About a Vampire (13 page)

“We were going to order you something else to go, but then figured you wouldn't want to wait, and we
are
going shopping now anyway, so you can pick up whatever you want there,” Decker put in.

“Thanks,” Justin said sarcastically and popped a nacho into his mouth. He wasn't too upset though. Anders's comment about talking being a hungry business had reassured him that they had talked to Holly, and he supposed he owed them for doing that favor. That thought in mind, he popped the second nacho into his mouth, closed the box and then turned to peer at Holly. Unfortunately, she was peering silently out her window, her face turned away from him. He wasn't at all sure what that meant. Was she embarrassed and shy to be around him now that she knew she was his life mate?

It was more likely that she was anxious about the whole thing now, he decided as his gaze landed on her finger and the ring there. She would have to end her marriage, or at least tell her husband it was over before she would say or do anything with him, he realized. She was just that kind of woman. At least he suspected she was. The truth was, he didn't know much about Holly except that she was his life mate. Perhaps he should find out more about her while they had the chance. Once she explained things to her husband and was free to be with him, they would no doubt be spending all their free time in bed, and talking would be the last thing on their minds.

“So,” he said brightly, turning a bit in his seat to smile at her. “What made you want to work at a cemetery?”

Holly turned to peer at him with surprise, and then smiled wryly. “Money. Although I don't really work at the cemetery. At least, not as a permanent position. I actually work for a temp agency and they placed me there for the cemetery's tax season.”

“Oh. Right,” he murmured and thought that was good to know. Not that there was anything wrong with working at a cemetery but . . . Well, okay, he would be a little worried about anyone who picked it as their first choice in job options. Of course, nowadays, ­people took jobs where they could get them and he understood that.

“So . . .” He hesitated, unsure what to ask next. Did he dare ask how long she'd been married? That seemed an insensitive question to ask a woman you were stealing away from her husband.

“Here we are,” Decker announced, turning into the grocery store parking lot.

Justin let his breath out on a slow sigh and let go of the debate on what to ask next. He could think about it while they shopped and ask more questions later, he decided.

“Bricker.”

Justin closed his door and glanced to Anders in question as the man urged Holly around the SUV with a hand on her arm. Rather than walk her up to him though, he led her toward Decker as they reached the front of the vehicle and said, “You two go ahead. We'll be right behind you.”

“What's up?” Bricker asked when the man then turned to him, blocking him from following.

“We learned a bit about Holly in the restaurant,” Anders announced.

“Like what?” Justin asked curiously.

“Well, first off, she doesn't like questions,” he said with wry amusement. “I suspect it's because of her upbringing, but she's a very private person.”

Justin merely nodded at this news and supposed it was good that he hadn't asked too much then.

“Also, she loves fish, flowers, wine, puppies, kitties, picnics, documentaries, nature shows and anything to do with nature,” Anders added, and then slapped him on the shoulder. “We thought that information might help you out in the wooing department.”

“Yeah. Thanks,” Justin said with a grin. “Thanks a lot.”

“Just helping out a fellow Enforcer,” Anders said with a shrug, and then turned to follow Holly and Decker. Justin hurried after him.

 

Eight

H
olly surveyed the three carts the men were pushing. Each had insisted on grabbing one on the way in. She'd had no idea why at the time, but was beginning to understand. Dear Lord, they were in the last section, produce, and each cart was stacked to overflowing. It was like they were feeding an army instead of three men and two women.
They must have half the store in those carts between them
, Holly thought. She followed the men, slowing as she realized that they were heading for the checkout after doing nothing more than picking up a bag of potatoes each from produce. No lettuce, no broccoli, nothing at all healthy.

“I don't know if you guys know this, but a while ago they invented these things called fruits and vegetables,” she said conversationally. When the men all stopped walking and turned to stare at her blankly, she added, “I gather some guy named God came up with them at the beginning of time. You might like to give them a try.”

“Oh,” Justin said finally when the other two remained silent, their gazes shifting over the groceries in their carts. “Well . . . er . . . we're kind of meat and potato type guys. Potatoes are vegetables,” he added brightly and gestured to his cart as if to show that he'd collected all the vegetables they needed.

“So are broccoli, cauliflower and lettuce,” Holly pointed with amusement.

This time Justin and the other two men exchanged grimaces and glances, before Justin spoke for all three of them again, saying, “Yeah, not so much. I mean sure they
are
vegetables, but they aren't
real
vegetables if you know what I mean.”

“You mean they aren't manly type vegetables?” she asked, one eyebrow arching and her expression stern.

“Exactly,” he said seeming relieved that she understood. “Potatoes and jalapenos are manly type vegetables. Lettuce and that stuff . . . well . . . they're more rabbit food . . . don't you think?”

“No, I don't think,” she assured him and then added, “My James loves all the vegetables and fruits . . . and he seems pretty manly to me.”

For some reason Justin scowled at that and then muttered, “I bet he eats quiche too, huh?”

“Sure,” Holly answered as she snatched up a shopping basket from the end of the nearest checkout.

“Of course he does,” Justin said.

Noting the almost snide tone to his voice, she turned to peer at him curiously. “Is there something wrong with that?”

“Not a thing,” Anders assured her, turning his cart to head back toward the vegetables. “There's no need for the basket. There is still room in my cart.”

“Yeah, not much though, huh?” Holly said, eyeing his cart dubiously. If she fit more than a tomato onto that stack she'd be surprised. “I think I'll just hold on to the basket.”

“As you wish,” Anders said mildly, following when she headed back through produce.

“Y
ou do realize, Justin, that Holly didn't understand your reference to real men not eating quiche,” Decker said as he watched Justin turn his cart around. “She's too young to get it . . . or perhaps it is fairer to say that the reference, like yourself, is too old.”

“I'm not old,” Justin squawked, shocked at the very suggestion. He was the baby of the Enforcers. The young hip one to their grumpy old codgers. He was
not
old.

“You may not be old in comparison to us, but you're ancient in comparison to mortals. Old enough to be her great-­great grandfather, in fact,” Decker said with obvious enjoyment. “There is a definite generation gap between you two, sonny boy.”

Justin fell into step with Decker as he headed after Holly and Anders, but his mind was now racing as he absorbed the man's suggestion. Old? Him? He was the young hip one, the one who knew the ways of the world and the women in it. He wasn't old. Was he? Certainly there was no way he was old enough to be her great-­great grandfather, he assured himself and then frowned. Well, okay he was over a hundred while she was maybe twenty-­five. So maybe he was a good eighty years older, but . . .

“Damn, I'm an old man compared to her,” he muttered with dismay.

“A dirty old man too,” Decker informed him, and when Justin glanced to him with surprise, pointed out, “You can't look at her without imagining her naked and in some sexual position or other.” He shook his head. “It's a good thing she can't read your thoughts or she'd be slapping that smiling face of yours.”

Justin merely shook his head, feeling dazed. “I'm an old man.”

“Yes, you are,” Decker said cheerfully, then glanced at him sideways and said, “Ah, don't worry about it, Bricker. We all get there eventually. Well, unless we die,” he added dryly and then shrugged. “Better to be old than dead, huh?”

“But I've always been the young one.” Justin heard the whine in his voice, but too late to stop it.

“Yeah, well them's the breaks my friend. Get over it,” Decker said with a distinct lack of sympathy.

“W
hat did you do? Buy out the store?” Gia asked as she held the door open between the garage and kitchen and watched them cart in the first load of groceries.

“Don't look at me,” Holly said on a laugh as she stepped inside and set her bags down. “Most of this is down to the guys. Each of them filled a whole cart to overflowing on their own. It was almost embarrassing when we went to the checkout.”

Gia shook her head and glanced from Anders to Decker. “You won't even be here to eat any of it.”

“We were thinking of Dante and Tomasso,” Anders said with a shrug as he turned to head back out.

“Ah.” Gia nodded her head, and then arched an eyebrow at Justin. “And what's your excuse?”

“I was thinking of your cousins too,” Justin assured her. “Those two could put away an entire cow at one sitting . . . each. I'm lucky to get anything at all to eat when they're around. It seemed a good idea to pack in the food. That way Holly and I might at least get a sandwich or something here or there.”

“Si.” Gia grinned and then confided to Holly, “My cousins are big boys who like their food.”

“We can get the rest, Holly,” Justin said, stopping her when she started back out to the garage. “Why don't you start unpacking while we lug the bags in?”

Nodding, Holly turned to move back to the bags she'd set down and began to pull out and sort items. Gia immediately moved to help her. Neither of them knew the kitchen layout though, so it was slow going.

“You will like my cousins Tomasso and Dante,” Gia announced suddenly as they worked.

“Why is that?” Straightening from sticking half a dozen frozen pizzas in the freezer, Holly turned in time to see Justin scowling as he dumped a bunch of grocery bags on the counter.

Gia waited until he'd stomped out, then grinned and said, “I mostly said that to annoy Bricker. He is sometimes acting too big for his bitches.”

Holly blinked once and then gave her head a shake. “I think you mean he is growing too big for his britches.”

“Britches?” Gia stopped with a box of pasta in hand and eyed her uncertainly. “What is britches?”

“They're pants or slacks,” Holly explained.

“Why would he grow too big for his pants? We are immortal. We never gain weight,” she pointed out with a frown.

“No, well, it's just a saying. When someone gets conceited or puts on airs, they say they are getting too big for their britches.”

“Not bitches?” Gia asked with surprise.

“No,” Holly said gently, biting her lip to keep from laughing. She didn't want to make the woman feel bad.

“Oh.” Gia shrugged. “Okay then, yes, that is what I meant. These britches.” She pursed her lips. “It makes more sense than bitches anyway.”

“Yes,” Holly murmured as she moved back to the bags.

“But you really will like my cousins,” Gia announced. “They are both big, beautiful bad boys.”

“Bad boys? And you think I'll like them?” Holly asked with confusion.

“They are not really bad boys,” Gia assured her. “They just look like bad boys with their long hair and leather. Inside though, they are
dolce
.”

“
Dolce
?”

“Sweet,” Anders announced, carrying in more bags. “
Dolce
means ‘sweet.' ”

“
Si
, and Dante and Tomasso look big and
pauroso
—­scary, but inside they are as sweet as gelato.”

“Sure they are, big as bears and sweet as ice cream,” Decker said with a smile as he entered now as well. “Speaking of which, I just got the call, they will be landing in an hour. Anders and I won't be able to help put this stuff away after all. We have to head to the airport if we want a ride home.” He grimaced and added apologetically, “Otherwise we'll be waiting for at least a ­couple hours for the plane to come back for us.”

Holly nodded with understanding, recalling Gia explaining that the planes they used were apparently behind on pickups.

Decker glanced back out to the garage, where Bricker was loading himself up with more bags, and then turned back to Holly and murmured, “Remember what we said.”

“I will,” she assured him solemnly. She was to avoid being alone with Justin. That shouldn't be too hard with Gia and her cousins around, should it?

J
ustin stifled a yawn and shifted his gaze from the television screen to Holly. They were watching a nature show on lions. So far they'd watched them hunt, sleep, and have sex. It seemed to be all they did and while it was more interesting than his own life right then—­at least the sex part was—­it was boring as hell to watch. But Anders had said Holly liked nature shows so when they'd sat down with Gia to wait for Dante and Tomasso in front of the television, he'd spotted the show on the guide and put it on.

Gia had fallen asleep in her chair within the first three minutes of its starting and he was desperately struggling to stay awake himself. He hoped to hell that Holly was enjoying it at least, but it was hard to tell. She was lying on her side in front of the coffee table, her head pillowed on her arm, while he was sitting on the couch behind it. He couldn't see her expression.

Sighing, he picked up his glass, noticed that it was empty, and then picked up both it and the empty plate he'd set on the table and stood, but then paused to peer at the woman on the floor.

“Holly? Would you like a drink or anything while I'm in the kitchen?” Justin asked softly, not wanting to wake up Gia. Too softly, apparently: Holly didn't appear to hear him. Moving around the coffee table to get closer, he asked a little louder, “Would you like a coffee or something? I'm heading to the kitchen.”

Still no answer.

Frowning, Justin shifted around in front of her and then stilled. The woman was sound asleep. He'd been suffering the nature show for nothing. Cripes.

Shaking his head, he straightened and headed to the kitchen with his dirty dishes. Even hungrier when they'd finished unpacking the groceries than he had been at the restaurant, Justin had made himself four sandwiches to eat while they watched TV. He'd then pretty much inhaled the food and had considered going back for a ­couple more, but had decided against it. He didn't want to spoil his dinner and no doubt they'd be having that shortly after Dante and Tomasso arrived.

Justin rinsed the crumbs off of his plate and put it in the dishwasher. He then grabbed a glass, got some ice from the icemaker on the refrigerator door and grabbed a pop. He took the time to pour it slowly over the ice, to prevent too much foam, and then headed out of the kitchen and back up the hall to the living room, but froze in the doorway when he spotted the duffel bags on the floor inside the front door. Dante and Tomasso were here. But where?

His gaze slid to the empty stairs and he started forward again, only to pause once more when Dante came out of the living room with a sleeping Gia looking like a child against his massive chest. The tall, wide-shouldered Italian nodded at him solemnly as he started upstairs with Gia, no doubt intending to carry her up and put her in her bed.

Justin nodded back, and then started forward again, only to freeze when Tomasso came out of the living room carrying Holly in his arms. She was asleep, curled against his chest and nuzzling her head sleepily into the crook of his neck as if looking for somewhere soft on the massive man's hard body. Justin stared, noted the man's nod, and scowled in return, showing teeth.

“Which room?” the man asked, his voice a soft growl.

“End of the hall on the left,” Justin hissed, battling an incredibly strong urge to jump the huge bastard and beat him silly. He wanted to smash his stupid face and—­

The glass Justin held suddenly shattered in his hand, sending ice and soda splashing him in the face and chest. Tearing his gaze from a now-amused Tomasso, Justin glanced down to see the liquid dribbling down his legs to the floor. Sighing, he turned to head back into the kitchen in search of something to clean up the mess he'd made.

He'd just finished cleaning up the hall and was putting away the Swiffer in the broom closet when the kitchen door opened behind him and Dante and Tomasso entered. Closing the closet door, he turned reluctantly to face the duo.

“Food?” Tomasso grunted. He was a one word kind of guy, while Dante was more likely to string three or four words into a sentence.

“We just went shopping this afternoon. There's lots in the fridge, freezer, and cupboards. Help yourself,” he suggested and headed for the door. Now that the floor in the hall was clean, there was still himself to consider. He needed a quick shower to remove the sticky liquid that had seeped through his clothes to his skin, and a change of clothes would be good.

“Both girls were dead to the world,” Dante commented. “Neither even stirred when we picked them up.”