Desires of the Dead (6 page)

Chapter 7

By the time Jay finally showed up, Violet couldn’t wait to get out of her house. She was a nervous wreck from waiting around all afternoon, afraid that the FBI was going to call again. And even though she’d silenced her cell phone, there was nothing she could do about her home phone.

It only rang twice, but each time she practically jumped out of her skin, worrying about who might be on the other end.

Fortunately neither was her mysterious FBI caller. Once it was her dad calling to say he’d be home late from work. Typical. And the other was Jay, since he couldn’t reach her on her cell, telling Violet that he’d pick her up at six.

Violet was surprised that they were going out, mostly because she’d assumed they’d be staying in, “doing homework,” among other things. But apparently Jay had other plans.

She was waiting outside when he pulled up.

He hopped out of his car and held open the passenger-side door for her. Violet eyed him suspiciously; he was acting really weird.

“All set?” he asked when he got in again.

“I don’t know,” she answered. “You tell me. Where are we going?”

He grinned, trying to pull off laid-back but a little too anxious to sell it. “It’s a surprise.”

“Really? What is it?” Already she could feel the tension lifting. Jay was a great distraction.

“Do you understand the concept of ‘surprise,’ Violet? Telling you would kind of defeat the purpose.”

“Can I guess?” she asked, suddenly giddy.

Violet hated surprises. Christmases and birthdays had been like torture when she was a little girl. She would drop hint after hint about what she wanted, making long, elaborate lists for her parents, usually in numerical order. And after handing them over, she would resort to pleading, cajoling, and searching for whatever they’d gotten for her. She’d spent hours of her childhood combing through closets and scouring beneath beds in search of their secret hiding places, only to be disappointed that her parents had outsmarted her yet again.

A part of her—albeit a really,
really
small part—had even learned to dread the arrival of the holidays. She was certain it was some sort of sick Pavlovian response to the Christmas season, knowing that she would, once again, be afflicted by her crippling inability to wait patiently, while she counted down the days until the big fat man in the red suit made his annual appearance.

But tonight was different. Tonight she was with Jay, and almost everything, even a surprise, was tolerable when they were together.

He considered her request before answering, and she could tell he was enjoying this. Jay loved this particular weakness of hers. “You can guess, but I’m still not telling.”

“What if I guess right?”

“Then you’d be pretty freakin’ amazing.”

She pretended to be offended. “So, what if I don’t figure it out . . . ?”

His uneven grin made an appearance. “You’re still pretty freakin’ amazing, Violet.” He lifted her hand, pressing it lightly to his lips.

Violet felt herself blushing. She knew how to handle his teasing, but she still hadn’t gotten used to this gentler, sweeter side of him.

“You’re such a girl,” she chided, but somehow the words came out too soft . . . too tender, and ended up sounding like a compliment.

Jay just laughed. “So what does that make you, the guy?” He squeezed her hand even tighter, keeping it buried in his.

“Or some sort of lesbian,” she teased, raising an eyebrow. “Maybe we should try out a little girl-on-girl action.”

“
Nice
, Violet. Do you kiss your mom with that mouth?” His eyes glinted as he watched her.

She leaned closer to him in the darkness of the car’s interior. “No, but I’ll kiss you with it.”

He set her hand back in her lap. “Watch it, Vi, or I might pull over right now and we’ll never make it there.”

She raised her eyebrows. “Make it where?”

“Nice try, but you can’t distract me that easily. . . . It’s still a surprise.”

He drove the rest of the way in silence, pretending to ignore her, even though she knew she’d gotten to him. And then he flipped on his blinker and turned again, coming to a stop in the deserted parking lot of a lakefront park. It was an odd location for this time of year, made stranger by the darkness that was shrouding the crisp night.

Violet looked at him curiously. “What are we doing
here
?”

“This is your surprise.” He pulled a thick winter coat out from the backseat. “You might want to put this on,” he recommended as he jumped out and popped the trunk.

Violet got up, shrugging into the warm, down-filled jacket. The sleeves hung well past her hands, hiding her fingers inside the soft, pillowy fabric. She felt like a little girl playing dress-up in her dad’s clothes. But she was glad to have it when Jay met her on the passenger side, carrying a small cooler in one hand, a fleece blanket tucked beneath his arm. He was grinning mischievously.

“A picnic?” Violet asked, looking at him like he’d lost his mind. “Isn’t it a little cold? And dark?”

She took the blanket and he slid his arm around her shoulders, pulling her against him. “I promise I’ll keep you warm. And well-lit.”

He led her toward the park, and when she stole a look across the grass, in the direction of the lake, she froze in her tracks, unable to move.

Her heart stopped, and she reached for his coat, drawing him back. “Jay . . .” she whispered. She was sure she was witnessing an echo—a strangely beautiful echo.

“It’s okay, Vi.” He leaned down, his nose tickling her ear. “I see it too. I did this. It’s for you.”

She relaxed her grip, finding her breath again.

Jay pulled her forward and, as he did, she was able to see the splendor of what he’d done. Just for her.

This time, when her breath caught in her throat, it was for an entirely different reason.

At her feet, a luminous path lit the way through the grassy field. It was made entirely from glow sticks; each of the radiant lights had been painstakingly set into the ground at perfect intervals, tracing a curved trail that shone through the darkness.

Apparently, Jay had been busy.

Near the water’s edge, at the end of the iridescent pathway and beneath a stand of trees, Jay had set up more than just a picnic. He had created a retreat, an oasis for the two of them.

Violet shook her head, unable to find the words to speak.

He led her closer, and Violet followed, amazed.

Jay had hung more of the luminescent glow sticks from the low-hanging branches, so they dangled overhead. They drifted and swayed in the breeze that blew up from the lake.

Beneath the natural canopy of limbs, he had set up two folding lounge chairs and covered them with pillows and blankets.

“I’d planned to use candles, but the wind would’ve blown ’em out, so I had to improvise.”

“Seriously, Jay? This is amazing.” Violet felt awed. She couldn’t imagine how long it must have taken him.

“I’m glad you like it.”

He led her to one of the chairs and drew her down until she was sitting before he started unpacking the cooler.

She half-expected him to pull out a jar of Beluga caviar, some fancy French cheeses, and Dom Pérignon champagne. Maybe even a cluster of grapes to feed to her . . . one at a time. So when he started laying out their picnic, Violet laughed.

Instead of expensive fish eggs and stinky cheeses, Jay had packed Doritos and chicken soft tacos—Violet’s favorites. And instead of grapes, he brought Oreos.

He knew her
way
too well.

Violet grinned as he pulled out two clear plastic cups and a bottle of sparkling cider. She giggled. “What? No champagne?”

He shrugged, pouring a little of the bubbling apple juice into each of the flimsy cups. “I sorta thought that a DUI might ruin the mood.” He lifted his cup and clinked—or rather,
tapped
—it against hers. “Cheers.” He watched her closely as she took a sip.

For several moments, they were silent. The lights swayed above them, creating shadows that danced over them. The park was peaceful, asleep, as the lake’s waters lapped theshore. Across from them, lights from the houses along the water’s edge cast rippling reflections on the shuddering surface. All of these things transformed the ordinary park into a romantic winter rendezvous.

Violet reached for one of the tacos, amazed that it was still warm.

Jay watched as she took a bite. “Is everything okay, Vi?”

She swallowed, setting the rest down. “It’s perfect. . . .” She wrapped her blanket around her and went to Jay’s chair. She leaned over him, her curls falling around her shoulders like a dark curtain. “
You’re
perfect.” She smiled as she collapsed on top of him, kissing him.

He groaned and pulled her closer, making room for her as the kiss deepened.

She’d wanted to be in control but had too quickly lost the upper hand. Her breathing became uneven, and she pressed herself against him, squirming to get closer. The warmth between them spread through her like a fever, making her restless and impatient.

He stopped her then, before there was no going back, drawing his face away to create the most microscopic fissure between them. “You taste like tacos.”

Violet gasped as she tried to catch her breath. “What?” She blinked, trying to gather her thoughts. “Really, Jay? Is that a complaint or something?”

He shook his head. “Of course not.”

“Good. Because this is:
I hate it when you stop like that
.” She pushed herself away from him and sat upright, crossing her arms in front of her.

“Come on, Violet, that’s not what I meant.” The dazed look in his eyes only made Violet feel slightly better. She was glad he was at least a little bit bothered. “It’s just that I wanted to talk to you . . . you know, before we get
distracted
.”

“God, I really
am
the guy,” she glowered, but her shoulders slumped.

He hauled her toward him, dragging her into his arms. “Stop it. You are
not
the guy.” He kissed her on the mouth, ignoring the fact that she wasn’t kissing back. But as annoyed as she was, it was hard to stay mad. Especially here . . . now. It truly was magical.

So when he pulled out the Oreos and dangled them in front of her—a peace offering—she shook her head and sighed. “You’re impossible.” But there was no real fight in her words, and she couldn’t stop her lips from twitching when he grinned down at her.

He took her reluctant smile as surrender and settled back, bringing her with him until they were curled up against each other.

Violet took a cookie and twisted it apart, eating first one half and then the other, the way she’d always eaten them since she was a little girl.

Jay waited a moment before breaking the silence. “I know you really don’t like to talk about this stuff, but I want to make sure you’re okay. Ever since that day in Seattle with Chelsea, you’ve been going through something. I haven’t asked you about it, because I knew you needed some time to work things out, but now . . . I just thought . . . you know, that maybe you’d want to talk about it. Maybe tell me about the boy.”

Violet froze. The silence that followed could have swallowed her; it seemed to deepen with each second that passed. She wanted to say something, just to make the hush between them vanish, to replace it with something.
Anything
. But she couldn’t. Her voice was gone; words escaped her; her thoughts had gone astray.

She didn’t want to think about the boy. Not now. Not ever again.

She’d spent so much time trying to erase him from her memory, so much time trying to banish him, that she was unwilling to reopen that door, even at Jay’s request.

She didn’t know why he would want her to. Why he would ask her to do that.

Violet tipped her head back, struggling for the right thing to say but coming up empty. Finally she just shook her head. “I can’t.”

She thought he’d argue, try to convince her. But he didn’t. Of course he didn’t. He was Jay, and Jay wouldn’t push her like that. She should have known better.

He smiled sweetly, crookedly, and her pulse hammered out of control. “Okay,” he answered, pressing a whisper-soft kiss to her brow. His hand spread over her hip, his fingertips gentle, reassuring.

They lay there like that, in a different kind of silence now, watching the lake and the stars, listening to the night, each basking in the warmth of the other. Violet listened to the muffled sounds of his heart until her breathing slowed, becoming steady and even. She let him wrap his arms around her. He kissed her, but with more restraint this time, more caution than before.

And even though she hated to be the one to end their evening, she knew that someone had to.

“We should probably go,” she finally said, pulling her cell phone out to check the time. “It’ll be after ten by the time we get home.”