Chapter Seven
“Merciful Lady.” Gigi almost got hit in the face by the heavy metal fire safety door when she tried to open it.
The storm winds had been whipped up into a frenzy.
And thanks to the outside lights she had just turned on, she could see that large drops of rain were being driven sideways in a relentless torrent.
“Idiot.” She muttered under her breath. Not sure whether she was referring to herself or the stubborn ass in the flapping water logged tent set up on her sundeck.
Shivering as a blast of cold air bullied its way indoors, making her doubly glad she’d paused long enough to put on her dressing gown, the one covered in pink palm trees that matched her pyjamas, before coming downstairs.
Lightning had her blinking for a moment.
Then an immediate crash of thunder had Gigi instinctively hunching her shoulders.
Mule headed butthead, she couldn’t in all good conscience leave him out there.
Reaching for the light switch she flicked it on and off, on and off.
No way he could be sleeping through all this.
Really? She continued to flip the deck lights on and off. Did Nico actually intend to stay out there to prove… oh, she watched as the tent material bulged in several places, he was trying to fight his way free of the clinging material, plastered to him thanks to the driving wind and rain.
Finally Nico managed to free himself, instantly making a dash for the door. The tent abruptly sailing off into the darkness with him no longer present to anchor it.
It was a heavy door, and it took both of them to heave it shut.
Both panting hard with the effort. Heavens, the man was a bedraggled, pissed off, leaking mess.
Automatically Gigi handed him a tea towel from a nearby rack, and then had to bite her lip as he held up the small piece of fabric in sheer disbelief.
Yeah, he was right, that probably wasn’t going to cut it.
“Wait here. Don’t move. I’m not spending the wee small hours mopping up my kitchen after your stubborn ass.” She sped through the industrial kitchen, ducking into the linen closet, grabbing two thick cream tablecloths intended for catered parties. Beggars and all that.
“You’d better strip.” Handing over the tablecloths. “I’ll put your clothes in the dryer.” With the back door closed the storm sounded a lot more muffled. And there were no picture windows to distract any of the kitchen staff with the view, so only the rumbles of crashing thunder could be heard.
Whilst Nico muttered expletives under his breath as he yanked off sopping wet clothes, Gigi moved around the kitchen, flicking on the more muted lights above the stoves, whilst turning off the bright overheads.
It was just after three in the morning, any sane person would be inside, safe, dry and warm.
Speaking of which, she was feeling a little chilled, and Nico must be feeling even worse.
By the time she’d poured out two Irish coffees, going heavy on the whiskey in both, Nico had encased himself in one dry tablecloth, wrapping it around his chest and draping it over his shoulders. His dark chocolate hair damp and curling riotously thanks to a hard rub down.
“Sit.” Gigi pointed at a nearby barstool, placing the Irish coffee next to him. “Drink.”
While he took a deep draught, Gigi whisked up his clothes and the now wet second tablecloth he’d used as a makeshift towel, throwing everything into the dryer located next to the linen closet just off to the side of the kitchen.
“Did you really think you could stay out there in this storm?” Settling onto a bar stool across from him. Making sure to tuck her feet underneath her, hoping he wouldn’t notice they were encased in purple bunny slippers. Her sisters’ idea of an amusing Christmas present.
“It was only a little rain and wind to start with, then it turned into that.”
“And you were just going to what, ride it out like some kind of idiot storm chasing weatherman? You could have rung me, told me how bad it was getting. People die in storms like that, you, better than anyone, should know that.”
“I was perfectly fine. Granted I’m a little wet.”
“Enough. Are you even listening to yourself? I get why you keep trying to do everything on your own Nico. But guess what? I’m a grown ass woman.
I’m perfectly capable of looking after myself.
I don’t need a keeper, a protector or a saviour.
This senior / junior partner - you’d better run for it at the first sign of danger, little missy - shit.
” Personally, she thought she did an excellent job of imitating his gruff slightly musical accent.
“It ends here and it ends now. No. You shut up and drink your coffee. You need me. This curse you’ve got going on, it’s gaining momentum.
The only thing standing in its way appears to be me.
You know that. Otherwise you wouldn’t have spent the afternoon on my sundeck doing paperwork and riding out a killer storm on it, would you? ”
“You know I was out there earlier?”
“Everyone in three towns knows it. Every customer who came in the store wanted to know what you were doing out there. So of course I told them we’re engaged in a torrid - strictly physical - affair and that you couldn’t tear yourself away from my side, waiting eagerly in the wings for my next booty call. ”
Thunder crashing overhead mixed with Gigi’s loud burst of laughter.
“You should see your face. No, I didn’t say that.
I told everyone we’re collaborating on several upcoming catering gigs and brainstorming a united approach.
And let’s cross our fingers that everyone at the bar yesterday was too dazed and confused by your curse to recall us kissing. ” Savouring a large measure of coffee.
“I—”
“Nope. I haven’t finished yet. You need me, Casanova.
If you want to stay sane and be able to sleep ever again, you’re going to have to change your attitude.
And don’t forget it’s my curse muting ability that will keep the hordes of adoring clamouring women at bay.
Who very soon may not be satisfied with just shoving their phone numbers into your pockets.
There was a distinct air of potential violence accompanying that lot yesterday.
Do you really want innocent women getting hurt fighting over your cursed ass because you’re too stubborn and scared to ask for my help? ”
“Scared? That’s ridiculous.”
“I’m not your sister.”
“I know that. Of course you aren’t.”
“No, I mean I’m not your responsibility.
I get being the oldest sibling sets you up for life to automatically take charge and go into protect mode anytime a crisis looms on the horizon.
Trust me, I have a younger brother and two sisters, I completely understand where you’re coming from.
But Darcy’s web mage powers have deemed we need to team up to help stop this deity led apocalypse that will be the end of days for the Earth.
Meaning, we need to be equal partners in everything.
Which includes all the decision making and the facing off against any looming danger. ”
Silence, except for the muted sounds of the driving wind, rain, and occasional thunderous boom filled the air for a minute or two. Nico’s dark eyes staring hard at Gigi in contemplation.
“I can’t guarantee your safety.”
“And I can’t guarantee yours. But you have skills and I have skills. Doesn’t it make more sense to explore how we can leverage off those as a team and plug any gaps we might have?”
“That does sounds sensible. However, those fluffy bunny slippers of yours aren’t exactly working in your favour.”
“Then how about the three dead bodies I currently have stacked in my freezer. Will they sway you?”
“I thought you said there were only two dead bodies in there?”
“Yeah, about that. It wasn’t the storm that woke me tonight, it was the golden skinned, golden haired idiot, wearing a green toga that matched his eyes, packing a syringe full of some decidedly toxic shit breaking into my store that got my attention first.”
“Golden? As in like glowing?”
“Yes.”
“Is he carrying a silver dove ring? You didn’t touch it, did you?”
“I haven’t had time to examine the body yet, I was too busy getting a stubborn idiot who doesn’t know any better to come inside before he gets hit by a piece of flying metal or is struck by lightning.”
“I’m not sensing any silver.” Nico glanced in the direction of the freezer. “Doesn’t mean he’s not carrying something cursed though.” Reluctantly he got to his feet. He was so tired, he really didn’t want to have to deal with this right now.
“Hold on. The body isn’t going anywhere. I think we should take a long hard look at him in the morning.” Gigi yawned. “Come on. I have an exceedingly small and incredibly uncomfortable pull out sofa bed up on the loft floor that has your name on it.”
* * *
Nico checked on the stewing apples, they were coming along nicely.
Shifting his attention next to the pancakes, they were fine, his gaze lifting to drink in the view out the picture window past the open planned living area that took up the entire rear wall of this floor.
The ocean glittering bright blue, matching the cloudless seemingly endless sky.
Seagulls wheeling overhead on the thermals.
Only three brightly coloured sailboats in evidence, taking advantage of the gorgeous early post-storm morning.
After several hours of deep sleep Nico could enjoy the view. The sofa bed had been as promised small, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. He’d awoken refreshed, and a little embarrassed, thinking back on the way he’d been acting over the last week and the pompous way he’d been speaking to Gigi.
She’d called it. At the first sign of danger he’d gone into hyper big brother mode. Problem solver. Decision maker. Protector. Guardian. Defender.