Tracking the Tempest (Jane True #2)

Tracking the Tempest (Jane True #2) Page 3

“… so the good part is they can just hose me off at the station and I won't have to worry about showering. Get it? Hose me off? Since it's a fire station? Jane, are you listening?” Iris's syrupy French-toast voice finally interrupted my inner critique and I snapped to attention.

“I'm sorry, Iris. I'm here. And you're talking about hosing. Again.”

Right then, Amy came with our food and I managed to veer Iris toward more innocuous subjects as we ate. We talked about her boutique and some new stock she wanted me to try. When we were finally finished, I insisted on picking up the check, so she insisted on paying the tip.

“Should we head out to the Sty?” Iris asked when we were in the parking lot. I shuddered. Not because I didn't love the Pig Sty, our local bar that was owned by a pair of nahuals whom I adored. It was just that the Sty was also usually home to Stuart Gray, Jason's cousin and Rockabill's self-appointed made-for-TV bully. Stu hated me, and I hated him right back.

“Sorry, Iris, but I'm gonna pass. I don't want to deal with Stuart.” Not tonight, with my self-control just about shot. One word out of Stu's obnoxious mouth and I'd probably zap him with a lightning bolt. If I could zap lightning bolts, that is.

“How about a ride home?” she asked.

“Make it the beach and you got a deal.”

She nodded and we ambled over to her little pink hybrid. “I don't see your wet suit,” she said, casually, as we got in her car.

I ignored her as I buckled my seat belt.

“Are you just going to leave your clothes in the sand?” she asked, trying a different angle. “Don't they get dirty?”

I blinked at her, and she started up her car.

“I could hold them, you know. For you. Make sure they stay dry.”

I fiddled with her car's stereo.

“Just a little sex? Please?” Iris's voice was like caramel apples. I burst out laughing.

She laughed with me. “I'm sorry. I can't help it.”

“I know, Iris. I know,” I said, still giggling as I patted her hand affectionately. “But those lines do put the suck in ‘succubus'.”

CHAPTER TWO

After work the next day, I went home before going to train with Nell. The screen door on our little house creaked alarmingly when I opened it, and I made a mental note to oil the hinges. My key stuck, as usual, and I jiggled it the way I knew it liked to be jiggled until I was allowed inside. My dad was sitting in our little living room to the right of the door, watching poker.

“Hey, Dad!” I said, surreptitiously checking on his condition before I hung up my coat.

“Hey, honey,” he answered. He sounded, and looked, really tired.

“How you feeling? Can I get you anything?” I knew he'd hate that I fussed, but I couldn't help it. I was good at fussing.

“Oh, I'm fine. Just tired.”

I ignored him, walking over to give him a good once-over. Despite his obvious fatigue, he didn't look too bad, and whatever new medicine the doctor had prescribed seemed to be helping. He'd looked decidedly rosier recently, and he was sleeping better.

“Really, I'm fine. I just stayed up too late watching that stupid movie.”

I grinned at him. “I hope you didn't tell the guys you stayed awake to watch Steel Magnolias,” I chided.

He groaned. “Are you kidding me? I'd never hear the end of it. I'd have to go out and chop down a tree or change a tire to prove my masculinity. But I do love that damned movie,” he confessed finally.

“And that's why I love you, Dad,” I said, leaning down to kiss him on his stubbly cheek.

“I love you too, honey. And I don't want you to worry so much. I really feel good. That new treatment seems to be helping.”

“You do look better,” I said, as much to myself as to him.

He nodded, closing the subject. “So, what's for supper?”

“I thought I'd make that ginger fish and some rice and salad.”

“Sounds good, honey. And there might be something in the kitchen waiting for you.”

I narrowed my eyes. “What kind of something?”

“Oh, just something,” my dad answered casually.

Well, it couldn't be a naked vampire or my dad wouldn't be so calm. But I still crept into the kitchen warily, knowing my lover's penchant for taking the Hallmark holiday to a whole new level of gratuity. I was terrified fireworks would explode or the naked vampire would jump out of a massive cake.

My mouth started watering suddenly, although I wasn't sure if it was over the thought of Ryu naked or the idea of cake.

Mmmmm… cake…

My cake-and-sex fantasies were foiled, however, for neither lurked in my kitchen. Instead, there sat on our counter a perfectly normal bouquet of red roses. All right, there were a lot of roses—at least three dozen—but they were just roses. I checked to make sure the vase was a standard-issue florist vase and not diamond encrusted. It had taken Ryu a while to understand that I just wanted him, not his money. Where was I going to wear designer clothes or jewelry? In the Old Sow? So I was happy to see the roses, as he knew how much I loved flowers. Hopefully, Ryu would follow up his gift with a visit—Valentine's Day wasn't until tomorrow—but the roses were an excellent start…

… and quite a finish, I thought as I finally found the card attached to the flowers. Which was no card at all,

but an open-ended ticket to Boston. For the next day.

I giggled, just as the heavens cued our phone to ring.

“Hello?” I answered, knowing damned well who it was.

“Hey, baby,” purred out the voice that, no matter how familiar it had become, still sent shivers down my spine.

“You,” I said. “You…” I continued, unsure whether to thank him or just give in to temptation and lick the mouthpiece.

“Are amazing? Extraordinary? Sexy? Yours? I can continue—”

“Ryu,” I interrupted.

“Jane,” he breathed, as my womb did something involving a roundoff and jazz hands. “Do you like your gift?”

“The flowers are beautiful, babe. Thank you.”

“Not nearly as lovely as you, my sweet. But they aren't the real gift. Can you come?”

I smiled at how he drew out that last word, feeling my bosoms commence their familiar Ryu-related heaving. If I hadn't been excited to see him before, he'd just catapulted me to positively gleeful.

“Yeah, I can come. I'll still have to check with Grizzie and Tracy, but I'm sure it will be okay. The store is dead right now, with the holiday. I'll also have to make sure the boys check up on my dad. But that shouldn't be a problem. I'll just make a few calls and then I'm all yours.”

“All mine, baby?” he purred. “Because you know I'll take you up on that offer…”

I laughed. “Easy, killer. If you make me self-combust, I won't make it to Boston. But I am really excited to see you. I've missed you.”

“I've missed you, too, honey. I always miss you. I've talked to you about this…”

I fell silent. Ryu had been intimating we move our relationship up to the next level since the last time we saw each other. But I just didn't see how that was possible. So I handled the situation with my usual, very mature tactic of ignoring him completely.

“Well, you're lucky; you had good timing,” I said. “This is a perfect time to visit. But next time, you might want to check with me first. What if I had been busy?”

Ryu chortled his funny trademark laugh, and the lust in my belly spread through my limbs like Greek fire. “You're never too busy for me, baby. I know you.” Before I could protest that claim, he moved on. “And you're going to love it. I've got an amazing weekend planned. You'll never want to leave.”

“You always have amazing things planned,” I said gratefully. “You're Ryu.”

“And you're Jane. For Jane, I'll move mountains.”

I laughed. “I'll be happy with dinner, darling.”

“Then I'll just move your legs. Around my waist, while you're up against the wall and I'm standing. After I've removed every last stitch of your clothing…”

I blushed, as my nearly immortal beloved attempted to engage me in phone sex while I stood in my well-lit kitchen, my dad in the next room watching poker in his battered recliner.

“Ryu.” I gulped, my voice husky. “I'm in my kitchen—”

“Then you can spread yourself out on the table while you listen to me. You know what we like to do on tables—”

“Ryu,” I interrupted desperately. I couldn't take it. Maybe I had the bad ticker. “Tomorrow. I'll see you tomorrow. Then we can—”

“Yes.” It was his turn to interrupt me. “Then we can. And we will. I've missed you, Jane. It's been, what, two weeks?”

“Yes.”

“Too long. I hate missing you.”

“I do too, Ryu.”