“Oh, just making out and stuff,” Vance said as his attention remained affixed to the two Humane Society officers removing a pit bull from an abandoned house in Detroit.
“Oh, okay…cool,” Danielle said, rolling her eyes as Boston’s mouth gaped open in astonishment. “I guess Vance is proving to be more fun than Steph, huh, Bost?”
“He’s only kidding, Danielle,” Boston said, fairly leaping off the couch and walking toward Danielle.
Danielle giggled. “Sure he is.”
Boston smiled as she hugged her friend. “How was your day?” she asked.
“Don’t ask,” Danielle sighed.
“Same here.”
“Your pal Dempsey brought over some stuff for you, Danny,” Vance called from his seat on the couch. “I put it on the table.”
“Oh, really?” Danielle said, nearly dashing to the table. She hurriedly flipped through the papers and envelopes Dempsey had left for her until she found the envelope with her name on it. Fairly ripping it open, Boston watched as a smile spread across Danielle’s face—a resplendent, elated smile. In fact, her entire face seemed to radiate joy suddenly.
“A Dempsey party, Bost!” Danielle exclaimed. “Oh my heck, I’m so excited!”
“When is it?” Boston asked, delighted by Danielle’s perfect glee.
“Not this Saturday but the next one. Oh my heck, Vance! Dempsey throws the best parties.”
“Does he now?” Vance said. He turned and looked over his shoulder, winking at Boston conspiratorially. “Well, he invited me too. So I guess I’ll have to see what all the excitement is about, now won’t I?”
“A Dempsey party!” Danielle exclaimed again. Boston was astounded at the change in Danielle. One note from Dempsey had done all this? “Suddenly, I don’t feel so worn out.”
“Good,” Boston said. “Because tonight’s class is supposed to be pretty challenging.”
“Oh, well. We’re up for it,” Danielle said. “I want to take a quick shower though.” Danielle glanced at her brother and then back to Boston. “Would you mind making out with Vance just a little longer while I freshen up?”
Boston felt herself blush. She couldn’t figure out why she was blushing. She knew the teasing about making out with Vance was just all in good fun. Still, as Vance patted the sofa cushion next to him and winked at her, she blushed all the same.
“Not at all,” Boston said.
“Come on, leopard girl,” Vance said. “You ought to like this. They’re going into a house filled with feral cats next.”
“Leopard girl?” Danielle asked.
“Don’t ask,” Boston whispered.
“I won’t,” Danielle giggled as she headed for her bedroom.
“Hey, your purse is buzzing,” Vance said.
Boston hurried to her purse and retrieved her cell. The caller ID told her it was Logan. Unwittingly, Boston quickly looked to Vance. His attention seemed entirely arrested by the Detroit Humane Society, and she certainly needed something to arrest her attention from the butterflies that had somehow taken flight in her stomach at the sight of him.
She answered, “Hello?”
“Hey, Boston!” came Logan West’s masculine voice. “What’re you doing?”
“Um…my friend Danielle and I are getting ready to leave. We have a cake decorating class tonight.”
“Sounds fun,” Logan said. “What are you doing Friday night?”
“Uh…well…I usually…I sort of have other plans,” Boston stammered. She couldn’t believe she was putting him off! Sure, she and Danielle got together every Friday with their friends, but that wasn’t something to miss a date with hottie Logan West for—was it?
“That’s cool. How about Saturday then?” he asked.
“Saturday’s great,” she said. For a moment, however, she wondered—did she say Saturday was great because she really wanted to go out with Logan? Or did she say Saturday was great because she didn’t want to make Logan feel bad?
“Fabulous!” he said. “I was thinking dinner and a movie Saturday night. What do you think?”
“I’d love it,” Boston said. She looked away from Vance Nathaniel sitting on Danielle’s sofa watching Animal Cops. Closing her eyes, she forced her mind to produce a vision of Logan West. It helped—it really did.
“Okay…then let’s say I’ll pick you up at five. How’s that sound?” Logan asked.
“Sounds perfect!”
“I’ll see you Saturday then.”
“Okay. Thanks, Logan,” Boston said.
“Anytime. Bye.”
“Bye.”
An odd feeling of confusion washed over Boston as she took a seat on the sofa next to Vance. She was elated that Logan had called and asked her out—at least, she thought she was. Yet, as Vance grimaced, wrinkling his nose as the narrator on the TV episode began describing the strong stench of ammonia permeating the house filled with feral cats, Boston experienced a moment of doubt.
Inhaling a deep breath, however, Boston consciously reminded herself of how long she’d liked Logan, of what a gentleman he was, of how he would never tease her about her leopard-print panties or making out while Danielle was gone. Logan West was a dream, and she couldn’t let Vance’s good looks and charming personality distract her. Boston inhaled deeply again—her resolve strengthened, her memory of just how wonderful Logan was refreshed.
“Dang, Boston!” Vance exclaimed, however. Boston looked over to him to see him still grimacing as he pulled his ratty white T-shirt up over his nose. “Don’t inhale it like that. It’s cat urine for crying out loud!”
But Boston giggled. “It’s on TV, Vance,” she said, pointing to the television set. “You can’t inhale it.”
“Even so,” Vance said, still holding his T-shirt up over his nose.
“Correct me if I’m wrong,” Boston began, “but you are a zoologist, right?”
“Well, yeah! But that’s way different than this,” he said, nodding toward the TV.
Boston smiled and shook her head with amusement. She hoped Danielle would hurry. The impending, insatiable attraction she was beginning to feel toward Vance was increasing again. She needed to get to the cake decorating class so her mind could clear and think more rationally.
At that moment, Steph’s venomous voice popped into her head. I saw him first. Just remember that, Boston. As Steph’s voice echoed through her mind, Boston wondered why Steph’s ridiculous demand had even affected her in the first place. Boston certainly didn’t have any interest in Vance, other than maybe as a friend. Furthermore, she knew Vance had read Steph too perfectly. Steph wasn’t about to draw him into her sticky web, so there was no need to worry about his well-being in that regard.
She just needed to get to cake decorating. Then her mind would clear. Then she could focus again—focus on her job expectations, on the mystery that was Danielle and Dempsey, on moving out of Stephanie’s apartment.
“Want some?”
Boston was startled from her thoughts by Vance’s voice, his hand holding out a package of Juicy Fruit gum toward her.
“Um…sure. Thanks,” Boston said, removing a stick of gum from the package.
“It should help with the smell,” he said, nodding toward the TV.
Boston giggled. He was so funny. Yet her next thought was that maybe the feral cats episode had triggered a scent memory for Vance. No doubt animal scents were familiar to him.
“Don’t tell her I know,” he said, lowering his voice.
As Boston placed the gum on her tongue, her mouth flooded with happy moisture at the sweet, distinct taste. “Don’t tell her you know about what?” she asked, though she wasn’t quite sure why she whispered.
“About the Dempsey thing,” he explained in a whisper.
“Oh, I wouldn’t,” she said. “We’ll keep it just between us.”
Vance nodded. “Agreed.”
Something in Boston’s bosom felt suddenly more alive. She and Vance shared a secret! The knowledge delighted he
r for some reason. For some reason, she liked knowing there was something she and Vance shared that no one else did.
“Logan West,” Boston mumbled to herself then.
“What’s that?” Vance asked, pulling his T-shirt up over his nose as the narrator began talking about the conditions of the feral cat house again.
“Oh, nothing,” Boston said, as she continued to force images of Logan West to the forefront of her mind.
Chapter Five
Boston’s eyes felt dry and heavy. She just wanted to sleep, to be comfortable in her own bed. But that wasn’t going to be the case any time soon. She wondered if she would ever be able to get a good night’s sleep again.
The past few days found Steph more and more angry, more hateful and cruel, more intolerant of Boston’s very presence. Things had gotten so bad that by Thursday, Boston had taken to simply leaving work and heading straight for Danielle and Vance’s apartment. She’d even thought about sleeping in her car, afraid Steph would prank her in the middle of the night while she was capturing a few hours of sleep.
Over and over Vance had offered to share his bed with her. Over and over Boston had smiled, thanked him, and politely refused—even though, by the time he offered the place next to him on Wednesday night, his face was so lacking in teasing expression, she wondered if he might be serious. Maybe he was tired of her hanging out in his space, of being there from the time he walked in from work at night until he went to bed after his evening run.
Tired, frustrated, and simply worn down, Boston had finally decided to ask Kara if her parents would mind if she threw a sleeping bag down on Kara’s bedroom floor for the next three weeks. She didn’t want to impose—she didn’t want to inconvenience Kara’s family—but she knew them all, and she knew they would be welcoming, even for the inconvenience. She’d decided she would talk to Kara about it Friday night while everyone was hanging out at Danielle’s. Still, that was twenty-four more hours away, and at that moment—as Boston lay on Danielle’s sofa waiting to go back to her apartment at midnight, when she was sure Stephanie would be in bed—twenty-four hours might as well have been twenty-four days.
Danielle had gone to the grocery store. Boston had never understood how Danielle could stand to shop at ten o’clock at night, but she did. Danielle said it wasn’t as stressful. After all, the crowd was gone by then, and she could peruse the aisles as long as she wanted. Danielle never made a shopping list—simply meandered up and down each and every aisle until her eyes lit on something she needed.
Vance was gone too, out for his evening run. It seemed he’d picked up the frequency and length of his runs lately. Boston knew it was her fault. She figured Vance must be nearly as frustrated with his lack of privacy as Boston was with Steph’s hateful attitude. Yet Boston didn’t know what else to do.
She was so tired! Two more hours and she could go home. The apartment was quiet with Danielle and Vance gone, and Boston bathed in the calm quiet. The low hum of the refrigerator in the kitchen, the rhythmic ticking of the clock on the wall, and the steady droll of passing traffic on the street beyond served as a soothing white noise, and Boston drifted into a deep, rather hard sleep.
Boston heard the apartment door open but couldn’t seem to force herself to full waking. She tried to open her eyes, to force her body to alertness, to sit up. She wondered for a moment if Danielle had returned from grocery shopping or if it were Vance coming in after his evening run. Yet even the foggy, semiconscious knowledge it might indeed be Vance did not rouse Boston thoroughly.
In the next moment, she could sense someone standing over her. Wake up, her mind demanded. Yet great emotional and physical fatigue was weighing her down.
She did manage to mumble, “Just give me a minute. I’ll be up in a minute.”
“This is just bull…” Vance said, his voice trailing off as he swore under his breath. “That chick’s unreal!” he growled.
It was Vance standing over her! Boston forced dry, tired eyes open and gasped as she felt herself suddenly being lifted off the sofa, cradled in powerful arms.
Even startled as she was, Boston’s drowsy state handicapped her. As her arms weakly encircled Vance’s neck as he carried her, she argued, “What the heck, Vance? I’ll leave in minute. Just let me wake up a little bit.”
“How much stuff do you have over in your apartment?” he asked as he carried her toward the bedroom.
“Not a lot,” Boston answered. She was quickly regaining her bearings. He smelled like Juicy Fruit and warm night air. The back of his neck was moist with perspiration, and Boston was astonished that she didn’t mind. “Why?”
“Well, you’re moving in here Saturday, and I just wanted to get an idea of how long it’s going to take us to get your stuff out of there and over here.”
“What are you talking about? And what are you doing?” Boston asked as Vance nudged the door to his bedroom open with one foot.
“I got a call today, and my house is ready,” he explained as he walked toward the bed. “I can move in Saturday. All my stuff is already there because it’s been stored in the garage. So I figure we’ve all had enough of this skank roommate of yours, so we’ll just spend Saturday moving you in here. Meanwhile, you’re gonna take a nap before you go home tonight. I’ve got some paperwork I’ve got to fill out for the zoo before I can go to bed. So you take a little nap. I’ll only charge you ten bucks an hour to use my bed. So for twenty bucks, you ought to be a little better rested before you go back to that wench you’ve been sharing an apartment with…if you can call the fact that she won’t hardly let you breathe the air there sharing an apartment.”
Abruptly, yet somehow gently, Vance dropped Boston onto his bed.
Boston opened her mouth to argue, but he said, “In fact, because I’m such a nice guy, I’ll knock off the bed rental fee…give you a cut-rate deal on a nap. How does free sound? I’ll wake you up in an hour or so. Enjoy the witch-free-zone peace and quiet.”
He turned to leave.
“Wait a minute,” Boston said. “You’re moving out Saturday? This Saturday?” she asked.
“Yeah,” he said, grinning. “I’m stoked too! I worked hard to buy that house. It’s about time I got to enjoy it, don’t you think?”
“Well, yes…but…” she stammered.
“Shh. Catch some z’s before you have to head back to snake lady.” He smiled—a perfectly dazzling, mischievous smile—and added, “Or…my offer still stands. You and me…we could have a sleepover.”
Boston rolled her very tired eyes and smiled at him. “I’ll take the nap, thank you.” She pulled a pillow beneath her head and punched it a couple of times.
“Man! It’s a good thing I don’t let continuous rejection mess with my head,” Vance mumbled as he closed the door behind him.
Boston giggled and snuggled into the pillow and bed, sighing with sudden and unexpected contentment. The pillow smelled like Vance, and her smile broadened. She decided not to cover up with a blanket—that way she wouldn’t sleep too deeply. She’d be sure and wake up easily when the time came.
She closed her eyes, smiling again as a vision of Vance dressed in the armor of some medieval knight and riding across a hillside on a white horse floated across her tired mind. She should’ve argued with him—insisted on going home right then rather than lingering to take a nap on his bed. But what woman could’ve resisted such a chivalrous gesture as being carried to bed by a handsome road-construction-worker–slash–zoo-exhibits-curator? Not to mention that Danielle’s apartment was dreamily homey and comfortable, so void of contention and electric emotion. Surely an hour more wouldn’t matter. Further, it appeared she’d only have to endure living with Steph for this night and one more. Vance’s house was ready. Hurray! The room Vance had carried her to would soon be her own. She couldn’t wait. For now, however, she’d simply relax—bask in the knowledge she could sleep for an hour or so without worrying whether or not Steph would dump a bucket of water over her or something.
&nbs
p; Boston sighed and drifted to sleep, comforted by the knowledge that Vance was in the next room, filling out his paperwork.
Danielle stepped into her apartment and dropped the grocery bags in her arms. Vance looked up from his place at the table. There were papers spread over nearly the entire surface, and he looked tired.
“Two bags?” he asked, looking up at her. “You were gone for two hours and you brought home two little bags of groceries?”
Danielle shrugged. “I couldn’t think of what we needed,” she lied. The truth was Danielle had left the apartment hoping Vance would return from his run before Boston left to go back to her own apartment. She’d seen the way Boston tried not to be delighted in Vance’s company, the way Vance limited his time with Boston. She studied her brother for a moment—his tousled hair, the dark circles under his eyes. “Why are you still up?” she asked. “You look tired…and don’t you have to be up early?”
“I had some paperwork to finish,” he mumbled. “Not to mention the fact I was worried about you being gone so long this late at night.”
Danielle smiled, kissed her brother on the top of the head, and began putting the groceries away. “Well, I’m home now…so you should turn in,” she said.
“I will,” he said. “Um…would you mind if I slept on the couch tonight?” Vance asked.
“No…not if you really want to.” Danielle frowned. Her heart began to beat harder as worry and fear swept over her. “Are you having trouble sleeping again, Vance?” she asked. Silently she prayed that it wasn’t that—that Vance’s torturous insomnia hadn’t returned after so many years.
Kiss in the Dark Page 8
