Chapter 2 #2
Her smile is still nervous, and yet there's a happy warmth shining from it that makes me wish I had my sketch pad. Usually that’s reserved for tattoo ideas, but doing a portrait could be fun.
It’d certainly flex my creative muscles in a way I haven’t in a while.
"I think we met yesterday, maybe? Eli, isn't it?
" She asks, and her voice makes me smile back before I know I’m gonna.
"Yeah," I say, with another shake of my head. She's going to think I have flies living in my ear if I don't quit it. "I'm sorry I didn't say a proper hey yesterday. I get kind of, uh...fixated when I'm working."
"No, no," she hurriedly assures me, "It's fine, you were busy." She seems to cast around for something to say. "It...it looked really pretty. I mean, the, uh, tattoo...that you were doing...it was nice."
I can't stop looking at her eyes, mentally mixing different blacks and blues and whites to get the irises just the right shade if I painted them. A brief image enters my head of her in the nude, curving over my couch, posing for me with that shy smile and a wicked look in those silvery eyes as I painted her, and it sends a flash of pure, uncomplicated arousal straight to my already twitching dick. I shift as subtly as I can, stunned to find I’m barreling towards full blown wood.
What’s wrong with you? I ask myself, and cough to clear the impossible daydream.
"Thanks," I respond. "Leo will be here soon, but I've just turned the coffee maker on, if you want to come through, get settled in?"
"Sure," she murmurs, and holds up her grocery bag.
"I just picked up some biscuits as well, just..
.you know, as a first day gesture, or something.
" She's a little flushed, like she's second guessing the idea. Her eyes widen in sudden panic. “Oh, god – no-one’s diabetic or lactose intolerant, or anything, are they?”
“No,” I reassure her, and she looks relieved. I take the bag from her and take a look inside. They’re chocolate coated, a sure-fire crowd pleaser in this establishment.
"Thanks, that's real nice of you," I say as I lead her to the kitchen. She smiles and takes off her coat, revealing the slope of her neck as it meets her shoulder. I think of scraping my teeth softly along the sensitive skin in that area, and soothing it with my tongue as she moans near my ear -
"Would you like some tea or coffee?" I ask quickly, to try and break the physical reactions this woman seems to have caused in me. I’m being ridiculous, and these thoughts are not helping my wood situation.
I can't decide if I can't wait for Leo to arrive and take her away, or if I want to just stay in the kitchen with her all day.
Or, if she was willing, pin her to the wall and kiss her senseless.
"Erm...could I have a glass of water, please?" she asks, as if she's being impolite to me by wanting something other than what I offered. "I'm so sorry, I'm just not much of a hot drink person."
"Yeah, sure," I say, and fetch a glass from the cupboard.
It's still a little warm after I unloaded it from the dishwasher this morning, so I run it under the cold tap for a few seconds before filling it up.
"By the way," I say to make conversation as I hand it over, "when people say biscuits to me, that's not what I think of.
Those are definitely cookies," I say with a smile so I don't come across like a condescending ass.
The contrast between our accents is stark: me, the boy from the Big Easy, and her, with her soft, bright British murmur.
I'd be lying if I said I wasn't enjoying it, which is strange, because I've lived in the UK for years and I've long since gotten used to how British people talk.
But this...hell, this is something extra.
She smiles as she accepts the glass from me. My finger brushes her for a split second, and the hair on my arms stands up. This is ridiculous. "I s’pose they would be. I'm not sure what biscuits are in America, if they even are anything?"
I whip out my cell and Google them quickly.
She moves a little closer, and damn it, she smells like peaches, a perfume as petal soft as her mouth looks.
She's maybe a foot away from me as she peers at the image on my screen, but my whole body lights up at her nearness. She’s dressed professionally in black trousers and a loose cream blouse, nothing too fancy, but not as casual as we are in our jeans and band shirts.
Still, I’ve had less potent feelings when previous lovers have dressed up in lingerie for me.
Even my ex-wife never once got me to this eager, instantly hungry state, especially this early on in our acquaintance.
She looks kind of fragile, though, as though she could use a cheeseburger, a stiff drink, and a long hug.
I wish I could take her for one of each, but…
"Those look like scones to me," she says with a smile.
"Scones?" I ask.
"Well, scons, I suppose." She said it with a hard 'o' sound first of all, to rhyme with ‘bones’, and I frown a little in confusion. She chuckles at my expression, and the gentle sound makes something in the pit of my stomach glow like fireflies. It feels really nice.
Stop it.
"There's a bit of controversy about how the word is pronounced," she says, "and I always used to pronounce it 'scones', but then someone I used to work with insisted it was 'scons', because you have one on a plate, and one minute it's there, next minute... s'gone."
I laugh.
And that's when Leo pokes his head around the door.
For a second he looks nonplussed. "I'm gonna say that, since you made Eli laugh, you've passed your probation period, so congrats," he says, the ass. I love Leo, and not just cos he’s my cousin, but the man is too observant for his own good.
And it's true, I'm not known for being the smiley guy. It's deliberate on my part; I’m not as extroverted as Leo, and like to keep most people at a distance for a number of reasons. But Emily’s had me smiling and laughing within five minutes.
And now he's going to yank my chain about this every chance he gets.
"Hey, I laugh," I protest, wanting to make light of it.
He doesn't, Leo mouths silently at Emily with a brief shake of his head.
"I do when something's funny. Probably why you never hear me laughing around you, frère." I sip my coffee.
Leo grins but he still looks curiously at me. Reassured that we're just messing and aren’t truly giving each other shit, Emily smiles at us both, which makes my gut tingle in the best way. In a way I haven’t felt in a long time.
My other cousin, Dean, wanders in and makes straight for the coffee machine.
His jeans are rumpled and dirty, and his leather jacket isn't straight, the collar hanging awkwardly over the scar on his throat. He doesn’t look like he’s washed or combed his hair in a couple of days.
He's looking dog tired again, his pallor almost gray. I make a mental note to check in with him later. He’s probably having another spate of bad nights.
"Dean," Leo says, "I'd like you to meet Emily, our new receptionist." Dean looks up, and his tired and drawn face instantly warms into a friendly smile, like the genial guy he is. He nods at her, and I'm genuinely stunned when she silently signs back, in American Sign Language, Nice to meet you.
Dean blinks, and basically melts, as does Leo. As do I.
Emily's gone bright red, hunching her shoulders and placing her hands in her back pockets, suddenly bashful about this really considerate thing she's done. She's won us all over now, not that she even needed to, but all the same...
You know ASL? Dean signs to her.
Her eyes widen. "Um... I'm sorry, I-I'm still only learning.
I looked up some key phrases last night," she explains sheepishly.
She signs again to demonstrate the extent of her knowledge.
"Please, thank you, good morning, tea or coffee.
.." She puts her hands down. "But I'll learn some more, I promise. "
Dean chuckles soundlessly. Thank you, I appreciate it.
"He says he appreciates it," I translate, trying hard not to grin like an idiot, pleased that she went to this effort for my cousin. She’s never even met him before this moment, and she still took the time to start learning how to communicate with him in anticipation, even though that meant a pretty heavy investment of her time and effort. That, to me, is a great human.
Dean quirks an eyebrow at me. Also, I’ve never seen that look on my cousin’s face before now. I’m pretty sure he’ll say yes if you want to ask him out?
Emily looks at me to translate, and I’m going to kick Dean’s ass later.
His eyes, always expressive, are alive with mischief, and I know from his amused cough that Leo got the gist, even though he's not as fluent as me.
Dean and I learned basic ASL in high school, and then became fluent as a project to focus on after he was shot, so he could talk to us all again.
The rest of the family did the same, and Leo and Sadie took courses, too.
"He says he hopes you have a good first day," I say firmly. Dean snorts quietly as he turns back to the coffee maker.
"Thank you," Emily responds, beaming at Dean, who returns the favor. I can think of about twenty reasons off the top of my head why this sudden crush of mine is entirely futile, and for some reason, it bothers me this time.
"Hadn't you better start training Emily now, Leo?" I grate out, and turn back to wash my mug up. Gotta put some distance between me and her, right this second.
Leo opens the door, entertained at my expense. "Right this way, milady," he says, grinning warmly at her and oozing easygoing charm that I simply don't have. I’ve seen Leo turn it on for people almost every day for years, and this is the very first time it’s made me grit my teeth in annoyance.
What. The. Fuck.
When they’ve gone, I turn and glare at Dean for a long moment. He shrugs and gives me a wide eyed, exaggeratedly innocent look in return, as if he can't begin to guess why I'm pissed at him. "Asshole," I mutter, and retreat away from his silent laughter to the safety of my studio.