Chapter 21 The Return #2
“Good goodness, Granddad, he’s the perfect child,” I said while scrolling. Then I looked up at him, “Outside my nephew and niece, Matty and Rayray, of course.”
Fitzy smiled at me. “Of course.”
“And I’ll dash down now to give Patsy a grocery list.” I turned to the group. “What do we say for Sunday? Tacos?”
Prue clapped. “I adore tacos.”
I looked at Battle. “Honey?”
“I don’t think there’s a human on the planet who would turn down tacos,” he replied.
Oh so very fond of this guy.
“Erm, that human would be me,” Tempie said.
Battle scowled at her.
“How about a taco salad?” I suggested.
“Don’t make special food for Tempie. She eats what we all eat,” Battle decreed.
“It’s all the same ingredients, honey,” I told him. “It’ll take me thirty seconds.”
“Mm,” was his only reply.
“The concept of a…taco salad”—Tempie saying those last two words like she would say wearing flats nearly had me cracking up—“intrigues me.”
“Taco salad for you it is,” I decided. “And maybe my rosemary roast garlic chicken on Monday?” I suggested to the girls, then to Battle, “Or I could do that on Sunday. Proper Sunday roast, with Yorkshire puds, sprouts and gravy.”
Prue clapped again. “Oh, let’s do a Sunday roast.”
“As long as you make your tacos for me at a later date,” Battle put in.
“Perfect,” I said, sipped my martini, set it aside and got up, telling Fitzy as I returned his phone, “I’ll pop down now so it isn’t left too late.”
“Thank you, Miss Vivi. The missus is in her office.”
I grinned at him, and on my way down to Patsy’s office, I made a mental grocery list, adding to it the puds I also was going to make.
I met Patsy in her office, wrote it all down and headed back up.
As I walked back into the plum parlor, Chassie was saying, “Capri has beaches.”
“Switzerland, though, is so gorgeous. I’ve always wanted to go,” Prue replied.
I didn’t know what they were talking about.
I did know that when I sat down, Battle grabbed my hand in a punishing grip, which made me start to pay extra close attention.
“Capri is gorgeous too,” Chassie said.
“My skin and the sun don’t mix,” Prue returned.
“Maybe we should go to Ravenna and ask her where we should holiday,” Chassie suggested.
My heart stuttered.
Holiday?
Those two were discussing where to vacation?
Now it was me who was holding Battle’s hand in a punishing grip.
“Oh! Let’s!” Prue agreed. “The cards will tell us where to go.”
Crap.
Was I going to burst into tears?
Stupidly, I looked to Battle to see him studying the G&T he had resting on his knee, but a muscle was working up his cheek as he fought to keep his own emotion in check.
That far from helped me in controlling my tears.
In the end, I just kept hold of his hand, even when I retrieved my drink.
I took a healthy sip.
Chassie’s attention drifted to us holding hands, and she smiled brightly.
Battle’s fingers pumped mine.
Mine pumped back.
“You two are so cute,” Chassie said.
“Thank you, sweetheart,” Battle replied, his voice slightly thick, but he was hanging in there.
I shifted my attention to Tempie to see she was swirling her olives in her martini.
And she was smiling.
Broadly.
* * *
The man practically ran me off my heels when we were trying to escape Chelsea.
But post-dinner, after we’d been apart for four days, and I wasn’t teetering in heels, did he drag me to my room?
No.
We strolled there like we had all the time in the world.
We were headed to my room because, during pudding, I’d leaned his way and whispered, “Your room or mine?”
To which he’d found my ear and whispered back, “Considering I intend to fuck you in every room in this house, we might as well start now. Yours.”
After that, I made a mental note to initiate no more, even minimally sexy talk in front of his sisters, because my body reacted so strongly to his words.
Fortunately, when we made my door, Battle stopped messing around.
He did this in order to start messing around.
As such, he used his hand in mine to whirl me whereupon I slammed against his chest, he wrapped his arms around me and kissed me deeply as he backed into my room, taking me with him.
I was all in to win (in other words, all over him), when he sat on my bed, also taking me with him, only immediately to stand, break the kiss and turn his head to look down at my bed.
In more than a bit of a haze, I looked too.
There was a book there.
The cover was beautifully imagined swirls and flourishes in which were hidden dragons and ridiculously handsome men with wings on their backs, all of this in greens, blues, purples and shades of gray.
And in the middle of all of this, in silver foil, there was the title Into the Gilt Frame.
Under it, it said, Written and Illustrated By Prudence Talyn.
I gasped and my hands flew to my mouth.
From behind them, I asked, “She’s been published?”
“No,” Battle replied. “Chassie took one of her books and had it printed and bound as a Christmas present a couple of years ago.” He reached and nabbed a sheet of thick, soft gray stationery with an artsy, blocky monogram of PJT (Prudence’s middle name was Joanna) at the top that was lying beside the book. “There’s a note. Addressed to you.”
Excited, I took it from him.
And read it aloud.
“Vivi. You liked Battie’s portrait so I thought maybe you might want to see this. It’s an early thing, not very good. If you don’t like it, that’s okay. But I thought you might want to see it. Love, Prue.”
With big, happy eyes, I looked up Battle.
He smiled indulgently and stated, “I suppose we can have sex in the morning.”
Gah!
He was so great.
But…
Was he crazy?
“Are you crazy?” I asked.
He didn’t answer.
I took the note and the book and put them on my nightstand.
After which, I promptly returned to Battle.
And jumped him.
* * *
The room was dark.
Battle was asleep, head on my pillow, the one I was leaning up against. His arm was resting snug around my hips.
I had a little reading light shaped like a sloth that I was using to read Prue’s extraordinary book.
Battle was right.
The story had depth, also emotion, heat, humor.
And the illustrations were crazy-amazing.
However, I’d had two orgasms, so as much as I wanted to keep reading, I was losing it.
I didn’t want to miss anything.
I’d have to return to the book tomorrow.
I switched off the light and set it and the book aside.
I slouched down and turned into Battle’s embrace.
“It’s good, isn’t it?” he murmured sleepily.
“No, it’s exceptional.”
His arm got tighter around me.
I curled mine around him.
“’Night, love,” he said.
“’Night, baby,” I replied.
And we went to sleep.