A Touch of Fae (8 page)

Violet thought wonderful was a stretch. They were probably used to Columbian select something-or-other. Certainly not plain old Maxwell House. But she nodded to him anyway. “No problem.”

Rory watched her carefully. She had bumped her hand reaching for the plates and he had seen her wince. “Are you okay?” he asked. “How many stitches did you get in your hand?”

“I’m fine.” She waved his concern away with her bad hand, even though it hurt like a son-of-a-bitch. “Just ten.”

Rory’s mouth gaped open in surprise. “Ten?” he repeated. Within moments he was off the stool and tugging on her elbow. Violet allowed herself to be guided to the stool he had just vacated. “You have no business cooking for us if you just got that many stitches in your hand. We’ll take care of this.”

There actually wasn’t much left to do. He swapped plates with her and poured her a cup of coffee. Snatching a paper towel off the roll, he stepped beside her and laid it on her lap. Violet thought it was pretty funny but allowed him to do it. When he picked up the fork to feed her a bite of eggs, Violet stopped him with a dirty look. “I’m good. Thanks.”

Rory actually looked a little hurt that she didn’t allow him to feed her, but he quickly turned back to his own breakfast. Glancing at Sandro, she saw he was watching the interplay between them. His expression was unguarded as he looked at Rory and the love was there for anybody to see.

“How long have you guys been together?” she asked.

The men’s gazes connected and Violet could have sworn she felt the heat in her own bones. Wow! There was some serious chemistry floating between these two. She was not surprised when Sandro answered.

“I used to drive cars in Italy. Racecars. Rory came over on business and was at one of my races. After the race, we clicked. I thought he looked…tasty. And he was.”

Incredibly, Rory flushed with color and Violet had to laugh. The muscle-bound man blushed like a young man. His fair skin colored even more furiously when she laughed and he turned away to eat his food at the opposite counter. Violet felt almost privileged that they let her into their teasing. It was obvious from Rory’s reaction that Sandro had said this to him before. The fact that it was said to a third party was what was causing the embarrassment.

“We have been together thirteen years now.”

Violet’s brows raised in surprise. It was obvious they had been a couple for a while, but she hadn’t realized how long. Thirteen years was a long time.

The little grandfather clock in the living room chimed seven o’clock. Sandro scooped up the last bite of eggs before pushing his plate away. He cupped the mug in his hands and Violet could tell he was savoring the aroma of the coffee. Rory reached a long arm out, grabbed the carafe and held it out to Sandro for a refill. The Italian took it gratefully.

Violet was impressed once again by Rory’s solicitude to his lover. It was cute. And heart-warming. And made her a little bit envious. It was obvious that these two loved each other very much.

Rory turned back around. Violet was not surprised to see that his plate was empty and several of the toasts were gone as well. It probably took a small army to keep this one man fed.

“Are you open on Sundays?” he asked.

Violet shook her head in the negative. They were packed every other day, but Sunday was off limits. Grandad had never worked Sundays and he urged her to keep the day off as well.

“So, do you have anything planned for today?”

Violet narrowed her eyes, wondering where he was going with this. “No.”

“Good. Would you consider going for a drive?”

Violet looked down at her plate without saying anything. Her mouth was positively watering. She had never driven a Ferrari more than about fifty feet. From the lot to the garage bay.

“Can I drive?” she found herself asking.

Rory narrowed his own green eyes and pursed his lips. Violet quirked an eyebrow, daring him.

“Yes, on one condition.”

Violet didn’t know if she wanted to hear what the condition was. Maybe he didn’t want her to protest when it came to sex later in the day. Although it probably wouldn’t be an issue later if he let her drive the Ferrari. She would have to make sure not to soak the seat.

“What is it?” she asked warily.

“I want you to stay open-minded when we talk later.”

Frowning, she thought it over. It seemed pretty straightforward. And she prided herself on being open to new things anyway. She’d had to be with her granddad. “Ok, I will,” she promised.

‡

T
he car was
everything she expected it to be. The buttery soft leather seats cushioned them as Violet’s foot pressed down on the accelerator on a straight stretch outside of town. Nimble and eager, the car responded to every slight cue from her fingers and feet. Violet was impressed. The California had 483 horsepower, or thereabouts, and would get up to 193 miles per hour in seconds. She didn’t dare go that fast though. Alessandro was crammed into the small back seat area, knees under his chin. He said he was comfortable but Violet could tell he wasn’t.

Ten miles outside of town the guilt got to her. And the pain in her hand. Alessandro was constantly shifting, trying to stretch out. Pulling over to a roadside park, she turned to Rory with a broad smile.

“Thank you. That was wonderful. It was just as good as I thought it would be, only better.”

Rory smiled at her then turned to look out the window. They had pulled over at a park Violet came to often. It was several acres square and wild with natural growth. There was a small, cultivated area near the parking area, but Violet found herself always drawn to the back corner, where a rock-bottom stream meandered along one edge of the property. It was usually almost dry in the summertime, but right now it was more than likely full of rain run-off, the water flowing freely.

Stepping out of the car, Rory slid the passenger seat forward to let Sandro out. The Italian groaned as he stretched the kinks out of his long frame. Violet could not help but admire the line of his back and his flexibility as he leaned forward and swayed from side to side, limbering his muscles.

Violet was surprised to see that Rory was halfway across the park now, striding purposefully toward the corner where she liked to go. Maybe he had been here before.

Retrieving the keys, she activated the car alarm before following along behind. A box turtle was hidden in tall grass at the edge of the parking lot and Violet took a moment to walk him across the road and into the shrubbery. If he had tried to cross the busy country road himself he would have been flattened. Harold thought she was nuts because she would stop pretty much anywhere to rescue an endangered turtle. Violet didn’t care though. It was one more beautiful little being staying on the earth for a while longer.

A forest of ancient oak trees lined the back section of the park and as Violet stepped through the tree line a shiver slipped over her body, making her pause and close her eyes. It always affected her this way. It had for years. Ever since her grandfather had brought her here years ago as a child. Grandad had explained to her that sometimes when one was in the presence of beings as old as these old oaks, it reminded a person how very insignificant they were in the world.

So Violet made sure to always keep her footprint small as she walked in the world, so to speak.

Stepping over a tree branch, she looked up to find Rory staring at her hard. The wraparound shades were back, but the weight of his gaze on her was palpable. Against her will Violet felt her nipples come to attention and she cursed. Her boobs always gave her away. Today she was wearing regular clothes too, so no uniforms to hide in. Hunching her shoulders, she continued walking.

Alessandro tromped through the brush, mumbling to himself about snakes and spiders.

“
Bella
,” he asked, out of breath. “You have poisonous snakes here in Kentucky, no?”

Violet smiled at his expression. “Oh yes, Alessandro. Great big ones. They really like leather shoes, too.”

Sandro stopped in his tracks, looking down at his expensive leather loafers. He raised a hand as if to call Rory, then thought better of it. Turning to her, he held out his hand for the car key. “This is a trip for the two of you. I will wait with the car.”

Rory stopped long enough to see what was going on, and Sandro threw a spate of Italian at him. Violet thought Rory looked surprised for a moment, then he nodded his head almost reluctantly. Sandro turned back to her. Cupping his hands around her cheeks, he whispered, “Enjoy yourself,
bella
. No guilt.”

“Huh?”

But he was gone. Tromping back through the brush a lot more sure-footedly than when he entered. What the heck? Why did she feel like she had been set up?

Looking down the path, Rory had disappeared. She found him in her favorite spot on a rock at the edge of the slow-moving stream. Looking down into the water he stood tall and proud, and more delectable than anybody had a right to be. The filtered light shone off his dark auburn hair and Violet’s fingers began to itch. She knew the texture and the weight of his hair now, but she wanted to feel it again.

Stopping at the edge of the stream, she just watched him. He seemed to be soaking in the sun, relishing the light on the water.

“Do you come here often, Violet?” he asked, voice deep and slow.

Settling cross-legged at the edge of the stream, she plucked a blade of grass, twirling it with her fingers. “I do. I feel connected to my grandad here. He used to bring me when I was a little girl. I come here every few weeks.”

It struck her then that she was feeling the same connection with the men. Both of them, though Rory a bit more. Yeah, she was trying to be a hard-ass. She had been hurt. But underneath it all was a craving for the two men that was fearsome. Even now at eight o’clock in the morning she was ready to drop her jeans to the dirt and ride the big man in front of her hard. Followed up by a Sandro chaser.

Tearing her eyes away from his rugged form, she focused on the grass in front of her. It was soft and lush. Wonderful padding for her behind. Even in the summer when the stream was dry, there was a twelve-foot ring of grass that stayed thick and lush. Grandad used to say it was a ring of magic. After he had died it had been calming to visit here. Often she would just lie in the grass and look up at the sky. More than once through the years she imagined Rory and Alessandro joining her here. She hadn’t known their names; they had just been the two guys that came into the shop sometimes. Imagining them holding her in the ring of grass had given her some of the most earth-shattering orgasms of her life.

Violet felt her body loosening as she thought of lying with them again. Why had they come back? What did they want from her?

Squinting against the sunlight reflecting on the water, she realized Rory was once again staring at her. The glasses were no shield; she could
feel
his eyes on her. It was as if he knew what she was thinking. Her nipples pulsed and her breaths began to quicken.

Shoving it away for a moment, she tried to concentrate on the questions floating through her mind. “Why did you guys come back to the shop?” she asked. “Hell, why did you come to the shop in the first place six weeks ago? Or even years ago?”

Rory frowned and shoved his big hands in his pockets. It didn’t look like he liked the question but she needed to know. Reluctantly it seemed, he stepped off the rock and to her side, lowering himself down beside her. Violet was once again amazed at his size. His thighs bulged as he lowered himself, merely hinting at the power they contained.

“I need to ask you a couple of questions first, if you don’t mind.”

“Okay,” she agreed.

“You say your grandfather brought you here. Did he ever explain to you what this place was?”

Violet squinted until it hurt her bruised eye. “It’s just a park, isn’t it?”

Rory shook his head. “No. It’s more than that. You feel drawn here. You want to stay here. You come when you’re down, right? You feel more relaxed in this spot than just about any place else on earth. Am I correct?”

Violet was a little alarmed. How did he know what she felt here?

“Yes,” she agreed finally.

Rory nodded his head as if he had already known the answer. “And did your grandfather ever tell you about your history? Where you came from?”

Shrugging, she folded her arms underneath her breasts, feeling a little chilled. “A little bit. We’re Irish, many generations ago. A little German.”

Pushing his glasses up on his coppery hair, he rested his elbows on his upraised knees. “Where is your father, Violet? And your mother?”

The bottom fell out of her stomach. The two questions she had no answer for. “I don’t know. I never knew my father. Grandad never met him. My mother ran away with him and got pregnant. Hell, they may still be together. She left me as a baby on my grandfather’s doorstep.”

Rory’s full lips compressed and Violet realized he looked angry.

“What?” she demanded.

Rory sighed, rubbing both hands over his face. “I really wish old Keegan had told you about this.”