Arcanum (Tales from the Tarot)

15. Greyson

Chapter fifteen

Greyson

S leep had been impossible after Chris left. Worrying about his safety was the primary culprit, plus the fact that my insides had been twisted into knots from all the kissing. I could have alleviated one of those problems myself, but I channeled my efforts into baking instead.

By the time the sun rose, I had three different types of cookies, brownies, and a coffee cake.

Deciding I had enough in terms of baked goods, I started in on a quiche. I got the feeling Chris would be hungry when he finally made it back and eggs were easy to eat before bed without worrying about them being too heavy or causing other digestive issues.

It was nearly time to pull the quiche out of the oven when my intuition told me Chris was home. I ran upstairs to splash cold water on my face and rake my fingers through my hair before changing my shirt in the hope that he wouldn’t realize I’d been up all night.

Hurrying back down the stairs, I went to the front door right as he jogged up the steps. He was still wearing the same jeans and t-shirt. From the odd lines and creases on his clothes, it looked like he’d thrown his police gear on top rather than change.

His smile rivaled the sun when I opened the front door, all white teeth and dimples as I’d once fantasized about. I had to use my rapidly waning self-control to not throw my arms around him and kiss him soundly, relieved he’d made it through whatever ordeal required him and his partner so late at night.

“Something smells good,” Chris said as he came into the foyer.

“I thought you might be hungry.” I turned and hurried back to the oven to rescue my quiche before it overcooked.

His footsteps followed me into the kitchen, along with a chuckle. “You didn’t sleep, did you?”

“No, no I didn’t.” I looked sheepishly at all the baked goods scattered around on various cooling racks. I couldn’t even lie and say they were from the day before. The coffee cake was literally still steaming.

“No more of those orange chocolate chip muffins, huh?” he asked, helping himself to a frosted brownie, complete with celestial-shaped sprinkles.

“You mean the pumpkin chocolate chip?” I shook my head and gestured to one of the cooling racks. “But those are pumpkin snickerdoodles.”

“That was a pumpkin muffin?”

“Is that a problem?”

“No. Just never liked pumpkin before. I always thought it was slimy.”

I made a face at him, retrieving plates from the cupboard and carrying them over to where the quiche was resting on the stovetop. “I’m not sure what kind of pumpkins you were eating, but I try to leave the slime out of mine.”

“At this point, if you make it, I’ll eat it,” he said, settling into a kitchen chair with a weary sigh.

“I’m glad you said that because I wasn’t sure what kind of vegetables you liked. I went with some onion, red pepper, and zucchini. There’s also some ham and gruyere. I don’t have any coffee ready, but I can make some, if you want. Or I have a dandelion and chicory blend that tastes like coffee and it doesn’t have any caffeine. What would you—” A plate in each hand, I turned to face him, stopping in my tracks.

While I was plating the quiche, Chris had slumped backward in the chair, his head resting against the wall. He was asleep, or very close to it, his breathing deepening by the moment.

My heart seized at the sight of him. I could only imagine how tired he was. Between working so much and the daily adrenaline crashes, he was going to send himself to an early grave if he wasn’t careful. Not to mention all of the coffee…

Returning the sliced pieces of quiche to the skillet, I put the whole thing in the fridge and walked over to Chris. Stroking his cheek, I couldn’t help but smile when he leaned into my hand.

“Come with me,” I said quietly, running my hand down to his shoulder and giving it a gentle squeeze.

His dark eyes cracked open.

“Let’s get you to bed.”

Nodding, he let me pull him to his feet. Once he was vertical, he stumbled but caught himself against the fridge, putting a hand out to keep me back when I rushed forward to help.

“I got it,” he mumbled. Trudging toward the front door without any assistance, he took a sharp turn in the foyer and went up the stairs instead of outside, as I’d intended.

“Chris? That’s not what I—” I trailed after him, but he didn’t seem to hear me—or care.

Apparently on autopilot, Chris walked into my room and kicked off his boots before face-planting on the bed. I couldn’t exactly blame him. Aside from the fact the Tudor cottages lining the street all looked alike, with more or less the same floor plan, we were in his grandmother’s house. Rather than an attempt to restart anything from earlier, I guessed an old muscle memory had been activated and exhaustion simply took over.

Since he was lying on the comforter, I grabbed an extra blanket from the closet and draped it over him. Before I could retreat to the couch, he grabbed my hand.

“Stay,” he murmured.

“You need sleep.”

“So do you.” As much as I may have liked to think I was invincible, he had a point.

Crawling into bed next to him, I was still surprised when he lifted his arm in a clear sign of where he wanted me to be. I scooted closer and laid down on my side, facing away from him. He shifted forward to close the distance, draping his arm and the blanket over me, and pulled me back against his chest like a human teddy bear. Nuzzling into the back of my neck, he let out a contented sigh and I felt the tension he carried in his shoulders begin to loosen.

For the first time in over two years, I slept like the dead.

The peace didn’t last.

Blissful slumber turned to a sense of panic. Something unseen weighed me down, pushing against my chest, making it hard to breathe.

I thrashed in the dark, trying to rid myself of whatever—or whoever—it was.

Selene squeaked in surprise and the weight disappeared from my chest.

The light next to the bed flicked on and Chris reached for me with wide, bleary eyes. “You ok?”

“Yeah.” I flopped back into the pillow, trying to slow my breathing and remind myself I wasn’t in any danger. “The cat scared me. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“That’s ok.” He angled his watch for a better look and swore under his breath. “It’s after five already.”

“Are you supposed to work tonight?”

“Yeah, plus I was supposed to meet Luke at the gym.” He patted his pockets and then the bed, clearly searching for something. “I don’t know where my phone is.”

“I think it’s in the kitchen.”

“K.” Even after he knew where it was, he didn’t try to get out of bed. Instead, he laid down on his side and scrunched a pillow under his head, looking at me expectantly. A rush of nervousness swept through me while we waited for each other to address what happened the night before.

“Don’t you have to get going?” I asked, even though I didn’t want him to leave.

“Not yet.”

“What about the gym?”

“Not enough time. Besides, I’d rather stay here and talk to you until I have to go.”

Another flutter of nerves danced through my stomach, mine and his. “What do you want to talk about?”

“You know what I want to talk about.” He blinked once, his dark eyes warm but serious.

“ You kissed me ,” I reminded him quietly.

“Should I have not kissed you?”

“That depends on you.”

His hand slid across the mattress toward me, cresting over my chest and up to caress my cheek. “I’m not going to lie—I don’t have any idea what I’m doing. I don’t know what any of this means. All I know is it’s taking everything in me not to kiss you again.”

The nerves melted to lust. The way he looked at me, the warmth of his hand on my face, was obliterating my attempt at keeping a level head. It didn’t help that he radiated so much desire, ratcheting up my lust to another level. He was sending my hormones into overdrive just by breathing in my direction. What would happen if we were both naked? A shiver raced down my spine in anticipation.

“Are you waiting for permission? Or do you want to sort out labels and whatnot?”

“Both.” He shook his head almost immediately. “No… permission. I don’t give a fuck about labels.”

“Then stop questioning yourself and kiss me.”

He lunged across the space, one hand tangled in my hair as his lips crashed against mine. The solid weight of Chris’s body on top of me, the way he pulled me closer, was enough to make me moan. Feeling how much he wanted me magnified my lust until I was grinding and rutting against him like I was in heat, as desperate to feel him as I had been the night before.

But as much as I wanted him to fuck me until we both collapsed from exhaustion, trembling and breathless in each other’s arms, some things needed to happen first. Necessary, hygienic things to make sure our first time was everything he hoped it would be. Not to mention the utterly inconvenient fact that he had to work in less than thirty minutes.

With that unhappy thought in my head, I couldn’t even risk his shirt coming off. I didn’t trust my self-control, not while I had his energy flooding my veins, on the verge of turning me feral.

Then he hitched his knee between my thighs, giving me something new to rub my aching dick against while he thrust his hard-on against my leg.

“I want you,” Chris groaned against my lips. “Right now.”

“I want that too.”

“So what do we do?” He kissed my throat, pulling my shirt collar to the side and pressing hungry kisses along my clavicle.

“We… wait.” I squeezed my eyes shut and swallowed hard, the joint disappointment spiraling through me, cooling some of the lust.

“Wait for what?” he asked, running his hand under my shirt and along my ribs. His teeth grazed my neck and I whimpered, trying to think of a suitable excuse and not how much I wanted him to actually bite me and leave marks all over my skin.

“The new moon?” I offered. Not that I wanted him to go back on his feelings, but it would give him time to figure things out for himself and not rush into anything he wouldn’t ultimately be comfortable with.

“How far is that?”

“Two weeks.”

“I don’t think I can wait that long. I don’t want to wait that long. Unless you do,” he added quickly.

“No. But I don’t want to pressure you.”

He chuckled and took my hand, plastering it against his hard-on. “Not a problem.”

“What about Wednesday?” Since he was new to being with a guy, there was no reason to freak him out with the grosser details, like how much preparation went into my routine before he went anywhere near my ass. Shit happens, as they say, but it wasn’t going to happen for our first time. Maybe ten years from now, but not while there was still an air of mystery to the relationship.

He groaned as he dropped his head, burying his face into the side of my neck. Initially, I was a bit worried, but the feeling evaporated once his emotions went from disappointment to acceptance. He inhaled, slowly, and exhaled even slower, enjoying the scent in the crook of my neck while locking down his raging lust.

Meeting my gaze again, he looked hopeful, struck by a sudden thought. “Wednesday as in tomorrow or Wednesday as in next week?”

“Oh, I suppose it is tomorrow.” I still couldn’t believe we’d slept the day away, though it was clear we’d both needed it. Thankfully Tuesday was one of the days Arcanum was closed, so I didn’t upset my non-existent customer base with a spontaneous closing. I didn’t know how shift workers kept their days straight. I could barely do it as an insomniac with a “normal” job.

“Tomorrow then?” His dark gaze brimmed with anticipation and nerves in equal measure.

“Tomorrow. Unless you change your mind. I don’t want to rush it,” I said, caressing his cheek and the scratch of his five o’clock shadow. “It’s not something we should rush. At least not the first time. Besides… you officially have ten minutes to get ready, officer.”

He checked his watch again and made a face. “Damn it.”

“I made a quiche, by the way. I can wrap some up to go. That way you don’t have to worry about lunch while you’re getting ready.”

“I appreciate it.” He smiled softly and brushed his lips to mine. A flutter of uncertainty shot through him as he pulled back just as fast.

“What’s wrong?”

My question seemed to surprise him and his eyebrows lifted questioningly. “Nothing. Why?”

“It’s like you’re hesitating all of a sudden.”

His eyes flicked to the far side of the room and a wave of heat rolled through him, tinging his cheeks pink. “Sorry.”

“Chris, if you’re not ready—for anything —we don’t have to—”

“No!” His gaze snapped back to mine, his dark eyes wide. “No. It’s not that. I didn’t want you to think I was rushing you . I mean, you said you’d pack me a lunch and instead of just saying ‘Thank you,’ I kissed you. I didn’t know if that was too fast or familiar or if you—”

I leaned forward and pressed my lips to his, silencing his doubt.

After a moment, he pulled back with a grin. “Ok then. We’re on the same page.”

“Looks like it. Now you go get ready and I’ll bring the food.”

Glancing down at his watch, he swore and scrambled to crawl off the bed. He took the stairs two at a time and ran out the front door. If it had been a hookup, I’d be more than a little insulted. Since he had a legitimate reason, I just laughed and shook my head, making my way downstairs at a slower pace.

In his mad dash out the door, Chris had left his cell phone on the kitchen table. I pocketed it and then set about packing him the lunch to end all lunches. Quiche, obviously, pumpkin snickerdoodles, and a slice of the coffee cake. While the actual coffee steeped in the French press, I threw together a green salad and mixed up a lemon and herb balsamic vinaigrette dressing, packing everything in a canvas tote. Pouring his coffee into a tumbler, I whispered a spell to bring him a good night at work, added a dash of cinnamon, and sealed the lid.

Carrying everything outside, I emerged on the front porch at the same time as Chris, precisely at six o’clock.

He locked the door behind himself and Nitro, both of them outfitted and equipped for another night on the mean streets of Mapleton.

“You’re not in trouble, are you? For not being at the PD yet?” I held his phone out to him after he put Nitro in the back of the Tahoe.

“Perk of the job. You’re not late as long as you call on duty before the start of shift.”

“Isn’t that under the presumption that you’re dressed and ready to go?”

“Details.” He grinned and took the canvas bag from me, peering inside with raised brows. “Man, you went all out. Thank you.”

I shrugged, downplaying the swell of pride in my chest. “Food’s important. Especially if you’re skipping breakfast, or whatever you would call the meal you eat before work.”

“It was worth it.”

“And I know you need this,” I said, holding out the tumbler to him instead of floating away with happiness.

“You’re a lifesaver.” He smiled and closed his fingers around mine. Leaning in for a kiss, he stopped abruptly, his gaze shifting over my shoulder. I recognized the look. He was listening to his radio.

After a moment, he cupped his mic and answered, “K91 en route,” before giving me an apologetic wince.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” I said brightly, letting him off the hook Monica had apparently skewered him on. The guilt he felt about working was no doubt related to her and their fights. There was no way I would follow suit. How could I? We weren’t technically in a relationship. Even if we were, I knew how important his job was. “Be careful.”

“Always.” He shifted his grip on the canvas bag, glancing around the neighborhood. A wave of disappointment hit him hard. The family on the other side of me had just pulled into their driveway. No longer alone, he gave me a shy, parting smile instead of a kiss and walked around to the driver’s side of his squad.

I waited outside, watching him drive away until his Tahoe was out of view. Shivering in the chill night air, I folded my arms over my chest and looked around the neighborhood as well. Most houses had started assembling piles of pumpkins and cornstalks on their porches, with the daring few already setting up Halloween decorations. Life was quiet and peaceful on Spicewood Lane, a vignette of a picturesque small town, all snug and cozy on an autumn night. And now things with Chris had taken a wonderful turn, as my vision said they would, adding another layer to the blissful calm that had finally taken root inside of me.

I couldn’t ignore the warning in the cards, though. No matter how tranquil things were on the surface, danger lurked somewhere in the dark.

That unsettled feeling drove me into the house as fast as my feet could carry me, like the unseen monsters that used to chase me down dark hallways as a child. I locked the doors behind me as quickly as I could and drew the curtains tight, hoping to preserve my serenity a little longer.