Haunting Hephaestus (Gods of Olympus Book 9)

by Annalise Nixon

  “And in the meantime?”

  “How about making yourself useful and grabbing the blanket.”

  Destiny walked off in a snit, and he leaned his hip against the counter, thankful for the view as she bent over the arm of the couch.

  “Okay, now what?” she asked once she’d retrieved the blanket.

  He could think of a few dozen things he’d love to do on that blanket, and every variation ended with them both naked. “Let’s go catch dinner.”

  “I told you I had plans.”

  “With surfer boy?”

  “Let me also remind you what or who I do is none of your business.” She held the blanket in front of her like a shield.

  From the look in her eyes, he was the one in need of protection, and not the good kind.

  “Where’s the gear?” She walked to the front door and looked back at him. “Let’s get your embarrassment over with.”

  “Excuse me?” Amazing. He’d never seen a woman who had such a tough time staying angry. Most women could teach him a lesson about holding a grudge—and he considered himself a master. “Embarrassment? Come again?” Vulcan grabbed the basket and followed her out of the house, closing the door behind him.

  “You sir, are looking at the fish whisperer.”

  “Just how sure are you? Enough to make a small wager?”

  “How do I know you won’t cheat?” She studied him like she could decode all his secrets.

  “Are you asking if I can force the fish to take the bait?”

  “You tricked me into taking it. What chance do the poor fish have?”

  “Hopefully, none.” He headed down the well-traveled path to the creek. After looking over his shoulder a couple of times, he discovered his companion was as surefooted as a billy goat and graceful as a ballerina. Which made him wonder about her flexibility. Now that would be fun to discover. “About that wager…” he began. Anything to change the path his thoughts were about to travel to—again.

  “No thanks. I’ll pass.” They reached the bottom of the path, and she hopped over a small fallen tree.

  “I thought you were shy, not a coward.”

  “And I always thought you—” She shook her head. “Never mind.”

  “No, go ahead.”

  “For some reason, I thought that beneath that rough exterior of yours was a decent guy.”

  “And now?” He sat the picnic basket on a patch of light green grass and reached for the blanket.

  “I have no idea,” she said, her voice soft and the following smile hesitant.

  For Destiny, he could be that man. She used to look at him like he was… everything, and he wanted those sweet smiles and shy glances back. Starting now. “How about we enjoy nature and commence murdering a few poor speckled trout.”

  Destiny took the blanket from him and shook it to spread it on the flat patch of grass, then wasted no time testing it out with her back. “I needed this.” She sighed and closed her eyes.

  “What?” he sat down beside her. “Time alone with me? All you had to do was ask.”

  “If I weren’t certain I’d break my hand, I’d punch you in the throat.” She tried glowering but failed miserably by grinning.

  “Such violence.” Vulcan looked down at her smiling face and leaned back on his hands to keep from touching her. They slipped into a comfortable but confusing silence. After a few minutes of listening to the water whoosh over the rocks and savoring Destiny’s soft perfume each time a breeze shifted, Vulcan hopped up and extended a hand. “Come on. I want to give you plenty of time to clean my catch before I return you to your date.”

  Destiny didn’t release his hand as they walked to the creek. The creek was teaming with fish thanks to the melting snow and recent rains. “So what’s this bet?”

  “Loser cleans the catch.” He handed her a rig and a small tackle box filled with lures and hooks.

  “Not going to happen buddy.” She squatted and deftly picked a lure, tied it on, then cast it like she’d done it a million times. “Watch me work my magic.”

  Destiny hadn’t lied. The next two hours were enchanting. Earth wasn’t perfect and neither were its inhabitants, but damn it, they lived.

  Watching the small dimple appear in her cheek each time she giggled, and the wicked gleam in her dark eyes when she laughed in triumph, made him wish he had the ability to bend time. The lazy afternoon, filled with sunshine and laughter, was the first time he’d felt alive in…

  Far too long.

  Over fruit and cheese, Destiny shared stories of her life with the family she obviously loved and missed, but not enough to return to Denver. The thought of her staying in Jackson pleased him.

  Unfortunately, every charitable thought she’d ever harbored would vanish tomorrow. Perhaps in her next life they could… He shook his head. None of that mattered. He’d enjoy the afternoon of sunshine and laughter while it lasted. For in a few hours, she’d walk into the arms of another man. Would she also walk into Surfer Nerd’s bed?

  Probably, but at that moment, gazing at Destiny’s little pout as she looked at her three fish and his five, he knew this would always be one of his most cherished memories.

  “Destiny…” He leaned his rod against the tree and extended both hands.

  “Yes?” she answered leaning her pole against a boulder and placing her hands in his.

  “Thank you for coming.” And I regret what I must do, but a vow is a vow.

  Chapter 11

  Destiny paused at the cabin threshold for one last glance at the darkening skies with its large swaths of reds, purples, and blues. Talk about a day filled with revelations. While Vulcan didn’t speak of his personal life, watching, listening, and even laughing with him gave her a peek inside the fortress he’d built around himself. She’d been right all along. A kind heart lay beneath that gruff exterior.

  Conflicting thoughts warred in her mind. On one hand, she wished she could spend the evening grilling fish and getting to know the real Vulcan. Then again, that was a recipe for an emotional apocalypse. Their time together was nice, and lying around on the blanket teasing one another felt as intimate as a wedding night.

  And it could never happen again.

  She shouldered the cabin door open, since she carried a bucket of freshly scaled trout in one hand and a knife in the other.

  “Finally.” Vulcan lounged on the couch, his massive arms outstretched along the back. “Are those…” he began, leaning forward and squinting. “Scales in your hair?”

  “Bite me.” She poked her tongue out and closed the door with her foot.

  “Gladly,” he said, as he frowned and waved his hand beneath his nose. “But you’re going to have to do something about that smell first.”

  “I refuse to believe you didn’t cheat.”

  “What can I say? I have a gift.”

  Oh, that she didn’t doubt.

  She’d heard from more than one woman in town never to decline an invitation to Vulcan’s bed. But he’d gifted her with something those women had never received. His time. That didn’t necessarily make Destiny better, just different. Plus, since she’d decided her poor mortal heart wouldn’t survive anything more, friendship was the wiser choice.

  “You’re such a sore loser,” he said, still lounging on the couch.

  “Am not. And don’t get cocky. You only beat me by two fish.”

  “What’s that saying?” He stood and took the bucket and the knife from her. “Close only counts with horseshoes and hand grenades.”

  “May I use your shower?”

  “Of course. Do you need some shorts, a t-shirt or something?”

  “No. I took your advice and brought a change of clothes.”

  “Upstairs. Adjacent to my loft. You trust me enough to get naked in my house.”

  “Maybe I’m an idiot, but yes.” Herself? Not so much.

  So yeah, she did trust him not to murder her and hide the body in the woods.

  After grabbing her backpack, she hoofed
it upstairs. Once she reached the top, she paused at the sight of a bed large enough for a plethora of wicked activities. It had to be special order. What came after king, emperor size? Destiny chuckled and walked into the bathroom before she had any other crazy ideas.

  And… wow. The man loved his creature comforts.

  The bathroom fit the rest of the cabin—simple, rugged, and masculine—but the combination of natural stone, metal, plush rugs and tons of natural light gave it a sense of elegance.

  She paused in front to the wide stainless-steel counter, leaned closer to the mirror, and grimaced. Those really were scales.

  A soft knock sounded at the door. “Yes?” she asked, still studying her reflection in the mirror.

  “The towels are clean, and there’s shampoo, lotion, and hair stuff in the cabinet,” Vulcan said from the other side of the closed door. When she didn’t respond he added, “And before you ask, it’s mine. I wrapped your fish, so don’t forget it when you leave.”

  “Okay, thanks. I won’t be long.”

  “Take your time.”

  And she did.

  The huge walk-in shower felt like a massive grotto. The only things the stone enclosure lacked were trees and birdsong. She showered so long, she wondered if there was any hot water left when she was through. It was embarrassing, but the pressure was perfect, and the shower heads were decadent.

  After dealing with her hair, she slathered lotion on, then put on the light sweater dress and flats she’d brought with her. She peeked at the mirror. “Not bad.” One glance at her watch said she had time to get down the hill and throw on some makeup for her night out with Turi. She shoved her smelly jeans and top in the bag, tidied the bathroom, and scurried out to the bedroom.

  Earlier, she’d been excited about her date. Now? Not so much. All she could think of was Vulcan’s lopsided smile and the dry sense of humor she hadn’t encountered until today. “Gah, what is wrong with me?” Destiny said, pausing in her rush to leave Vulcan’s room, dropping her bag and flopping onto the bed, her arms spread wide.

  Turi was smart, easy to talk to, and nice. Plus, he was hot. The total package. Yet she still couldn’t get her mind off the man downstairs.

  She closed her eyes and couldn’t help but smile at the memory of Vulcan watching her when he thought she wasn’t paying attention and how he listened and asked questions. Today she’d been the focus of his attention, and damn it, she liked it.

  It was all so… Destiny inhaled and the bed smelled yummy. Clean and a bit woodsy. In other words, Vulcan’s bed smelled like him. She scooted higher, nabbed a pillow, and pressed her face against the soft down. What would it be like to wake up pressed against his hard body? She yawned. If she were being honest, it wasn’t the waking up part that interested her so much as what they’d do before.

  Destiny yawned again, and instead of fighting the heaviness behind her lids, sank into it. A couple of minutes was all she needed. Yeah, that sounded awesome. A ten-minute catnap, then she’d be ready to leave.

  At least that was the plan.

  Her eyes snapped open, and she lay frozen. Where in the heck was she? He hands drifted down her body and completed the bra and panty check. She was dressed but…

  No.

  How long had she been asleep?

  The loft was dark, and the navy blue curtains drawn tight. She jumped up and fumbled around for her bag, grabbed it, and sprinted to the stairs. The wooden planks were cool beneath her feet. Wait… she dropped the tote, retraced her steps, and slipped her feet into her flats.

  Of course this would happen—especially today.

  She flew down the stairs and skidded to a stop in front of Vulcan. “Why didn’t you wake me?” she yelled. Vulcan sat on the couch reading a book as if she’d been upstairs ten minutes instead of… she looked down at her watch. “It’s seven o’clock.”

  “You looked exhausted. And by the way, you were snoring.”

  “I do not snore, and you knew I had to leave.” She spun around, before she threw something at that block head of his. Destiny rubbed her eyes. It was time for an eye exam, because, no…

  She walked to the window and placed her fingertips against the glass. “What is that?”

  “Is that a rhetorical question? Because it looks like snow.”

  “Don’t be a smart ass.” For the second time in a day, she wanted to cause him bodily harm. “How could this have happened?”

  “Well, I did try to wake you. But you didn’t seem interested in leaving my bed.”

  Any other time, she’d be all over his little wordplay, but it was vital she left—tonight. “Vulcan, I can’t stay here.”

  “We don’t have much of a choice.”

  “There’s always a choice.” She looked down at her watch. “If we get on the road now, it might take a while, but we’ll reach town tonight.”

  “I know you don’t think much of me, but you’re willing to risk our lives for a date?”

  “No.” She shook her head. This could not be happening.

  “I didn’t know this guy was that important.”

  “It’s not about him.”

  “Then talk to me.” He slid a silver bookmark between the pages of the thick book he was reading and placed it on the antique trunk he used as a coffee table. “I know you’re an adult, but if you thinking about leaving my house in this weather… Not going to happen.”

  “Screw it. I’ll—”

  “Think carefully about your next words, because I don’t have a problem tying you to my bed. You know what? Try to leave. I can think of all kinds of delicious forms of torture.”

  “You’re not funny.”

  “Wasn’t joking.”

  “My life is ruined.” She looked out the window one last time and sank into the chair. “If I don’t get to Jackson tonight, I’ll lose everything.”

  “This storm could leave as quickly as it arrived. Everything will be fine.”

  “That may be so, but the roads will freeze. Then who knows how long we’ll be trapped.”

  “Hang tight.” He slapped his hands on his thighs and stood. “I’ll go grab some wood.”

  “No, I’ll get it. Maybe it’s not as bad as it seems.” Sure, and maybe those are marshmallows falling from the sky.

  “Fine.” He shrugged. “Jackets are in the closet.” He looked down at her feet. “There should be some boots in there too.”

  Destiny went to the closet and grabbed a jacket. Under different circumstances, the night would be the setup for a romantic comedy. In the movie the catastrophe would turn into something sexy and fun. But the way her luck was going her film would be more like Misery than While You Were Sleeping.

  “Here’s a flashlight.” Vulcan stood by the door waiting, watching.

  This was a freaking nightmare, but she couldn’t just stand around waiting for something to happen. If nothing else, she’d know she’d done everything she could to fix this mess.

  Step one: check the outdoor conditions. It said a lot about her mental state that she didn’t trust her eyes, but she had to go with her gut, or neurosis, whatever the case may be.

  Step two: if the weather was as frightful as it appeared, time to make a few phone calls and pray.

  Chapter 12

  “Let’s get that jacket off and get you dry.”

  Destiny stood in the cabin feeling like a Fudgsicle. She grew up in Denver then lived in Wyoming for almost five years, so she knew cold. But yikes, it was brutal out there.

  Vulcan peeled the jacket off her body and tossed it onto the floor. If her lips worked, she would have balked, not because he’d helped her, but because those hardwood floors were too beautiful to be abused. He wrapped a soft blanket around her and rubbed her arms.

  “Come on, sit.” Rather than wait for Destiny to move, he scooped her up and placed her on the couch before squatting in front of her and removing the tall black rubber boots she wore. “Whiskey or hot chocolate?”

  “B-both?” she stuttered as the feel
ing began returning to her lips.

  “Sounds like a plan.” He walked to the kitchen, and she couldn’t help but admire the view.

  Obviously, her little foray outside was a complete bust. She appreciated the fact that Vulcan didn’t attempt to dissuade her from leaving the cabin. And that he’d followed and helped carry the logs inside hadn’t gone unappreciated.

  “Here you go,” he said, handing her a large mug full of steaming liquid.

  “Ah, bless you.” Destiny wrapped her fingers around the mug and inhaled the chocolaty goodness. “This smells like heaven,” she said as he leaned her head against the back of the couch and closed her eyes.

  “Give me your feet.”

  Destiny’s eyes snapped open to find Vulcan seated in front of her, his back against the leather ottoman. Sitting there with one leg stretched out in front of him and the other bent at the knee, he looked like an ad from an outdoorsman magazine.

  When she didn’t extend her leg, he took her by the ankles and placed her feet under his olive Henley and against the warmth of his stomach. “Woman, your feet feel like icebergs.”

  “Hey,” she wiggled her toes. “My feet aren’t that big.” She sipped her spiked cocoa. “This is yummy. Thank you.”

  They sat in silence, and she did her best to ignore the hand absentmindedly rubbing her calves. The hot chocolate warmed her insides, and the man, the blazing fire, and the blanket took care of the other parts. She leaned back against the couch, tucked the mug against her blanket-covered chest and sighed. At least for the moment she was content.

  “That night at the gallery,” he began.

  “Hmm?” She looked away from the hypnotizing flames. The fire had nothing on Vulcan. The man could be the god himself. Well, except the Greek version, Hephaestus, was supposed to be ugly and crippled, and the man in front of her was neither.