I must have looked kind of odd, because Kevin reached across and pulled me to him. “I’m teasing you.”
“Oh. I know.” Pressing my palms to his chest, I stepped back. “Do you want something to drink?”
“Water would be great.”
I felt his eyes on me as I walked away. Once in the kitchen, I settled myself. I wanted to enjoy myself with Kevin. With that thought in place, I poured us each a glass of water. Heck, with the lemon slices, it sort of looked appealing.
“I’m rubbing off on you,” he said, accepting his glass when I returned.
“I don’t always drink coffee.” Though, close.
After we situated ourselves in the living room, a strange sense of semi–déjà vu hit me. Yep. Same place (my apartment), same woman (me), different drink (water, not coffee), different man (Kevin in place of Nate), and similar yet somehow different emotions. Weird, but there you have it.
Kevin reached behind him and grabbed one of my latch-hook kit rugs I’d only half-completed. “What is this?” He turned it around, obviously in an attempt to find up from down.
I choked down a piece of ice that was caught in my throat. “A craft. When my ex and I split up, I needed to keep my hands busy. Somehow, it helped in keeping my mind busy, too. I never finished any of them.” I waited for him to ask me about Marc. The question was going to come up sooner or later. I preferred later.
A wide smile broke. “Is this a unicorn?”
Heat flushed my face in embarrassment. “They only make those in so many designs. So yeah, it’s a unicorn.”
“There’s nothing wrong with unicorns.” Setting it back down behind him, he said, “My sister used to do these. Actually, I think she had a unicorn.”
“Probably the same picture.”
We chatted for a bit about nothing in particular. Family, work, Chicago, just the normal stuff and nothing terribly exciting taken as a whole but still enjoyable, I think, for both of us. Even so, I couldn’t completely relax around him. Probably, it didn’t mean anything. Because we were still in the getting-to-know-each-other stage, I wrote it off to that.
After a while, I summoned up the nerve to ask the one question that had been on my mind. “How old are you?”
He laughed. I squirmed. “I wondered when you’d get around to asking.”
“Are you going to tell me or are you going to make me guess?” I knew it shouldn’t matter, and I already knew he was younger than me, I just wanted to know how much younger. What if I was way off base and he was barely over eighteen? I squirmed again.
“Guessing sounds like a good idea to me. How old do you think I am?”
“You’re in your twenties, I think.”
“Twenty-what?”
I went low, figuring it would be easier to go up than down. On me, that is. “Twenty-two?”
“Not quite that young. Guess again.”
“Twenty-five?”
“Close. Twenty-seven. See, not as young as you thought.”
Still. Kevin was eight years younger than me. Did I like that idea or not? I couldn’t decide. While it was cool he was interested in me, eight years is a lot. It made me a little uncomfortable. “Kevin, do you know how old I am?” In case he thought somehow that I was his age, I needed to make sure.
“I do. You filled out your birth date with your paperwork at Steel Bodies.”
“So you don’t think I’m too old for you?” I hated asking that question, and honestly, felt really stupid the second it left my mouth. But I really wanted to know.
“Age isn’t so much a physical thing as a mental thing. Or maybe even a spiritual thing. Actual years mean nothing. It’s the experience we generate from life that ages us. I’ve met people younger than me in years that were far older than me in spirit. And vice versa, too.”
The Zen teacher was back, but he hadn’t actually answered my question. I tried again. “I can buy in to that. At least to a certain extent, but do you think I am too old for you, regardless of how you judge age?”
His chocolate eyes melted, and his face softened. “I think we’re the perfect age for each other. I’m completely interested in you, and I hope you feel the same about me.”
Warmth tickled my cheeks. “I’m interested, but—”
“No buts, Elizabeth, interested is all I need to hear.” He stood, pulled me to my feet, and wrapped his arms around me. “Let’s dance,” he said.
“Dance? There’s no music.”
“But there is. Close your eyes. You’ll hear it.”
I stepped into his embrace and closed my eyes. My head resting against his hard chest, his arms tight around me, our bodies moving together to silent music, all combined to start a gentle warmth in my belly.
“Can you hear it?” Kevin whispered, his breath hot against my ear.
“Weirdly enough, yes, I can.”
And so we danced. I’m not sure for how long, but long enough for the warmth to climb from my belly into my limbs. Slowly, it traveled through my body, until every inch of my skin blushed from it. I didn’t have to look at a mirror to know I was pink all over.
I didn’t care.
Kevin’s lips began at my ear. One small kiss, and then another. My eyes remained shut. His hands moved down my back until they squeezed my bottom, pushing me closer.
Oh, he was hard. No doubt about that. His teeth bit at my earlobe and then my jawline until his mouth met mine. I dragged my fingers through his hair and opened my mouth to his.
Warmth gave way to heat, and I lost myself in it, in his touch. We stopped dancing and sort of toppled backward to the couch, Kevin on top, his weight comfortable and hard all at once. I wrapped my legs around his hips and arched my back, so the pressure of his hardness was right there, right where I wanted it.
My mind quit functioning. All thought processes completely shut down. I opened my senses and let myself feel, taste, and listen to everything happening.
Kevin stroked his fingers along the edge of my jaw. “I want—”
The ringing of the phone interrupted his statement, which was really a pity. I’d have loved for him to finish his sentence. He lifted his gaze to mine, filled with questions and heat. I was tempted to let the phone ring, let it go to voicemail; after all, what could be important enough to step away from this? I needed to feel desirable. I needed to feel wanted. And right now, I did.
But by the third ring, the daze began to clear, and I wasn’t as comfortable. I wasn’t totally sure why I was doing what I apparently had been about to do. Happy for the reprieve, I scooted out from beneath him. “I should get that. Sorry.”
“No problem.” He rolled off me into a stand. I leapt up and ran to the kitchen and grabbed the phone off the wall. I kept meaning to buy a cordless, but always seemed to forget.
“Hello,” I said, not looking at Kevin, who had trailed after me into the kitchen.
“Elizabeth? Have you talked to your grandmother today?” It was my mother, and she sounded upset. Great.
“Today? No. Why?”
“No one seems to know where she is. She didn’t answer earlier so I sent your father over, but she’s not there.”
My first instinct was worry, but then I thought of Vinny. “I bet she’s with Vinny. Do you have his number?”
“No. Do you?”
“Nope. When did you talk to her last?”
“Last night. She usually tells me if she’s not going to be home when I call. I’m really worried. What do you think we should do?”
My mother was asking me for advice. That worried me almost more than my missing Grandma Verda. “Check in with Alice and the boys. Maybe they’ve heard something.”
“I already did. No one has talked to her today at all.”
“Whose day was it?”
“Mine, but she hasn’t been home.”
I glanced at the clock. Concern skittered over me, but I set it aside. “It’s only eight, Mom. She maybe went to the movies or to Bingo or something. I’m sure she’s fine. Give her
another hour and try her again.”
“That’s what your dad said. Maybe I’m worried about nothing, but she’s not herself lately.”
“Mom, really, listen to Dad. If she’s not home in a couple of hours, let me know.”
“I will, but what can you do?”
“Remember Nate? You met him at Alice’s. He lives next door. I can ask him what we should do if she’s not home by then.” It was the only thing I could think of. But honestly, Grandma Verda had a more active social life than I did—at least normally—so most likely, she was out having fun. I tried to hold on to that, but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t worried at all.
“Thank you, sweetie. I’ll call you either way and let you know.”
After I hung up, I turned to Kevin. “I’m sorry about that. My mother is upset because her mother isn’t at home, safely tucked in for the night. It has to be strange to suddenly feel like the parent to your parent.”
He smiled and pulled me to him. “It’s not a problem. You’re here. I’m here. Where did we leave off?”
Before I could say a word, my phone trilled again. Startled, I grabbed it, thinking it was probably my mother again.
“Are you busy?”
“Um. Kind of. What’s up, Jon?”
“Just wanted to talk, but if you’re busy, you can call me back. Or I can call you back later. What ever you want.”
“Is there a problem?”
Silence, which meant there was, but Jon wouldn’t say so— not if he knew I was busy.
“Just call me back when you can.”
The telltale beep of another call buzzed through. “Hey, Jon, I have another call coming in. I’ll get back to you soon. I promise.”
Clicking over, I swung an apologetic smile to Kevin. I noticed he was backing up toward the living room. Poor guy.
“Hello?”
“Troy was here again, Liz.” My sister’s panicked voice came over the line.
“Again? What did he want?”
“I don’t know. I pretended I wasn’t home, so he ended up leaving.”
This bothered me. A lot. “The check was good, right?”
“Yeah, the money is in my account, all is squared up now. At least financially. But I didn’t want to answer because he was so weird when he was here last time. All that mumbo jumbo stuff about witches and spells.”
“It’s good you didn’t answer the door. Did you see him through the peephole?”
“Yeah. How else would I have known it was him?”
“Did he look sick? He was sick before; that’s why he thought there was a spell.”
“I don’t know. He looked angry. So I sort of just backed up and went into the bedroom and watched the parking lot until I saw him leave.”
“You did great, Alice. Exactly what I would have done.” Heaven help me if the spell hadn’t ended with the payback of the money. How would I convince him it wasn’t on purpose? Even more worrisome, how would I take it off? “Do me a favor, though. If he comes back, call me. I’ll take care of it.”
“Really? It’s not your battle, sis.”
“Let me handle it, Alice. I’m not emotionally involved with him like you are.”
“Only if you’re sure.”
Grandma Verda popped into my thoughts. “Hey, Alice, have you seen Grandma today?”
“Not you, too. Mom already asked me that. I haven’t. Is she really missing?”
“I don’t know. Probably not, but I figured I’d ask since we were on the phone.” Hanging up once again, I said to Kevin, “I’m sorry, but my family is all nutso tonight.”
He smiled a wholly relaxed smile at me. “It’s cool.” He stepped toward me and—you got it—the phone rang. Again.
“Shit,” I muttered. I grabbed the receiver. “Yes?”
“What’s wrong? You sound ticked.”
“Oh. Hi, Maddie. Not angry, just one of those nights.”
“You think you could come up here for a few minutes? I want to show you the dress I bought.”
“Um, actually, I’m waiting for both my sister and my mom to call me back.”
“I’ll just come down. See you in a few.”
“Maddie? Wait.” All I heard was the dial tone. It looked like I’d have the chance to think about what had almost happened with Kevin. Maybe good. Maybe bad. Sometimes, it was nice to just roll with it.
“Kevin, I have bad news. My friend Maddie is coming over. Right now. She hung up before I could answer.”
A loud rap on the door announced her presence. Man, she’s fast. “That would be her,” I chuckled.
Kevin smiled and squeezed my hand. “Things come up. I should get going, anyhow. I have an early morning at the gym tomorrow.”
Personally? I kind of felt pummeled by all the information that had been dumped on my head in less than ten minutes. I didn’t know if I should be disappointed or relieved. Happy or sad.
Sighing, I let Kevin out and Maddie in.
Chapter Thirteen
For the first time since hearing about Grandma Verda being missing, my skin itched with anxiety. My mother called again to inform me Grandma still wasn’t home and no one had heard from her. It seemed somewhat silly to notify the police when we didn’t really know what was going on, but something proactive needed to be done.
Which is how I ended up knocking on Nate’s door at a little after eleven. I was uncomfortable at the possibility of waking him up. Hell, I was uncomfortable simply talking to him at that point. But for my Grandma, I’d get over my nerves.I only hoped Nate was actually home. A cop’s hours were not exactly of the nine to five variety, as I already knew too well. When the door whipped open, I was partially relieved and partially frozen in my tracks.
Sleepy green eyes and a pillow-creased cheek told me I had, indeed, awakened him. “Is something wrong?” he asked, voice scratchy. It was yet another indicator of my intrusion.
“I don’t know. Maybe. Honestly, I’m not sure what you can do, but thought maybe you’d at least be able to tell me what I should do.” I heard myself ramble on and immediately snapped my jaw shut.
“Come in,” he said, grabbing my wrist and gently tugging me inside. “Tell me what the problem is.” He closed the door behind us, and I leaned against it for support.
“My grandmother is missing. Or maybe not. I guess we don’t really know, not for sure. But she’s not home, and my mother is upset. Anyway, we don’t know if we should file a report or what.”
“Verda?”
“Yeah. I thought maybe asking you would be a good idea because you said you knew her and, well, also because we didn’t know what the normal protocol would be.”
Nate ran his hand over his face. “Give me a second here.” He disappeared into the kitchen and returned with a glass of juice an instant later. He gulped a swallow. “How long has she been missing?”
I realized, suddenly, he was wearing boxers and a tank. Strong legs, muscular legs, but I couldn’t focus on them at the moment. Even though I would have liked to. “Not sure. None of the family has seen or talked to her since last night.”
“Did your mom check with area hospitals?”
“Oh, God. I don’t think so. Should we?”
“If for no other reason than to rule it out, sure.” He set the juice on the table and murmured, mostly to himself, “I wonder if she called 911.”
My brain clicked in. “That’s how you know her! You’ve responded to those calls before, haven’t you?”
“Yeah, but she didn’t want me to say anything. Your grandmother is one feisty lady, so she probably doesn’t want to be seen as vulnerable. Especially by her family.”
Wow. He got her. That was cool. “You know her pretty well already.” I laughed, trying to hide the fear that was beginning to grow. “Wait a minute. Are you one of the cops who brought her beer and Cheetos?”
He choked on his juice, wiped his mouth, and said, “What are you talking about?”
“My grandmother. She said the cops bring her beer
and Cheetos after she calls 911.”
“Are you serious?”
I nodded.
“Trust me, no police officer brought your grandmother beer. She’s just messing with you. Let me put some clothes on and we’ll go back to your place. That way, you can call your mom and we can start checking the hospitals.” For a brief moment, uncertainty passed over his face. “That is, if you want me to come with you.”
“Yes. I do. Thank you for offering.”
A few minutes later, we were standing in my kitchen instead of his.
“Do you want to call your mom before we start checking the hospitals?” Nate asked.
“No. She’ll get more upset if we put that thought in her head. Let’s start with the major ones, and if Grandma Verda isn’t at any of them, I’ll call my mother then.”
“Sounds good. Where’s your phone book?”
“In the closet.” I started to walk out of the kitchen, but he stopped me.
“I’ll get it. Why don’t you make some tea or something? To calm your nerves.”
I nodded. When he left the room, I turned the water on and grabbed a mug out of the cupboard. I was about to fill it when I realized a little plastic cup I’d left in the sink was now sitting in the garbage disposal. Probably, the force of the running water had pushed it down.
“Did you say the coat closet?” Nate called from the other room.
“No. In the hallway,” I replied. I turned the faucet off and plunged my hand into the half-filled sink. The damn cup had blocked the drain. I pried at the plastic edges with my fingers, trying to force it loose. It didn’t budge. Maybe if I stuck my fist in it, I could pull it out?
It was worth a shot. I shoved my hand into the cup and gave it a good yank.
And then I realized how stupid an idea it actually was. Now my hand was wedged tight in the cup, which had pushed down even farther into the disposal. I pulled back as hard as I could, and the thing still didn’t move. Crap. Now what? I stood still for a second, trying to decide the best action to take. I needed to figure this out.
Preferably before Nate returned.
I wanted him to see me as sexy, and trust me, there was absolutely nothing sexy about a woman stuck to her sink. With my other hand, I opened the silverware drawer and retrieved a butter knife. I slid it in between the cup and drain, hoping to pry it up some. This position? Awkward as hell. Ambidextrous I was not, so maneuvering the knife with my left hand was agonizingly difficult.
A Taste of Magic Page 18
