Talon (Ashes & Embers Book 4) (37 page)

T
wo days
after Talon left my house so abruptly, he shows up at my kiosk in the mall, ignoring me while checking out the bath bombs. He picks up a few and brings them over to where I'm sitting on a stool by my register.

"What are you doing?" I ask, amused. Behind him, I can see three teen girls looking at him, most likely recognizing him, debating if they should approach him. They see me watching them and walk away.

"Just buying some of this bath stuff. I hear it's good. My name's Talon, by the way."

He hands me his credit card and I slowly take it from him, confused. "Did you hit your head again?"

Smiling, he shakes his head. "Nope. You're supposed to tell me your name, though."

For a minute, I think he's back on the meds and has lost his mind, and then I realize what he's doing. Laughing, I run his card through the machine.
I can't believe he's doing this.

"My name is Asia." I hand him his card back and our fingers touch, sending a familiar tingle through my body.

"I gotta say, you've got the prettiest eyes I've ever seen. I bet you hear that about a hundred times a day, though, huh?"

"Actually, no. You're the first."

He grins and takes the bag of soaps from me. "I do have a confession."

"Okay…and that is?"

"I really don't take baths. But I saw you when I was over there buying my e-cigs, and I was like, ‘damn, that girl is beautiful, and I gotta go talk to her’."

"Oh, really?"

He nods, his long hair falling over his eyes. I want to reach out and push it back, like I’ve done a hundred times. "Do you think since I just bought a hundred bucks worth of soap, maybe I could get your phone number?"

I chew my lip skeptically. "I don't know… You're really not my type," I tease.

He groans and shakes his head, laughing.

"Give me a chance, baby. I don't bite."

Playing along, I grab one of my business cards and write my cell number on the back. He takes it from me with a big smile, melting me. "I'll give you a buzz, maybe we could grab a bite to eat."

"Sure," I say noncommittally.

I wait for him to call, but he doesn't. Four days later, an unknown number calls my phone late at night, and I let myself fall into Talon's little plan. It actually
is
pretty perfect, because we missed out on the fun and excitement of dating and slowly getting to know each other in the normal way.

For our first date, he takes me to a movie, then drives me home and kisses me good-bye at my door.

Over the next few days, he sends me random, cute text messages and has flowers delivered to my house.

He makes me wait a few days before he calls again. And I sit by the phone, wondering if he will want to see me again. Hoping he will.

And when he finally calls, my heart jumps with excitement, and I tell him I'm busy and will call him in a few days. I don't want to seem too easy. He isn't expecting that, which makes it even more fun.

And he waits, hoping I’ll call. And I do.

We go for walks in the park and kiss in the grass. He buys me cotton candy and sticks it to my nose.

We sit on the phone for hours, talking about everything and nothing. He tells me how he's learning to read lips, and I didn't know that. We share our favorite childhood memories and learn we went to kindergarten together, before his family moved to a different town nearby. The crazy irony of it makes us both laugh, and that sparks a niggling memory in the back of my mind.

I have one box of things from my childhood. It holds the two toys I had as a little girl, a few pictures that were left after my mother moved out, my brother’s football, and the first Valentine's Day card I ever received—in kindergarten. Reaching into the box I pulled out of my closet, I find what I’m looking for, the red paper faded, the lacy edges yellowed. But there, in black crayon, are little-boy-scribbled words:

B
e mine
.

Love,

Tally xo

T
alon Valentine was
my first valentine.

When I show it to him, his mouth falls open and he holds it gently in his hands. "Wow. I remember making this now. My mom told me how important it was to give it to the right girl. I guess she was right. I don’t even think I knew your name."

"No other boy gave me one, and I can’t believe I didn’t remember this when I found out your name the day of our wedding," I say, remembering how I coveted the card and hid it from my parents. "All the other little girls got a pile of them, but I just got this one, and I was so excited about it."

He pulls me into his arms. "I think the writing's on the wall, Asia. We belong together. We always have."

L
ater
, while we're lying on my couch, making out like teenagers, he pulls my shirt off for the first time since we started this little dating scenario. It was his decision this time that we not have sex until the time was right.

"You still feel so soft," he whispers. "I miss touching you so much."

"Have you touched anyone else? While we were apart?" I ask, not sure I want to hear the answer. I worried when I knew he was on tour, afraid he would start sleeping around again.

"No. No one."

I let out a sigh of relief. "Me either."

"I told you I only want you. I still mean that."

He tilts my head up toward him and kisses my lips softly, his hand caressing my cheek. I pull away slightly to look into his eyes; they're dark and emotional, searching mine. His hand moves behind my neck and pulls me back to him, and the floodgates open. Months of pent-up sadness, anger, desire, and love explode between us and we're kissing hungrily, moaning against each other’s mouths, our tongues wrestling, trying to kiss deeper. He pulls me onto his lap, straddling my legs over him, and runs his hands up and down my naked back, making me shiver beneath his touch. I can feel him between our clothes, hard and hot, and it's clouding my thoughts, making it hard to think straight and not just
do
. I don't think I can wait much longer to be with him in every way again.

He pulls away from me and has a serious expression on his face. "I think we've dated long enough. I want to move to the next step."

"Okay…"

"I heard you never signed your divorce papers from your first marriage," he says.

"Oh. I don't think you signed yours, either."

"Well, that means neither one of us is technically single."

I nod slowly. "That's true."

"I think that might be a problem, actually."

My heart races. "Why is it a problem?"

He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a little box. "I'm not sure how I'm supposed to propose to you if you're already married. I think it violates some sort of law."

I clasp my hand over my mouth. "Oh, my God…"

He opens the box and pulls out a beautiful engagement ring, along with my wedding band.

"I never got to ask you to be my wife. And I need to know, before we go any further, if you'd say yes to me. Now that you know me and you know what you're getting into. And if you say yes, I'm taking you and Pixie home, and I'm gonna make love to you in our bed, in our fuckin' house we picked out together. I don't want to be apart anymore, and I don't want to play any more games, as fun as it's been. I want my wife back."

My heart feels like it’s grown wings. "Yes. My answer will always be yes. I want you to take me home, where we belong."

He slides the rings onto my finger then pulls his own wedding band out of his pocket and hands it to me.

"You want to put this on me again, baby?"

"I do. And I don't want you to ever take it off again." I slide the band back onto his finger, over the tattoo of my name.

"Can I kiss my bride without her turning away from me this time?" he teases. I beat him to it, bringing my lips to his, kissing him like I should have on our wedding day.

"I love you," I whisper.

He brushes his thumb across my lip, smiling when I lightly bite it.

"Let's go home and plan our honeymoon. I'm not sleeping on the couch this time. And you're wearing your dress again so I can rip it off you. And I want the gardener belt again, and one of those lace teddy bear things. And the magic lip balm. I want all the good stuff this time."

I can't stop laughing at him as he rattles off his list.

"What do you want?" he asks. "Rose petals? Champagne? Name it, it's yours."

"Just you and your smile. Forever. That's all I want."

He smiles and kisses my lips. "Consider it yours, jelly bean."

O
nce upon a time
, I had a beautiful Norwegian Forest Cat, named Talon. I called him Tally or Tally-Ho for short, and he would always come running when I called him. Tally was a very regal kitty, with big, powerful paws, long, flowing fur, and a sweet, loving personality once he got to know you. When he was in an extra good mood, he would trill at me, like he was singing, and it was a beautiful, unique sound.

He loved to sit by the window and watch the leaves blow by and also steal the straws out of my iced coffee and hide them in the basement. I had to pretend I didn't know he was going to do this, because it wasn't fun if I just let him do it. :)

One day, I brought a little white, blue-eyed Birman kitten home. I named her Asia.

Talon wasn't happy about this at all at first and completely ignored her. He took all the kitten toys away from her and hid them in the basement with the rest of his treasures.

But Asia was enamored of Tally. She followed him everywhere, chasing his tail, jumping on his back, and waited until he fell asleep every night to quietly curl up against him and cuddle him.

Soon, Talon couldn't resist her charms anymore, and they became best friends. He shared his toys with her, and they slept cuddled up together every night. Sometimes they touched paws while they were sitting looking out the window. They did everything together. They watched the leaves together, they ate together, they played their own little game of tag. Sometimes they would have little fights, and Asia would go off and pout by herself, and Tally would wait a few hours and then go curl up with her, licking her face. And all was forgiven.

For ten years, they were inseparable. They had a bond like I've never seen in two cats before. They were like a little married couple. They ignored all the other cats in the house—only wanting each other.

Last year, my beautiful Talon started to have trouble breathing. It happened very suddenly, seemingly overnight. Asia sat by him, refusing to sleep, with a funny look on her face, and I knew—something was very wrong.

Tally had a tumor in his chest, pressing against his heart and lungs.

The doctor drained fluid from his chest, and Talon felt a little better, and we took him home to give him lots of love and chicken.

Asia cuddled him and rubbed her face against his and glued herself to him even more.

Unfortunately, the tumor grew quickly, and Tally began to struggle to breathe.

There was nothing we could do.

On the outside, he was still handsome, with his beautiful mane and bright eyes.

It broke my heart to see this incredibly sweet, gorgeous boy suffering. He had so much life and love in him, and I was devastated at the unfairness of it all.

And still, all he wanted was his Asia.

Asia refused to leave his side. I had to pull her away from him, to take him away from her.

She chased us to the door, and she was still there when we came back, without her beloved Tally.

Poor little Asia went into a severe depression. She walked around the house crying nonstop for weeks. She refused to eat. She wouldn't let us pet her or go near her. She refused to go into her and Tally's little cat beds. She hid in the basement next to his toy pile.

She's never been the same. Now, she stays in a room by herself, staring out the window. She eats and drinks, naps, and goes back to the window. Nothing else.

I know she's waiting for him to come back, and nothing is more heartbreaking to see.

T
rue love never dies
. Not for anyone.