by Celia Crown
His growl stops her, she cocks her head at him.
“Don’t say that.” he takes her wrist and tugs gently for her to step on the barstool footrest and climb into his lap.
“I want you, and I’m carnivorous. Your comparison is invalid.”
She giggles at his serious expression; he’s protective to the point of having negativity on herself isn’t allowed.
“Okay,” Mavis agrees.
His arm circles around her waist, pinning her to his lap as she talks with her fingers toying with his free hand. A strange fascination ignites in her as she entwines their fingers together; his hand is callous and rough with red knuckles from a fight that he told her about.
Vlad had defended himself from a broken beer bottle.
There’s no more blood on the cuts that are littered across his palm, so she breathes a little easier. It’s one of the many reasons why she didn’t go into a field that requires daily blood scenes.
Blood makes her queasy, that’s why she fainted upon first meeting him. Also, his face was too pretty that it stole her breath away and oxygen didn’t make it to her brain fast enough.
“Jenny and I were about to leave when we came across Senator Patman.” Mavis continues, leaning into his warmth.
He’s a furnace; the coldness in the bar doesn’t bother him as much as it did to her.
“Patman is a really prominent figure in politics. He’s got a reputation that makes people respect him. Sometimes, he is controversial, and people think he’s both democratic and republican. Depending on what the topic is, he often has a side.”
His chin drops on her head and the tough material of his pants scrapes her thighs.
“He has the American Dream. White picket fence, two children and a wife, and cars. He’s your typical old white man when you think of politicians.”
Mavis chuckles, his fingers coiling down at hers.
“So, imagine our surprise when the respectable and orderly senator drunk at the fundraiser.”
Vlad quips in, “Isn’t that normal?”
“Reporters are always trying to get the next scoop, so no one gets drunk outside of their home. No one can photograph him in anything less than pristine, I’m convinced he’s not human.”
He gives her a forehead kiss, lips lingering there as she sighs into his embrace.
“Enlighten me.”
Mavis recalls, “We just happened to see him. He wasn’t doing anything inconspicuous, just being intoxicated and opening his mouth freakishly wide. His jaw to lip ratio makes it physically impossible to open so wide that it’s a black hole.”
His chest rumbles in amusement, clearly entertained by her unfortunate encounter.
“Not funny!” she pouts, glaring at him like a hissing kitten. “I was honestly scared.”
A light apology and a quick smooch on her lips make her forgive his teasing dark eyes.
“It can’t be that bad.” Vlad reasons with her, “You’re exaggerating.”
“I’m going to take you with me for the next fundraiser and you’ll see how petrifying it is.”
Mavis doesn’t notice how she inadvertently told him where she wants him in her life, but he notices and tightens his arm around her.
“That man has no sense of personal space when he’s drunk.”
A shudder wrecks her small body, she taps his bruised knuckle with her fingers.
“Did he hurt you?” Vlad’s concern makes her look up at him with a warm smile.
“No.” Mavis shakes her head, black hair tumbling down her shoulders. “As long as you avoid Patman when he’s inebriated, it’s okay.”
She pales, fingers locking in stiffness.
“What’s not okay is that he was serenading a vase of flowers.”
Vlad pauses, “What.”
“They—” she swallows, “They wilted.”
He lets out a heartfelt laugh that jolts her body. Deep and shiver-inducing laughter, she found another fascination with him.
“Would he remember seeing us?” she whines, slapping his naked chest in reprimand.
“I’ve never been drunk before so I don’t know how much people remember the next day! Jenny doesn’t need his funds, but it’s still money!”
His breath fans over her head, his shoulders shaking with her buried in his chest.
“He might remember,” he teases and is rewarded with horror etching on her pretty face.
She wails.
Chapter Eleven
Mavis
She didn’t finish all her food, but Vlad made sure she had that glass of water in her tummy.
She’s proud of herself for eating more than her usual portion, she hates wasting food, but her stomach would have exploded if he didn’t take the rest of untouched waffles.
Mavis was going to leave the dishes in the sink, but mom didn’t raise a slob. She insisted that she’d clean since he cooked for her, he indulged her with a kiss on her temple.
Sharing responsibilities, she had said.
He’s outside shoveling the mountain of fresh snow while she finishes the dishes.
The kitchen is nothing too fancy; standard equipment and adequate spacing without forcing a sense of professionalism in a bar setting.
She dries the plates and utensils with a towel before putting them back into their space, which she had to open several drawers and cabinets to find the right places.
When he went back up in the bedroom, he retrieved her shoes and her coat. He knows she wants to help with shoveling as it looks tiring from the way he bends to his waist to pick up the pile of snow.
Spreading the wet towel on the counter next to the sink for it to dry, she washes her hands because she may not have any discomfort when touching Vlad but touching everything else brings back unease of dirtiness in her hands.
She moves out the kitchen and locks eyes with the obnoxiously red coat laying on the barstool. The coat is a gift from her boss, it’s from expensive materials and made by the hands of a famous coat-maker.
Mavis didn’t think the title exists, but it does.
Tugging the coat on, she digs into her pockets for the pair of gloves that’s been a hermit the day she got them. With her gloved hands opening the door, iciness stings on her thighs and she mentally groans.
She’s not wearing pants again.
Vlad turns around with the shovel stabbing into the ground. He voices her thoughts as his dark eyes take in her underdressed appearance.
“Why do you assume I never wear pants?”
He said plainly, “Because you don’t.”
She pouts at him, stepping further into the snow. A quiver tumbles down her shaking body, her body is not used to Nevada temperature when Miami is dryness and burning heat every day.
The snowstorm stopped sometimes during their three-hour breakfast; they talked and talked, she thinks because he’s Vlad, she believes that she’s not the socially awkward scientist everyone paints her as.
With a clean slate of snow around them, she breathes in the cleanliness lingering in the air as sunlight reflects on the tiny flakes, creating a natural glow around them.
It’s a change of scenery she likes, her heart thumps steadily when Vlad cocks his head in silent inquiry. His wide shoulders fill in the sleek leather jacket with his black boots contrasting the ivory snow. Gentle breeze sweeps pass his hair as they sway with the rhythm, he stabs the shovel into a pile of dense snow to make it support itself.
His steps are confident and purposeful when he saunters up to her, long fingers curling around her cheeks with soft caresses to her pink skin.
Inching closer, Mavis clasps her hands over his with his dark eyes bewitching her forward to him. He looks at her in a way that no one does, and she relishes on his attention as she tips her head back.
“Please kiss me.”
And he does.
Slow and gentle, he only touches her lips. Mavis stands on her toes, slanting her lips over his firmly, a burst of boldness sparks a fire in her that the cold
ness on her fingertips dims like the surrounding whiteness.
One of his hands tugs her closer to him, his sturdy arms surrounding her like a protective layer of scorching adoration.
In need of air, she pulls back and licks her reddened lips. The taste of remnant sweetness lingering at the tip of her tongue as she finds her balance on the ground again.
“Go back inside.” Vlad rubs her ass; a warming gesture of innocence and a touch of naughtiness.
A tremor passes through her body, either from his dark gaze of possible dirty things she wants him to do to her or the dropping temperature.
She shakes her head, a smile playing on her pink lips. “I can help.”
“Not a chance,” his lips peppering her cold cheek with ticklish caresses, she giggles softly.
“I don’t want your hands to hurt.” he drops a kiss on her lips and turns her around with his hands on her shoulders.
She tilts her head back and glances up at him, “I really can help though.”
He gives a nudge for her feet to pick up their pace, “I know. Now, go back inside and get warm.”
“I don’t want to.” she digs her heels into the ground.
The thought of not being able to see him rests a feeling of unease in her gut, she doesn’t understand what the abundant fairy tale emotions in her body are, but she knows she doesn’t want to let him go.
If she can’t shovel with him, the least she can do is silently cheer him on the progress of opening up a walkway.
“Can I watch?”
He stops his nudging and she turns around quickly, latching herself on him.
Her spirit animal is a koala, she’s convinced. And he’s the tree she’d like the climb and hug.
“Mavis?”
Her name didn’t come from Vlad’s deep and baritone voice, it’s much softer and feminine. She unlatches her arms around him and tilts the top half of her body to see around him.
Her sister—blonde-hair and same blue eyes—has a face of bewilderment as if she’s hallucinating.
The man standing next to her is imposing and utterly good-looking in a way that’s surreal. He could be a model for those monthly calendars that always have shirtless men posing because Mr. December totally fits his image.
Cold and impassive.
He must be Kane.
He has an air of intimidation and strength like Vlad, and he looks unimpressed with Mavis’ nervous demeanor.
She can’t help it, he’s threateningly unapproachable.
“Honey,” Mavis pips, a blooming affection makes her heart quiver.
She feels like she hasn’t seen her beautiful sister in years. Their joined hands catch her attention, the man’s hand swallows Honey’s as the blonde-haired woman pulls him to Mavis.
Kane holds on tight, as if he’s not sure what the situation is. He’s right because Mavis doesn’t know what action this situation needs as Honey drags the stoic man to them.
Vlad holds her close to him.
Mavis thinks the man holding onto Honey is not someone she wants to get on the bad side of. Honey stands in front of her with a goofy smile which the man doesn’t reciprocate.
Mavis, like the dumbass she is, opens her mouth.
“Blink if you’re being held hostage.”
The blonde-haired woman blinks extra hard.
Kane’s eyebrows furrow with hazel eyes looking into her soul. He scares her; his face is passive without any care as to how uncomfortable he’s making her and his eyes switches to a fierce glare that has her jumping behind Vlad.
“Why do you have to pick the scariest man!”
Honey counters back, “Go big or go home!”
“Then go home!”
The hand on her shoulder squeeze, bringing her attention back to Vlad as he peers down at her with a disapproving look. Her heart skips a beat and shrinks into his chest.
“I think a better question is, are you being held hostage?” Honey’s eyes darts from her face to the big hand keeping her stationed next to him.
Mavis’ brain doesn’t formulate any coherent thoughts as she raises an eyebrow, she purses her lips in confusion as Honey lifts a finger to point at the hand on her shoulder.
“He’s touching you.”
She tilts her head, brain reeling in information as she stands there with a wash of confusion turning into acceptance.
“You hate being touched.” Honey reminds with a sly smile on her face, “Is there something you want to tell me?”
“I’m immune to him.” Mavis folds her arm around his waist as proof.
Honey’s eyes light up with the clearest ocean blue, a captivating grin spreading across her rosy lips. A laugh bubbling out of her voice as she yanks her hand out of Kane’s grasp and launches herself at the black-haired girl.
Mavis chirps in shock, catching her sister while tumbling back into Vlad’s chest.
Her voice whispers too softly for anyone other than Mavis to hear as she laughs.
“Love makes miracles happen.”
Mavis whispers back, hesitation lacing in her tone. “I’m not sure if this is love.”
“It is, I can tell.” Honey breathes back, placing a chaste kiss on her temple.
She pulls back, intertwining their fingers together and guides Mavis to the bar entrance. Honey looks back to Kane and shoots a secretive smile to him.
“We’re having a sisterly talk. No men.” she wags her fingers at them and tugs Mavis to jog with her.
Honey adds quickly, “No eavesdropping!”
They stumble into the bar, closing the door for privacy as the two men are left with a pile of snow and a shovel.
Honey breathes in the smell of brief hints of smoke and lingering beer. Mavis studies her, somewhat torn between being disgusted and defeated because her sister is an eccentric girl.
“Sit, sit.” Honey pushes her down on the first chair they come across, and it’s also the closest to the entrance.
Mavis watches her sister take the seat in front of her and grins with fingers lacing under her chin. A poor imitation of creating tension for their serious talk that no doubt Honey will initiate.
“I’ve been in your shoes.” Honey begins, her feet swinging under the chair.
Mavis laughs awkwardly, “This can’t be good.”
“Oh, it’s good.” the blonde-haired woman tucks her hands over each other on the table.
“Speaking from experience, I think you’re falling in love with Vlad.”
Mavis immediately puts a halt in Honey’s speech, “All your experiences are very sketchy. Especially your bucket list.”
“Excuse me,” Honey gasps, hand hitting her heart with eyes of disbelief, “My bucket list experiences are all successful.”
“Is falling in love in there too?” Mavis rolls her eyes, a fond smile coming on her lips.
Honey returns the smile, “It’s always on there. It’s just never been fulfilled until I met Kane.”
Mavis knows that Honey is the best thing that happened to her and she knows that Honey can take care of herself. Her sister may be spontaneous, but she’s also brilliant. Hearing her talk about Kane constantly makes Mavis feel warm and happy that Honey has found someone for herself.
“Okay,” Mavis sighs, face void of any disgruntle feelings as she is truly curious.
“Tell me about your conclusion of why I’m falling in love when you just saw Vlad and me together.”
Honey snaps her fingers at her, “One, you just said together.”
“Invalid point,” Mavis scoffs.
“Point two, you let him touch you. Better yet, you voluntarily touch him.”
Mavis moves her eyes up to the wall behind Honey and thinks for a bit before nodding, “Fair.”
“Three, you look at him like Laura looks at a law textbook. Devoted and accepting.” Honey traces the table with her fingertip, legs crossing at the ankles.
Mavis’ mind shutters for a moment and her eyes bulge in astonishment, “Only Laura can read the sa
me chapter for five hours straight. That’s devotion.”
Honey waves her hand, moving on to make her argument firmer and believable. “Point four, and the most important. Your heart trusts him.”
Her heart races instantly, unable to stop the drumming beats from causing a hot blush flushing her cheeks. Honey’s smile gets wider as she squeals and congratulates herself for conveying her points across perfectly.
“I feel something, but that’s it.” Mavis weakly refutes.
“It’s a start,” Honey reaches across the table, clasping her cold hands to her equally chilled skin.
“One day, my dear emotionally stunted sister, you’ll know I’m right.”
Mavis laughs, “I believe you, my dear fire hazard sister.”
Silence follows and Honey glares playfully.
“We don’t talk about that.”
Chapter Twelve
Mavis
The four of them ended up staying at the bar with another snowstorm hitting Nevada. The freshly shoveled sidewalk is being coated in a fresh pile of snow that has Honey running outside with a childish grin.
Mavis being the more introverted one wants to stay warm because who in the right mind wants to be wet and uncomfortably cold.
What Honey wants, Honey gets, and she wants to play in the snow.
Now, Mavis is tumbling around the snow with Honey chasing her like a pair of children. She’s more of a chicken being chased by a human, but she does manage to get caught because within the next minute, she’s face down on the cold snow.
They lay in the snow, letting the wetness soak their clothes with their head getting external brain freeze.
Mavis sighs, she feels like a child again. Free of responsibilities and judgments as she plays around in the snow; building crooked snowmen and trying to make animal footprints.
Vlad and Kane watch them from the doorway of the bar, partially giving up on telling them that it’s a horrible idea, but mostly loving the uninhibited smiles on their faces.
It’s a remarkable sight.
Snow falling around them, creating an enthralling halo around them like angels. Their laughs are contagious as one stops while the other girl triggers another fit of giggling, it’s a never-ending circle that keeps their tummy aching. Gorgeous blue eyes brimming with tears clinging to their lashes, they can feel their burning sore cheeks.
