Seventh Grave and No Body Page 69
I stilled and slammed my lids shut in mortification. I’d almost forgotten Reyes had torn into my apartment with nary a stitch on the other day. She came in right after and got the full monty.
I couldn’t help it. I referred back to one of my favorite movies: The Jerk. “Um, do you mean his special purpose?”
“No, I mean his cock.”
I dived forward and slammed my hand over her mouth. “You’re twelve! How do you even know that word? I didn’t even know that word when I was twelve. Well, no – actually, I’ve known that word since the day I was born, but I didn’t use it when I was twelve.”
Amber pursed her mouth and said from behind my hand, “I’m thirteen. I’ve been thirteen for a week.”
“Right, okay.” I let her go. “Well, from here on out, it’s called a special purpose, okay?”
“I’ve seen the movie. So is it?”
“Wow, um, I’d have to say not really. Reyes is a tad… well, larger than the average male.”
“Oh.” She deflated.
“But the anatomy is the same. I mean, they all have pretty much the same equipment.”
“Oh.” That seemed to make her happy.
I finally found my sweater and pulled it before sitting beside her. “Why, hon? What’s up?”
She shifted her mouth to one side of her gorgeous face. “It’s just I thought he was really nice. You know, to look at.”
Stifling a grin, I said, “I agree completely.”
Cookie walked in then, her brows raised in question. “What are you two talking about?”
“We’re talking about special purposes,” Amber said. “We’re talking about how Reyes has a spectacular special purpose.”
I closed my lids as Cookie walked up and put a hand on her shoulder.
“Honey,” she said, “we all have a special purpose. Some are just bigger than others. You’ll have your own special purpose someday.”
It took every ounce of control Amber had not to burst out laughing. Her face reddened with the effort as she stood, not sure how long she could hold it. “Thanks, Mom. I look forward to my own special purpose someday.”
I dropped my face into my hands as she walked out.
Cookie let out a long, exaggerated sigh. “The Jerk?”
“The Jerk.”
“Why do I fall for these things?”
“Because you’re you,” I said, giving her a sympathetic hug.
14
If I’m upset, hold me and tell me how beautiful I am.
If I growl, retreat to a safe distance and throw chocolate.
— BEST. ADVICE. EVER.
We enjoyed – enjoyed being relative – a quiet evening as Garrett told us stories about some of the conversations he’s had with Dr. von Holstein. Those were great. Clearly the man wasn’t nearly as stodgy as I’d imagined. The tension came from the two otherworldly beings in the room – minus Mr. Wong, since he didn’t seem to care about much of anything. Osh was very determined to stay put, to make sure I stayed safe despite the glares Reyes kept giving him. It didn’t help that Osh grinned every time Reyes glared. I was growing quite annoyed with the lot of them, if two could be considered a lot. It was kind of iffy, kind of like how two crows was only an attempted murder.
But we made it through dinner with nary a punch thrown or an eye blackened. It was another good evening. In other words, it made me nervous.
I walked into the bedroom after making Osh a bed on Sophie. Reyes was none too happy about our slumber party, but Osh was worried. He wanted to be here. To help in any way he could. And I had no problem letting him. Reyes would just have to deal.
When I stepped past the threshold of our room – our beds still butted up against each other, since he’d taken the wall separating our rooms out a couple of weeks ago – I was struck by the picture that met me. Reyes lay across both beds, propped up on several pillows, shirtless with only his dark lounge pants, his legs stretched out in front of him, his feet bare, a drink in one hand, and a book in the other. It was like one of those “at home” photos with models that looked like movie stars.
I almost came at the sight. It was the sexiest thing I’d ever seen. And I’d seen a lot of sexy lately. Would I ever get used to just having him? To just being able to look upon him and know he was mine? Know that I didn’t have to share him unless I got really kinky as I got older and decided to get into threesomes. But I couldn’t imagine ever wanting to share the man before me. I got jealous of his talking to a departed woman today. Granted, she was a gorgeous departed woman.
“Be still my Betty White,” I said softly.
“What?” he asked without looking up, one corner of his mouth lifting playfully.
I walked forward and stopped at the edge of the bed. “You. Reading. That is probably the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen a man do.”
His mouth widened and he finally looked up at me, closing the book in his hand and setting it aside. “Clearly you’ve never seen me pole dance.”
A bubble of laughter burst out before I could stop it. “I think you and your pole should keep your dancing private. It sounds like a very intimate act.”
“You’re probably right.” He let his gaze travel over me, and I wished I hadn’t chosen to sleep in the shirt that said FOR ENTERTAINMENT PURPOSES ONLY.
I snapped out of my trance and said, “By the way, I’m very angry with you.”