Fangs But No Fangs (21 page)

"Not too bad," she told him, but he didn't get the feeling she'd be a devoted red wine fan.

"So what about you?" she asked, setting the glass back on the table. "How did you get so rich that you can work at a bar for free?"

"I inherited, and I invested," he stated flatly, feeling no pride in his money, especially when he saw how hard she worked to keep the bar and herself going.

"That requires savvy."

He raised an eyebrow in acknowledgement, but didn't comment. He didn't want to talk about yet another thing he'd taken totally for granted until he met her. Fortunately the waiter returned to take their order.

"You go first," she said, picking up the menu to quickly peruse the entrees.

Christian ordered the filet mignon, very rare.

She ordered the grilled salmon. And an iced tea.

He smiled at that. She smiled back.

"So what about the rest of your family?" he asked her.

"What about them?" He could tell she was purposely being obtuse.

"Do you have other siblings?"

"Yes," she said, and he could tell she wasn't going to elaborate.

He reached across the table to touch her hand, which toyed with the stem of her wineglass. "I'm not trying to make you uncomfortable. I just want to know more about you."

She stared at him for a moment, then sighed. "I have five brothers and two sisters."

"Big family."

She nodded. "Yes. One big ole dysfunctional family."

Jolee studied Christian's expression. Nothing but interest showed in his eyes. Part of her wanted to just change the subject altogether. She'd been embarrassed enough when she'd thoughtlessly announced her mother was an alcoholic. And he'd met Vance. She didn't want to talk about the rest. But she wanted a real relationship with this man, and she knew she had to be honest with him. He should know who she was and where she came from. She wanted to prove that she was different, not to run away and deny her past. If he couldn't accept her after the truth, then he wasn't the one for her.

"Well," she started slowly. "Vance isn't exception to the rule. All five of my brothers are in and out of trouble with the law on a regular basis. In fact, last I heard, my oldest brother, Rex, was in prison for assault, and one of my other brothers, Harlen, is also in prison for manslaughter. I'm sure it's only a matter of time before Vance, who is my youngest brother, is back in prison for possession. He's already done two stints in the Ashland Correctional Facility. I don't actually know where my other brothers, Rusty and Bobby Jon, are. Knowing the two of them, they're on a tristate crime spree."

She glanced at Christian to check his reaction, but he just watched her with those enigmatic eyes.

"My sister, Libby Ann, has just divorced her third husband and moved herself and her five kids in with her ex-husband's brother. I imagine she'll either be married or pregnant again anytime. And my oldest sister, Fanny, ran away when I was about seven. I heard she'd made it as far as Vegas, and she was working the strip. Although I don't know if that's true or not."

She waited, watching his face, expecting him to be appalled or scandalized, or at the very least disappointed that he was wasting his time on someone who obviously wasn't worth his attention. But he gave her none of those responses; instead he reached across the table and stroked her cheek.

"Jolee, you amaze me more and more."

She was pretty sure her jaw hit the linen tablecloth. He wasn't disgusted in the least by the description of her seriously dysfunctional family. He actually looked… proud.

"Are you crazy? I just told you that my family would make most of the Manson family look like pillars of the community."

He nodded, taking a sip of his wine as though she'd told him nothing out of the ordinary.

"All families have a few skeletons," he said.

"Does yours?"

He made a face she didn't understand. "You could say that."

"What are your family skeletons?"

He shook his head as if to tell her he wouldn't answer.

"Wait," she said, "I told you mine."

Christian looked down at his place setting, running a long, tapered finger down the handle of his fork. "Jolee, for all practical purposes, I don't have a family. And I believe if you did talk to my brothers, they'd say I'm the skeleton."

She paused. Because of Lilah. She suddenly felt like such an idiot.

"I'm sorry."

"No, I'm sorry," he said sincerely as he reached for his wine.

She took a sip from hers, too. She was starting to see that maybe they weren't that different after all. They were both recovering from a traumatic past. They were both alone. And they both needed to learn how to trust. She gazed at him over the rim of her glass, a warm, protective feeling stirring deep inside her. They might have started out in very different places, but they were struggling with a lot of the same issues. They needed each other.

She set the drink aside and straightened her posture. Tonight was the most special night of her life. She was in an amazingly romantic restaurant with a gorgeous, wonderful man, and she wasn't going to let this moment be ruined by their pasts.

"Okay, enough talk about heavy stuff," she stated. "Let's think up a new topic."

Christian set his glass aside and relaxed back against his chair. "What's the topic?"

"What's your favorite cartoon character?"

He frowned.

"This is very important stuff," she assured him.

He pondered the question. "I guess… Mickey Mouse."

"I knew it," she said as if his answer was very telling.

He raised a curious eyebrow. "And yours?"

"Well, Minnie Mouse, of course."

Despite the pain of thinking about his brothers, Jolee managed to change the atmosphere with her cheerful chatter. She kept her silly questions coming all through dinner, and he easily found himself responding, feeling lighter and more carefree than he could remember. And he'd managed to discover through her silly inquiries that she wanted to travel, she loved the color green, but she didn't like peas.

As much as her funny comments and wacky insights amused him, just being with her created an astonishing sense of contentment, deep inside him, that he couldn't remember ever feeling. His existence had always been about constant questing, constant struggles to feel satisfied. He wasn't sure he'd ever felt true contentment until he'd met Jolee.

He loved to watch how her eyes sparkled when she laughed or the look of amazement when she noticed another detail about their surroundings. Through her eyes, he saw things for the first time. And not just for the first time since he crossed over, maybe for the first time ever.

Jolee finished her salmon with a pleased sigh. "That was absolutely delicious."

Christian smiled, amused at her satisfied expression. Even watching her eat fascinated him. She ate like she'd never tasted food before and every spice and seasoning was new to her.

But then maybe they were. He knew from the little she'd said about her family that luxuries like restaurants weren't something she'd experienced. And her money was too tight now to treat herself. She might very well have gone without.

He studied her, taking notice of her cheekbones, which would be prominent even if she was thirty pounds heavier. But were they so dramatic now because she wasn't eating? She reached for her iced tea, and he saw the delicate jut of the bones in her wrist, and the slenderness of her arm. He knew her build had probably always been tall and slender, but he now realized that she was almost too thin.

Not that that dampened his desire for her. He eyed her graceful fingers, still holding the glass. He remembered them stroking his hair and face, his shoulders and back. No, she definitely aroused him beyond all reason.

The waiter arrived to clear their plates.

"Are you interested in a dessert menu?" he asked.

"Yes," Christian said automatically.

After the waiter left, Jolee grinned at him.

"What?" he asked, although giving a bemused smile to her.

"You must have a sweet tooth. You barely touched your meal, but you want dessert."

A sweet tooth. There had to be a joke in there somewhere.

"Yes," he told her, even though he'd really requested the menu for her. He wanted her to eat her fill. As far as his own appetite, he'd fed before he left his trailer from pilfered bags from the hospital. So his hunger was fully satisfied. But he'd even managed to eat a couple bites of his filet, suffering only the slightest bout of nausea. Fortunately the steak had been very rare. That helped.

"Well, you should eat more," she said with a worried scowl, like he'd seen her use on Jed. "You don't want to get feeling light-headed."

Warmth heated in the pit of his stomach, radiating up to his chest. Who knew being mothered could be so enjoyable? It was on the tip of his tongue to tell her she needed to eat, as well, but he caught himself. Knowing Jolee, she'd take offense to the comment, assuming he saw a flaw in her. And that certainly wasn't the case. He'd only found perfection.

The waiter returned with the menus, but Jolee didn't even open hers. Instead, she gazed at a lit cobblestone path that led down to the lake.

"Would you prefer to take a walk?"

She smiled, her eyes bright. "Yes. I'd love to."

Christian waved the waiter over to settle the bill.

A few minutes later, they were on the winding path, strolling toward the water. A warm breeze stirred the air and gentle waves lapped the rocks on the shore.

"Oh, look," Jolee exclaimed, pointing out a small gazebo on the edge of the lake, nearly hidden amongst flowering trees, heavy with white and pink blossoms.

She caught Christian's hand and pulled him toward the small building. The gazebo was weathered, but well-built with benches along two of the walls.

She released his hand and walked inside to look out at the water. He followed. The moon and stars reflected and rippled on the dark surface.

"This is so nice," she said, closing her eyes and tilting her head back. The air played with wisps of her hair, and his fingers itched to do the same.

"Happy?" he asked instead.

She blinked over at him, then a broad smile curled her lips. "This is heaven."

Then she hugged him, holding him tight against her slender frame.

"No," he murmured, "this is heaven." He nudged her chin up and captured her lips.

Jolee clutched Christian's shoulders, leaning into his wonderful kiss. His lips moved over hers, sampling her as if she was some rare delicacy that had to be savored slowly.

She moaned, desire building with each lick, each nibble.

He seemed to sense her rising need, pressing his mouth even more hungrily to hers, deepening the kiss, and sending eddies of need through her veins.

Her hands moved over the hard muscles of his shoulders, down his arms, and then back up again. All through dinner she'd ached for this, for his touch, to touch him. Now that she was here in his arms, it was even more thrilling, more breathtaking than she imagined.

His mouth moved from her lips to brush against her jaw-line, brushes of heated velvet on her skin. She arched against him, her body desperate for more. He moved to rest his forehead against hers. His breathing was as uneven as hers, and she could also feel his body was as aroused as hers. She had to force herself not to rub wantonly against him.

"Jolee, you make me crazy," he muttered, his voice low as if he were trying very hard to control himself. And she knew he was trying to go slow. For her.

She didn't want that control, she realized with a touch of surprise. She wanted him to give her all the passion he held carefully in check. The realization should have appalled her, she knew. With the few other men she dated, it had been ridiculously easy. But then, she'd never wanted another man like she wanted Christian. She ached for him to touch her again, like he had on the car. And she needed to touch him in return, feeling all that lean strength under her hands. She was surely going crazy, too.

"Jolee?" He frowned down at her, concerned that she hadn't reacted other than to stare up at him.

«Christian…» She wanted to tell him that she wanted everything. That she couldn't wait to be with him. But still, in the back of her mind, doubt niggled. They were very much alike in a lot of ways, but they were different, too. Maybe their backgrounds were too different. Maybe he was out of reach.

But he wasn't. He was right here in her arms, and she trusted him. She did, she realized with a small surge of giddiness. And she suddenly felt more confident.

"Christian, I don't want to go slowly. I want to make love with you. Tonight."

Christian was sure that he must be hearing things. He had to be. Hadn't they decided their relationship had to go slow? Hadn't they both admitted that they didn't really know what they were doing in a relationship? He certainly didn't. He didn't have a clue. All of this was totally new to him. But at the same time, he did know that he only felt right when he was holding her.

"Are you sure?" What if this was just an impulsive decision brought on by passion?

She stared at him and nodded. "I've never been more certain."

"But it's rather fast."

She nodded, but the desire in her eyes didn't wane.

"I don't want you to think you made a mistake later." He truly didn't want that. He couldn't bear for her to pull away again. He couldn't bear it if he did something again that caused her to pull away.

She laughed, the sound soft and a little breathless. "The fact that you are trying talk me out of it only makes me more sure."

He blinked at that. "That's all I had to do to convince you?"

She laughed again. "Apparently. Now please just kiss me."