Page 39 of The Bloodfeather Promise
An oversized series of built-in niches, complete with display lighting, takes up one entire wall in the hallway. I’ve never really paid attention to the art Holly selected for the house, but surely there is a vase we can utilize.
After telling her to put the flowers and the gift on the kitchen island, I grab Emerson by the hand and lead her to the display. A rather large, ornate vase occupies one of the softly lit squares.
Unconcerned that the space will now sit glaringly empty, front and center, I remove it from the niche.
“Here we go.”
Emerson laughs. “You’re joking, right?”
I frown. “What’s wrong with this one? It’s just a vase.”
With a shake of her head, she studies me as if trying to determine if I’m truly serious. “It’s not just a vase,” she replies patiently. “It’s a Lalique. You can’t use something so expensive for flowers.” Reaching past me, she traces the feathers of the birds sculpted into the crystal with her forefinger.
“I don’t care about that. We need a vase, right?”
“It’s a four-thousand-dollar vase. Meant for display, not to be used. But it is beautiful, isn’t it? Even if they are swallowtails and not finches.”
Turning the vase over in my hands, I study the frosted birds juxtaposed against clear crystal. “Swallowtails? I don’t follow.”
“The birds. They aren’t finches. I suppose finding things like this with finches on it would be difficult. My roommate from college has the same vase in her house, and I’ve always admired it. She explained once they are swallowtails. See? How long the feathers are? Finches are much shorter.”
I don’t even try hiding my smirk. “As a Finch, I’m offended by that. And, I promise you, nothing about me can be described as short. Other than my temper, maybe.”
“I was not insinuating you were lacking in any way. I’m well aware—” Emerson breaks off whatever she might have said, flushes bright pink, and bites her lip. When she continues, her words are far more cautious. “Did you not research it when you bought it?”
“The designer purchased it. I’ve never even noticed it before now. To be honest, I haven’t paid attention to any of the items she selected. But, regardless,” walking toward the kitchen with the vase held carelessly in hand, I leave Emerson to hurry after me, “we really should get these in water. The grouper won’t wait much longer. Even more important, the wine won’t wait. It’s perfectly chilled, and while I’ll skip dinner, I won’t skip that. Once you have a glass, you’ll be glad you didn’t miss it.”
“Okay… it’s your vase.” Emerson relents.
She unwraps the lilies while I fill the vase with water. We spend the next moments placing the flowers in a pleasing arrangement. Before we step through the French doors leading onto the terrace, I select a playlist on the sound system. As it begins playing from the outside speakers, Emerson glances at me, one dark eyebrow arching at my choice of music.
“Rat Pack?”
“Of course. The hard stuff comes later.” Internally, I wince at my own choice of words while indicating with a nod of my head for her to exit the house ahead of me. Admittedly, this is a rather devious ploy since it provides me the opportunity to admire her sexy little backside without her awareness.
If I could howl my appreciation like a wolf, and get away with it, I definitely would.
Once on the terrace, Emerson sets the gift she has for me on the table and moves the floral arrangement from The Shayla over to the built-in bar by the swimming pool. My vase and the lilies are beautiful in this setting. Almost as beautiful as she is. The dappled shade of the white bougainvillea draped arbor creates mysterious shadows in those endlessly blue eyes of hers.
“Let me get your chair.” I wait until she’s settled before I serve dinner. A little smile plays on her features while I portion out the grouper and the Greek salad onto delicate white china plates with gold scrollwork. After uncorking the wine and pouring us each a glass, I finally take the seat across from her.
Shit, I’m nervous. I believe the last time I consciously utilized manners like this, I was seventeen and it was the night of senior prom.
Bristol Sloan was my date that year. She and Jett had been dating for three months, but they broke it off by mutual agreement right before prom. Bristol had no intention of missing either the opportunity to wear the dress she’d chosen or the last major event of high school other than our graduation. Bristol’s parents and mine have been friends for years, and while we’ve known each other from the time we were age nine or so, we’ve never shared romantic feelings. We are simply friends, in the casual way kids become when the adults toss them together. Escorting her to prom was like taking my sister, if I’d ever had one.
Tilting her head, Emerson gazes at me so quizzically, I feel laughter bubbling inside my chest.Manners.They still lurk inside me. Who knew a girl like her could pull them out? If my folks ever meet her, they’ll fall head over heels in love.
“Are you okay?”
Her soft question is a bolt of lightning, striking me with acute consciousness. The past two months, I’ve barely thought of Alex’s death and it’s approaching anniversary. I’ve not thought about my drug use and how much I miss it. I’ve not wanted my daily dose of weed, and hell, I’m not even drinking as much as I normally do. Emerson distracts me from the ugliness in my life, the pain I’ve held inside for so long. I feel lighter with her around, and I’ll treasure every moment she gives me until the moment we part ways.
Damn, I don’t even want to think about when we will say goodbye.
That day, I remind myself, is far off in the future. She’s here now. With me. And I’m determined to enjoy that fact.
My smile is honest and not an imitation of its former self. It’s been a long time since I felt this way.
Happy. Content. Energized.
I look out over the horizon, far off into the distance where the green of the sea inevitably melts into the bright blue of the sky. Pretty soon, it will be the darkest of blues, nearly black. Before that happens, the sun must make its glorious exit, and tonight’s sunset should be spectacular. It will also be the first I’ve actually watched and admired. As the sun sinks in a blaze of gold, peach, and lavender, and the stars begin peeking out as if too shy to make an appearance, Emerson will be standing there with me, sharing the beauty.
My gaze swings back, catching her staring at me. The look on her face makes me think she’s heard every single one of my inner thoughts and is as surprised by them as I am.
Are you okay? she asked me.For the first time in a long, long time, I can answer truthfully.
“Yeah…” My grin widens. “I think I’m gonna be.”
