom shift under his shirt and he licked his lips. Perhaps this wasn’t such a good idea. He didn’t know how he was going to spend the night in the same bed with the most beautiful, desirable woman he had ever met and not touch her. Especially when his body remembered her and liked her—a lot! It was going to be a long night.

  Seventeen: Home advantage

  For the millionth time, she changed positions. Every part of her body was aware of Jordan lying next to her, and her body wanted to play with his. But she had to repeatedly chastise her traitorous body by reminding herself of the hurt he had caused her in Ashe Bay. He was still in love with his ex-wife. He saw no future for them. Still, Brea’s body ignored the echoes of her broken heart.

  He’d removed his shirt before bed, and at least three times, her bare arm had brushed his taut, smooth back…arm…back. Arrrgh! She shifted again to her back in frustration as the shirt she was wearing was riding up her thighs. Jordan shifted and his hand brushed her thigh. Brea’s breathing momentarily stopped. She wasn’t sure what she would do if he touched her on purpose. After a few seconds, she realized the touch was by sheer accident. Perhaps he was sleeping and unaware.

  Letting out her breath slowly, she decided that maybe if she stopped fretting about not falling asleep, she’d fall asleep. She began to focus on the day’s events and wondered how much bad karma she must have out there to have such a healthy dose of sour luck. She’d had enough things go wrong in one day to write a country song. Brea giggled to herself.

  “Want to share the joke?” Jordan’s voice was slightly muffled by the pillow.

  Well, that answered her question about whether he was sleeping or not. “It’s private, you wouldn’t get it.”

  “Humor me.” He changed positions so that he lay on his side. “It doesn’t seem as if the sleep fairy is going to visit anytime soon.”

  “You’ll think I’m crazy,” Brea hedged.

  “That happened quite a while ago. You’ve nothing to lose.” Out of the corner of her eye she saw Jordan’s smile and she fell victim to it.

  “I was thinking about writing a country song,” Brea said quickly.

  “Well, let’s explore this. What would the song be about?” Jordan propped himself up on one elbow and looked down at her.

  “Well, I don’t have a dog, so that’s out. But my house burned down, I don’t have any money and my best friend deserted me—sort of.” Brea giggled and Jordan chuckled.

  “I think a country song is the way to go—it’d be hard to rap about that.”

  “Who said anything about rap?”

  “You know, in case the country doesn’t fly,” Jordan said, pretending seriousness.

  Brea pulled the pillow from under her head and swatted him with it. Jordan grabbed it and pummeled her relentlessly. Brea held up her hands in surrender. “Okay, fine, I’m sorry,” she laughed. Jordan hit her one more time before tossing the pillow back at her.

  “You shouldn’t hit with pillows if you can’t defend yourself.” He laid back on his pillows, his hands cupping the back of his head.

  “Who says I can’t defend myself?” Brea rolled over with the pillow in her hands. She straddled him about the waist, and put the pillow across his face in an attempt to smother him.

  Smoothly, Jordan grabbed her about the waist and flipped her so that now he straddled her. He yanked the pillow out of her hands and tossed it carelessly. Brea looked up at him with her wide hazel eyes. Even with tousled hair he was gorgeous. He stared down at her with eyes so blue she could see them in the dark. They stayed that wa
y for a few heartbeats before Jordan lowered his head and kissed her on the lips.

  Against her better judgment Brea found herself responding. Her body screamed accolades at her. She ignored her first instinct to stay clear of any romantic ties. His kiss was addictive, erotic as his soft hair brushed against her cheeks. He kissed her slowly, with so much skill that he drove all thought from her mind.

  Slowly, he ended the kiss. As he pulled back he stared into her eyes, never seeming to blink.

  “I’m sorry, Brea, for any hurt I’ve caused you. Please give me another chance.” He carried his own weight as he waited for her answer. Brea wanted to scream “yes” until her throat hurt. But if she was ever to learn from her mistakes, she couldn’t go backward.

  “I’m sorry, Jordan. I can’t. There can’t be anything between us.” She turned her head to the side to avoid his eyes. She felt him move and she knew he sat next to her. She knew he was watching her.

  “I don’t know what happened, other than what you told me. It sounds crazy I know. I wasn’t myself. I swear it won’t happen again. I want you, Brea, you excite me like no woman has ever done. You can feel what’s between us; I know you can. Think about it.” Brea felt the bed shift as he lay down.

  And she was supposed to sleep on it, right? Arrrgh!

  Bleary-eyed, Brea called it a night and joined Jordan in the kitchen. The sunshine shone with a comforting warmness in the condo. It was definitely something to keep in mind when she began decorating the place. The smell of coffee drifting in the air was seductive. Jordan was leaning against the counter, swilling the brew. He pointed to the second Styrofoam cup sitting on the counter.

  “You look like how I feel,” Brea said, scratching her head and picking up the much needed beverage.