Chapter 8 Our First Guest
EIGHT
Our First Guest
“Oh, right.” I wiped the tears from my face. The secrets. “They’re kind of connected. You remember my boyfriend Declan, right?”
“Sure. Tall, good-looking werewolf who has hearts in his eyes when he looks at you,” Uncle John replied.
I grinned to myself. “That’s the one. The first secret is that he’s a magical null.”
I heard an intake of breath over the phone. “The Goddess found you your perfect mate.”
“She did. I can touch him, and I don’t see anything. A little seawater and my magic is reset.”
“I’m so happy for you,” he said.
“Thanks. He also allows me to sleep without nightmares, assuming he’s holding me.” It really was a miracle.
“Thank goodness.”
“I know. Anyway, I don’t think anyone other than Mom and Bracken know, but Declan built us a home over his workshop, right down the road from my gallery. Do you remember the old derelict arcade with the merry-go-round?”
“Sure. You kids loved that place when you were little.”
“Right. Well, he bought it. He’s an amazing woodworker. The ground floor is his workshop and showroom. The second floor is our new home.”
His voice lightened on a quick laugh. “You’re living together?
No one told me.” He paused. “Tell me the truth, Arwyn.” His voice had grown serious.
“Do you love him? Is he the one?” For most of my growing up years, Uncle John had been more of a dad to me than an uncle.
How quickly he’d slipped back into that role.
I curled up even tighter on the couch, like I was trying to protect the warm glow in my chest. “I love him very much.” I paused for a moment, remembering.
“I don’t know if you’ll recall, but we talked years ago about my life.
I told you I didn’t expect to live long.
Cassandras never do. I wasn’t happy, but I was content.
I had my art and my sea creature friends to keep me company. ”
I shook my head, still not believing it.
“Everything’s different now. I’m happy, Uncle John.
I have a life now I never thought was possible, one I never even dared to dream of because I knew I could never have it.
Now I have this incredibly kind and loving man bending over backwards to please me.
Mom and I are actually getting along. I’m getting to know my dad.
I have my own gallery. And, um, secret number two. I’m pregnant.”
I heard a quick intake of breath. “How do you feel about that?”
“I’m excited and scared. She’s always in the back of my thoughts—or the front of them. She’s part of this crazy life I never thought I could have. Part of me worries she’ll be another Cassandra. I mean, I think she’s unprecedented. Cassandras don’t live long enough to reproduce.”
“Who would know better how to raise her if she was?” he asked.
I grinned. “Yeah. I keep telling myself that. She’s also half werewolf. Declan is a Quinn, the origin line. She might shift into a cub in her crib. Declan didn’t start shifting until his adolescence, but she’ll also be part wicche and part fae, so who knows?
“I was hoping you could come check on her and see what you feel? Mom said her pregnancy with me was a normal nine months. Declan said natural wolves gestate for about two and a half months. We have no idea if this pregnancy will be shortened or not. We’re hoping if you could monitor me, we’d have a better idea of when she’s coming. ”
“I’d be honored to, honey.” He cleared his throat. “You keep saying her. Are you guessing or do you know?”
I snickered. “My dad is the one who told me I was pregnant and he referred to her as a girl. Today at the Council meeting, both Mom and Faith said girl, so we’re assuming girl.”
“Faith?” he asked. “Is little Faith on the Corey Council now?”
“She is.”
“Well, good for her and good for the Council. Faith and Frank are both wonderful kids. Okay, when would you like a visit?”
I thought about it and what I’d seen of Uncle John in that vision. “Are you busy now? We’ve been pretty nervous about the whole thing. And Declan went to pick up an Italian food feast. You can have dinner with us, then check on her progress.”
He hesitated, so I pushed a little. I hated thinking of him home alone grieving. “I don’t want to mess up your evening plans. Declan and I are freaking out over every little thing. We don’t want to impose, though, so whenever you can make it would be great.”
Declan walked through the door with two large bags.
“I’m not—yes. Okay. I’m on my way.”
“Thank you, Uncle John! We’ll see you soon.”
I disconnected and looked up at Declan. “I invited my Uncle John to have dinner with us.”
“So I heard.” He dropped the bags on the coffee table and sat on the edge of the couch beside me. Leaning down, he kissed me softly, reverently. “This life is as much of a surprise for me, as much of a blessing.”
“Were you eavesdropping?”
He kissed me again. “I didn’t mean to. When I came up the stairs, I heard you two talking. I didn’t want to interrupt, so I waited until you found a way to lift his spirits and get him out of his house.” He gestured to the bags. “And Lord knows, we have plenty of food.”
“It’ll cut into your leftovers.”
“I’ll survive.” He ran his hand over my hip. “You look so cute, all curled up on this too-big couch.” He glanced around. “We need to get you one of those soft blankets like you have on the couch in your studio.”
“I was just thinking the same thing.”
He pulled me forward, toward the edge of the cushion, then slid in behind me, wrapping his arms around me. “How are you feeling?”
I took off my gloves and turned to him, running a fingertip down his nose and over his lips. “I feel like we should fool around while we’re waiting for my uncle.”
Nipping at my finger, he said, “I feel like you always have the best ideas.” He rolled me over and sank into a kiss that had me losing my thoughts and the understanding of time.
When the knock echoed in the room, we broke apart, both of us breathing heavily. Declan’s hand was under my hoodie and my bra had mysteriously come undone.
“Shitshitshit,” I chanted, popping up and trying to fix my bra.
Declan untucked his shirt, and we looked for any telltale signs on each other of what we’d been up to.
“You look beautiful.” He gave me a quick kiss while finger combing my masses of curls out of my face for me. “I’ll get the door.”
While he did, I looked around to make sure we hadn’t left anything incriminating sitting around. We were both still clothed, so it seemed safe enough. I picked up my gloves from the floor and slipped them on.
“It’s hard to believe this is the same place we used to take the girls to ride the merry-go-round,” John said as he walked in.
I saw the moment pain overshadowed his memory. “That’s because Declan gutted and rebuilt it. The old building didn’t have a second floor.”
“The craftsmanship is extraordinary. My word, you really are quite gifted, aren’t you?”
“Thank you, sir,” Declan said. “I had some great people working on this with me as well.”
Looking thinner, his face more sunken, John studied the living room. “Can I have the tour?”
“Yes!” I patted Declan on the shoulder. “He’s going to give it because I need to use the facilities.
Be right back.” I went through our bedroom, through the closet, and into the bathroom.
After taking care of bodily functions, I tied my hair up in a messy bun and headed back out as Declan was bringing Uncle John into the bedroom.
“Look at that view,” John said. He turned to me, adding, “You’ve spelled the windows, right?”
I nodded.
“Good. There are too many creeps obsessed with you.” He glanced at Declan. “Nothing personal.”
Declan boomed a laugh.
“I don’t want you to end up having stalkers with binoculars trained on your windows.”
I grimaced. “Yeah, I don’t want that either.”
John moved closer to the bed. He glanced over his shoulder at Declan. “This is your work too?”
Declan nodded as I ducked under his arm and squeezed his middle.
“You’re brilliant,” I told him. “This is a work of art. I love it.”
He had the softest almost smile on his face as he looked down at me. “I’m glad.” He kissed me and I completely forgot where we were and who was with us until I heard a throat clear.
Face red, I hightailed it out of the bedroom, picking up the food bags and heading to the kitchen.
I knew Declan was still working on our dining table and chairs, so I sailed through the empty dining room and stopped in the kitchen doorway.
He’d added a bench and table to the corner of the kitchen, beside the window overlooking the ocean.
Perfect. I’d thought we were going to have to balance plates on our laps and eat on the couch.
We had a real table, like civilized folk.
I went to the cabinet and pulled out our new dishes.
I’d unboxed and washed them last night when he was meeting with the pack.
I wasn’t sure if he’d even seen them yet.
They were a beautiful white porcelain. Hand-painted wisteria branches with delicate lavender and white blossoms cascaded over the plate.
I’d found them in a fancy shop when I was living in England.
I’d had no hopes for a family, nor to host a dinner party, but I knew I had to buy the set when I saw them.
I’d had them shipped home and they’d been sitting in storage for over a year.
It made me unreasonably happy to put them on Declan’s table in our new home.
Declan and John walked in, discussing the underfloor heating in the bathrooms, of all things.
“You made us a breakfast nook.” I grinned up at him, wanting to squeeze him around the middle again.
“I did.” He kissed the top of my head. “And you got us beautiful new dishes. I’ve never seen anything like these.”
John picked up a plate and turned it over, giving a low whistle at the mark on the back. Were they ridiculously expensive? Yes. Yes, they were, but I’d sold some big pieces while I was in England and I was celebrating. Plus, I knew I needed to buy them.
I told the men about the shop where I’d found them and the irrational push to buy them.
“I’m glad you did,” Declan said. “They were made for this home.”
“There’s also a set of everyday, basic dishes, but I thought our first time hosting a dinner in our new home warranted the good stuff.
” With a quick spell to reheat the food, I laid out all our options, family style.
That way we could try a little of everything.
Uncle John and Declan dug in, but when I looked at all the open containers and smelled the mingling scent, I felt sick to my stomach.
Declan nudged the gnocchi toward me. When I ignored it, he put down his fork. “If that doesn’t sound good anymore, there are lots of other dishes to choose from.”
I shook my head. “I’m not hungry anymore.”
He looked stricken. “I can get you something else.” He started to get up, but Uncle John patted Declan’s shoulder.
“This is what it’s going to be like for a little while. Arwyn is healthy. There’s no reason to worry. Chances are this queasiness she’s feeling now will pass in ten minutes or a couple of hours, then she’ll be in here eating all the leftovers.”
Declan’s worried expression remained firmly intact. “Wolves need food. A lot of it.”
I reached over and squeezed Declan’s wrist. “I feel fine. The idea of food right now makes me sick. That’s all. I’ll eat later when this all seems more appetizing.” I nudged him. “Eat. I’m going to make myself some tea. Uncle John? Would you like some?”
He nodded as he took another bite of the lobster ravioli. Seeing him eat made me happy. His gaunt face told me he hadn’t been taking care of himself—understandably so.
“When you’re done, I have some fruit tartlets for dessert for you guys.” I puttered around, making the tea while they ate. I even opened a window so the ocean air could blow away the smell of the food. Being farther away was helping to settle my stomach.