by Ashlyn Chase
She giggled. “Anytime, stud.”
* * * *
Spending a week in bed was something Morgaine had never pictured doing… at least not without being ill. She and Sly had been constant companions ever since they’d returned from the morgue and had barely made it out of the bedroom long enough to avoid starvation. Gwyneth gladly took over the phone-sex calls.
Sly had said he would make love to Morgaine until she understood he really believed her to be the most beautiful woman in the world. She enjoyed being convinced thoroughly.
Other than setting up the wine-making operation in Sly’s kitchen, they hadn’t accomplished a thing.
“Sly?”
He propped himself on his elbow and dragged a finger over her torso. “Yeah.”
She shivered. “Don’t start that again.”
“Why not?”
She chuckled. “Because I’m getting sore.”
He snatched his hand back. “Why didn’t you say something?”
“I just did.”
“Oh.” Sly’s expression turned from one of concern to playfulness. He took a lock of her hair, curled it around his finger, and kissed it. “Imagine if we were both vampires. We’d never have to worry about too much loving. Even if we went at it like out-of-control jackhammers, you’d heal in seconds.”
Morgaine raised her eyebrows. She’d have reacted more forcefully, but (a) she didn’t have the energy and (b) she’d been thinking the same thing.
“Would you really want me to be undead with you?”
Sly shook his head sadly. “No. I wouldn’t wish that on anyone. It’s just that—”
He didn’t finish his thought. He simply levered himself to a seated position on the bed. Bending over her, he took her hand in his and caressed it.
“I love you, Morgaine. I never thought I’d love again, but God or the Goddess or whatever powers-that-be must have decided to give me a second chance.”
She opened her mouth to speak, but he placed his finger against her lips and whispered, “Shhh. I have more to say… much more.”
“All right.”
He kissed her knuckles and took a deep breath. “Before we got close, I liked you. I thought of you as a friend and a woman I admired.”
“And now…”
“Now, you’re all I could ever want or need. You truly are my beloved. My equal. My soul mate.”
He paused a little too long, so to encourage him, she said, “I feel that way about you too. Is there more?”
“Yes. Part of me thinks about losing you some day, and I picture the pain as insufferable. I don’t know if I could survive it. Physically, yes, but emotionally?”
Morgaine smiled weakly. “People can survive all kinds of things, Sly. Even losses we can’t imagine going through.”
“I suppose… but I’m not like most people. I’ll have to go through centuries, maybe millennia with only memories.”
“I know,” she whispered. “And even before that, you’ll have to watch me grow old while you don’t age a day, if we stay together.”
“Don’t you worry about that.”
“How do you know I’m worried?”
“I know women well enough to know what you’re thinking.”
She chuckled. “Maybe you do.”
“You’re my beloved. I’m never going to trade you in for a younger model.”
“So you say now.”
“Morgaine, I’m serious. I’ve given this a lot of thought…”
Looking at his face, she realized he was holding something back. It was something important so she’d better shut up and let him finish.
He ran a finger up her arm, making her tingle.
“Whatever you have to say, please say it before we get sidetracked.”
He grinned. “We do get sidetracked easily, don’t we?”
She smiled. “Yup.”
“Okay, no more beating around the bush. I was about to say that while I still have a believable birth certificate, I’d like to apply for a marriage license.”
Morgaine gasped. She knew she should say something, but the words got stuck in her throat.
“Will you marry a fifty-seven-year-old vampire, Morgaine? Will you be my wife?”
She still couldn’t speak so she merely nodded.
He grinned and dove for her. Scooping under her torso, he rolled until she lay on top of him.
“You just made me very happy,” she said with tears in her eyes. “I’ll do my best to make you happy too.”
“I already am.”
They shared a long kiss.
When at last Morgaine came up for air, she asked, “When did you turn fifty-seven? I thought you were fifty-six?”
“Well, actually my birthday is next month, but I figured I’d get used to the idea.”
“Whew. I thought I’d missed it. There’s still time to think of a gift.”
“No need. You just gave me everything I wanted.”
* * * *
Gwyneth opened her apartment door to let in the landlord’s wife. “Thanks for comin’ to visit me, Merry. Take a load off.”
Merry stuck a hand on her hip. “Excuse me?”
It took a moment to realize what might have upset her. “Oh, I didn’t mean y’all are a load or anythin’. It’s just an expression that means ‘set a spell.’”
Merry chuckled. “I knew that. I was just joking.” She gingerly seated herself on Gwyneth’s flowered couch. “Since Max was born, I’ve lost about twenty pounds, but I still have another ten to go. I can’t help feeling heavy. But my old jeans will fit again—some day.” She sighed.
Gwyneth offered a dismissive wave. “Oh, pshaw. You look wonderful. So, can I get y’all some sweet tea?”
“How about a small glass of milk, if you have it.”
“You got it.” On her way to the kitchen, Gwyneth asked over her shoulder, “How’s the little bundle of joy doin’?”
Merry chuckled. “He’s full of piss and vinegar, as Sly would say.”
Gwyneth laughed. “That’s prob’ly truer than it’s meant to be.”
She quickly poured the milk and arranged some cookies on a bamboo tray. She put the pitcher of sweet tea and an extra glass in the middle, just in case Merry changed her mind about the tea. Maybe she was worried about caffeine. Most new parents needed all the caffeine they could get after waking up a couple of times a night with a baby hollering for attention.
When she returned to the living room, Merry smiled. “This is the first time I’ve gone anywhere in a week. It was nice of you to invite me.”
“No need to go thankin’ me yet. Not that it isn’t nice just to share a snack and some gossip with y’all, but I kinda need to ask a favor too.”
“A favor? Sure.”
“I ain’t asked it yet.”
Merry chuckled. “I mean, sure, you can ask. If it’s something I can do, I will. What do you need?”
“Well, I was hopin’ y’all could talk to Jules. You see, that favor is for Sly, but Jules didn’t know what we was tryin’ to do and he kinda undid it.”
“Oh. Can you be more specific?”
Gwyneth took a deep breath. “Well, Morgaine and Sly went to New York right before Thanksgiving to get a cure for his vampirism.”
Merry’s posture straightened, and her eyes popped. “A cure? I didn’t know there was one.”
“Well, it’s only temporary, but it cures the worst parts of bein’ a vampire. I guess it takes the place of blood and Sly could walk around in sunlight without passin’ out or burnin’ up.”
“Wow. That sounds awesome. So what can I do to help?”
“Well, Sly’s probably too proud to ask and Morgaine thought we should let you rest and recover a little longer, but I saw no harm in askin’…”
“Sure. Go ahead, ask.”
“Well, it’s crazy expensive, but Morgaine figured out how to make more from what we got.”
“That’s great. And?”
“It’s like a sourdough-brea
d recipe. You know how they make it with starter?”
Merry nodded.
“Well, y’all have to add some of the old wine to new-made wine before it gets bottled.”
“Okay… so what do I need to talk to Jules about?” She sipped her milk.
“Well, Morgaine and I found a big wooden vat, and we’d like permission to stomp grapes down in the basement. Then we can put the stuff in bottles with the vampire cure and let it age where it’s the right temperature. We’re fixin’ to buy some wine racks too, if we get y’all and Jason’s okay. We want to make it as close to the real thing as possible.”
Merry shrugged. “I don’t think that would be a problem. You said Jules undid something you’d tried to do before?”
“Well, yeah. We had a still down there back when we was tryin’ to add the vampire wine to some moonshine. The idea was to make it stretch more and preserve it in a recipe my daddy used. Unfortunately, Jules found the still and took it apart. Threw out some perfectly good whiskey too, I reckon.”
“Well, that’s too bad.”
“It’s a damn shame. If the still weren’t illegal in the first place, I’d call it a crime.”
Merry raised her eyebrows. “So is making wine illegal?”
“Nah. Not for your own use. To sell alcohol is illegal, but that’s a racket the government’s got goin’. They want their tax money. If everyone made and sold their own under the table, the liquor stores would lose a lot of business and the government would lose out on all those taxes.”
“I suppose that’s true.” Merry mulled that over, then asked, “So how do you make your own wine?”
“Oh, it’s dead easy. It’s just sugar, water, yeast, and grape juice. When it’s all good an’ mixed together, y’all just pour it in a glass bottle and fix a balloon over the top.”
“A balloon? What does that do?”
“Well, it blows up with the carbon dioxide. You gotta make a few pinholes in the balloon to let it out.”
“Wouldn’t that keep the balloon from inflating?”
“Nah, the balloon gets big anyway. When it loses all its poof and goes flat again, the wine’s done. Y’all have to strain it through a pillowcase to catch the junk at the bottom, but the final stuff is plumb delicious.”
“Speaking of plums, I’ve heard of wines being made with fruits other than grapes. Have you ever tried to make other kinds?”
“Oh, heck, yes. My momma made raspberry, peach, and cherry wine. Any kind of fruit juice will do—exceptin’ orange or any other citrus.”
“You know what? That sounds like fun. I should talk to Jason first, but I’ll bet he’ll be fine with it.”
“Then y’all will tell Jules to leave it alone?”
“Yes. I’m sure he’ll be on board with it if we are. I’ve noticed he takes his responsibilities very seriously.”
“Let’s just hope nothin’ breaks. Morgaine sensed somethin’ weird goin’ on with him.”
“Weird? Uh-oh. What constitutes weird around here?”
“She said she thinks he lies a lot.”
Merry’s jaw dropped. “What has he lied about?”
“Well, she thinks he lied about his whole résumé. She don’t think he could fix a clogged sink with a bucket of Drano.”
“Hmmm… Jason’s Uncle Ralph recommended him. Said he had tons of experience, but I’ll admit, no one checked.”
“Oops. Well, I didn’t mean to tattle on him. He seems like a right nice man, and he’s been gettin’ real chummy with Lily.”
“You mean Lillian? That’s the new woman, right?”
“Yeah. She just goes by Lily. Have y’all… met her?”
“Just once. I’m afraid I’ve been a little preoccupied between the end of my pregnancy, a false alarm, and then Max’s birth. But that’s no excuse. I should go down and see how she’s doing.”
Gwyneth jumped up. “Oh, no need to do that. She’s just fine. Besides, Jules will take care of anythin’ she needs. I’m sure of it.”
Merry rose slowly. “Okay… I guess I could use a little more rest, come to think of it.”
“Oh, yeah. You should get all the rest you can while Jason’s around. He’ll be too busy once baseball season starts.”
Merry chuckled. “I hope I’ll be back to normal before then.”
“I’m sure you will, although I’ve known some women who’ve never—”
Merry held up one hand. “That’s okay, Gwyneth. Thanks for the milk. I’d better get back upstairs before Max wakes up and wants lunch.” She hefted her full breasts.
Gwyneth giggled. “I guess that’s best, since y’all are carryin’ around the restaurant.”
* * * *
Merry sidled up to her awestruck husband, who was staring into the crib at his sleeping son.
“He really is a miracle, isn’t he?” she whispered.
Jason nodded his head. “I never imagined…” His throat seemed to clog.
“I know. Me neither.”
He pivoted and pulled her into his arms for a long kiss. When he released her lips, he didn’t break their embrace. He simply tucked her head under his chin and stroked her back.
“Jason?”
“Mmm?”
“I need to ask you a few things.”
He stepped away and took her hand. “Let’s talk in the living room.”
When they were settled on the sectional sofa, she took a deep breath. Exactly how would she explain everything Gwyneth had told her?
“Okay, this is going to sound weird, but I just learned a couple of things from Gwyneth.”
“You learned from Gwyneth? That is weird.”
She smirked. “Be nice. She’s a lovely woman with a good heart.”
“And has a ghost as a roommate.”
“Be that as it may, she seems to know what goes on around here better than we do.”
“Yeah? What’s going on?”
“Well, first, they had a still in the basement.”
His eyebrows rose. “A still? Like a thing that makes alcohol? Aren’t stills illegal?”
“Yeah. They had a good reason… well, if what she said is true, and I see no reason for her to lie.” She placed her arm on the back of the sofa and massaged his neck. He always loved it when she did that.
“Ahhh… that feels good. Go on.”
“So, according to Gwyneth, there’s a kind of cure for vampirism made by some guy in New York. He preserves it in wine. It’s crazy expensive though.”
“And?”
“And apparently Sly and Morgaine went to New York and brought some of it home. They planned to reverse engineer it and preserve it in Gwyneth’s father’s whiskey recipe. Apparently the still was something she knew how to set up and she did it to help Sly.”
“Why didn’t they just ask us to pay for the cure?”
“His pride. You know how he didn’t even want to take the apartment for free. As far as I know, he’s still trying to think of a job he can do at night.”
“Too bad. I’d have bought the stuff for him just to have one less vampire in the building.”
Merry gasped. “There’s more than one?”
He chuckled. “No, not that I know of. But considering the folks that are attracted to living here…”
She blew out a breath. “Whew. You scared me for a minute.”
“Sorry, so go back to the weird story.”
“Yeah. They tried mixing some of the wine with the whiskey and it didn’t go well. As Nathan put it… ick, never mind.”
“So Nathan knew about it too? Did anyone bother to tell Jules?”
“Apparently he discovered it on his own and dismantled it.”
“Good. Seems like it could have been more than a legal hazard.”
“Yeah, but they’re back to square one. Apparently Morgaine had a psychic flash and knows how to make it now. They have to make their own wine and add a little of the vampire cure to it. If it ferments together, the whole bottle becomes the curative stuff.”
“No. Apparently it’s like sourdough bread in that way.”
Jason’s brows knit. “Huh? I don’t bake, sweetheart.”
She chuckled. “Oh, yeah. Well it’s the same principle. If you add a little of the old mixture to the new, it keeps it going.”
“And going and going and going?”
“Exactly.”
“And you wanted to ask me something. No, let me guess. You want to know if they can set up a winery in the basement.”
She grinned and batted her eyelashes at him.
“Oh, man. I know you so well.”
“Not a whole winery. It turns out that making wine for your own consumption is easy and legal. And it isn’t dangerous like a still would be.”
“I like the sound of that.”
“So do they have your permission to make the wine and store it in the basement? Apparently the cool temperature down there is ideal.”
He leaned over and rested his head in his hands. “Will I ever be able to say no to you?”
“Maybe if you don’t love me anymore.”
“Then I’m doomed. Because that’s never going to happen.”
She leaned over him and hugged his back. “Good.”
He sat up and gave her a real hug. Then he leaned back and looked her in the eye. “You said there were a couple of things…”
“Gwyneth told me something about Jules that was a little upsetting.”
“Yeah? What?”
“Well, Gwyneth said Morgaine suspects Jules of falsifying his résumé. As Gwyneth put it, ‘He couldn’t fix a sink with a bottle of Drano.’”
“Oh, boy.” Jason rose and began to pace. “It’s a little late to check his references now, isn’t it?”
“Did he give any references other than your uncle Ralph?”
Jason strode to his desk. “I barely glanced at his resume. I took Ralph at his word.”
“And Ralph probably believed whatever Jules told him. What if he’s a pathological liar? They can be very convincing. If something breaks…”
Jason pawed through the drawer until he found the folder he wanted. “Okay, under references it says he has twelve years of experience in apartment building maintenance at 70 Rowes Wharf. Why does that address sound familiar?”
“It sounds like it’s down on the waterfront.”
“It is.” Jason opened his laptop. “Let me check it out.”
