Authors: J.L. Weil
Two things happened on Fourth of July. My father texted me to wish me a “Happy 4
th
.”
A month
. I’d been here a freaking month and that was all he had to say. So personal. Father of the year.
And Zoe invited me over to her house for Sunday dinner.
It would be the first time since Zane had been given the boot that I would see him face-to-face. He had vanished the last five days.
Poof
. Just gone. He was making himself scarce on purpose. For whatever reason, he’d reneged on giving me the answers I desperately wanted.
A splash of sunlight streamed across my bedroom floors, and my iPod was blaring as I wiggled into a pair white jean shorts. With one hand behind my head and another out in front of me, I attempted what was supposed to be the sprinkler. A dance move that I only performed behind closed doors. It was a pathetic attempt, but I didn’t care. This was the first time in a week, more like a year, I had done something silly, just for fun. The sprinkler wasn’t the only poorly executed dance I butchered. There also was the dougie, and my personal favorite, the wobble.
A shred of the giddiness I was feeling was partly because I would see Zane, a dangerous feeling when it came to him.
There was a laugh that sounded behind me over the music, just barely audible. I might not have heard it if it also hadn’t been accompanied by tingles skipping over my skin. I glanced in the mirror and saw my worst nightmare and my dream come true.
Zane.
Thank God I had a shirt on. Whipping around, my eyes narrowed. “What the hell are you doing here?” I squeaked, cheeks flaming. My eyes gobbled him up from top to bottom, convinced his entire wardrobe was jeans and black shirts.
He had the stupidest grin on his face. “Don’t let me stop you.”
I awarded him the stink eye. “Don’t make me slam the door in your face.” Grabbing the iPod, I cut off Panic at the Disco in the middle of “Ballad of Mona Lisa.” It was one of my favorites.
God. How long had he been there?
He leaned a shoulder on the doorframe, enjoying the show. “Her Majesty let me in.”
My face shot up. “What?” The iPod slipped from my fingers, crashing to the floor. “Shit,” I muttered, bending down and examining the cracked screen. There went my tunes, and my sanity.
“Nice job, butterfingers.”
“Why would she do that?” I asked, pushing to my feet and dumping the useless device back on the dresser. “She had made it very clear that I was not to have anything to do with you. That woman has no scruples.” She was messing with my head.
Picking up one of my perfume bottles, he took a sniff. “Trust me, I wouldn’t be allowed to step a pinky toe in this room if Zander wasn’t involved.”
I blinked. How the…? I hadn’t even seen him move. “What does your brother have to do with anything?” Bringing up Zander only scrambled my thought process.
There were shadows lurking in his eyes as he set the glass bottle back. “Everything.”
Geez. It had only been one date.
Questions. Too many of them. And I knew there would be a time and a place to bombard him, but not here. Not in this house. But I could call him out. “I can’t believe you ran out on me, and I’m pretty sure you left your balls behind.”
A wicked grin slipped over his full lips as he slid his hands into his pockets. “Someone ate their bitchflakes for breakfast.”
“Coward.”
“Brat.”
“Zaney.”
“Cute and unoriginal.” His eyes gave me an all too slow once over. “Now that we got that out of the way, you ready?”
A flush crept over my body. “Now?” I skimmed the room, positive I was forgetting something. Shoes? Bra? My head?
“Yeah. Unless of course you’re scared to be alone with me,” he challenged.
Please. I was more afraid I might assault him with my mouth; I’d already insulted his manhood. “Well, what are we waiting for?”
His lips twitched. “After you, Princess.”
“Oh, you owe me a new iPod,” I said, grabbing my bag.
He chuckled. “You would try to blame that on me.”
Shaking my head, I grabbed my cross-body bag and strolled out the door. I didn’t need to look over my shoulder to know Zane was following me. My entire body was ultra aware of him. Passing through the gardens, I rounded the corner of the driveway, my eyes looking left and right. “Where’s your car? Please tell me you didn’t walk here.”
“Hilarious.” He sauntered to the other side of my jeep and straddled a motorcycle, one of those fast doodad. “Hop on,” he instructed, holding out a helmet.
Good God. He looked like total crush material, the epitome of a bad boy. I could work with that.
No. No. No.
You are not crushing on Zane Hunter. Not now. Not ever.
The little “save me Jesus” pep talk did nothing to dissuade my body. Looking at him gave me the warm fuzzies.
Someone fan me now, because it
’
s getting hot up in here.
Fitting the helmet to my head, I secured the strap around my chin. It was then I came to the realization that I had to touch him. I had to more than touch him. I had to plaster my body against him like we were one.
Too much time had passed as I stood there gnawing on my lip.
He raised a brow. “First time?” The way he said the words made it sound like he was talking about my virginity.
Tipping my chin, I stuck my foot on the pedal and hoisted myself over. A quick jolt of static passed as my hands brushed around his waist. My thighs hugged his, and it took all my willpower to not sigh. I hadn’t expected a motorcycle ride to be so…erotic.
His head turned to the side, bringing our faces mere inches apart. “Don’t let go.”
I swallowed, tightening my arm. His silent laugh rumbled under my death hold as the bike rolled forward. There was something to be said about riding on the back of a bike, the wind blowing over my face. I could do without picking the gnats from my teeth, but overall, it was an experience I wasn’t likely to forget.
But that had more to do with the guy than the ride itself.
He pulled up to a modest ranch-style house in a soft, sunny yellow. It was bright and cheery. I had a difficult time picturing the scowling Zane living here. Well-tended flowerbeds grew under the windowsills and in giant barrel pots. A brick pathway led to a screened-in porch. There was a driveway filled with cars, but they were no obstacles for Zane’s bike.
Warm and inviting. They were the first things that came to mind when I followed Zane inside. A wave of apples and spice scented the air. I was more comfortable here after five minutes than I had been at Raven Manor in six weeks. Eyes wide, I took in the lower level. The house wasn’t cluttered, nor was it bare like the manor, but lived in. Family photos lined the walls and the stone fireplace mantel. The carpet was clean, but worn from the goings and comings of a large family. A cat lazily slept on the back of an oversized chaise lounge.
I don’t know what I expected a house of reapers to look like, but this was not it. This was normal. No creepy stairs. No dusty corners or giant cobwebs. No death chill in the air.
Zoe strutted down the hall with a sinister grin on her cherry lips. The color popped against her midnight hair and pearl white skin. “You’re still in one piece. Glad to see Zane kept his word.” She draped an arm around my shoulder, leading me the way she had come.
“Me too.” I still found it impossible to Zoe her as a reaper. Sure, she had a bad girl streak, but so did I. It was the black crow that flashed on the inside of her wrist that made it real.
“Mum is dying to meet you.” She acted like nothing awkward had happened, so I could only assume Zane had told no one what he had revealed.
I kind of wished he had. I didn’t trust my big mouth not to slip up. And plus then I would have someone else to interrogate and reinforce the truth—a truth my mind was still balking at. I had spent the last week poking holes in Zane’s story, unable to accept that the world was as black and white as I was raised to believe.
Now I was meeting the parents. Not just any ordinary parents. The Grim Reaper and his wife. Dun. Dun. Duuun!
My palms suddenly started to sweat. Holy fudge cake the size of my butt. What was I doing? But before I could overthink it, a woman with raven hair and dazzling blue eyes appeared around the corner. She was the same height as her mini-me daughter with a face makeup free, but she didn’t need it. I stood frozen like a deer in headlights.
She put her hands on my cheeks, placing a kiss on each one. “It’s nice to meet you, darling.”
My nerves were getting the best of me, my smile wavering. “Thank you for having me, Mrs. Hunter.”
“Call me Ivy.” She had more of a lilt to her tone than her children, and she smelled like jasmine. It was a calming scent. “You’re a gorgeous one, aren’t you? No wonder my boys are taken.”
I turned an ungodly shade of hot pink. “Not all of them.” My eyes drifted to a frowning Zane.
Her bracelets chimed as she waved a hand in the air, smiling fondly. “Don’t let his rough exterior fool you. Zane has the most heart out of the four.”
“Ma,” Zane complained.
She ignored him, looping an arm through mine, a gesture that reminded me of Zoe. She was the spitting image of her mom in both looks and mannerisms. Tiny crows feet appeared at the corners of Mrs. Hunter’s smile. “I hope you’re hungry.”
“Starved. I haven’t had a decent meal since—” I stopped myself, unable to believe I had been about to mention my mom. There was something about Mrs. Hunter that made me forget the wall I kept up.
“Are you telling me they aren’t feeding you up at the big house?”
“It’s too rich for my taste.”
She laughed, hearty and light. “I bet Rose is in seventh heaven with you finally home. She might not show it, but that woman thrives on strife and scandal.”
I kept my face blank.
Home?
I didn’t want to read too much into what was probably an offhanded comment, but Raven Hallow was not my home, and saying so out loud, when they had graciously invited me into theirs just seemed rude. Strife and scandal, huh? Those were two things I could definitely deliver.
I lost track of Zane as his mom led me to the back of the house. Out of sight, out of mind. However, it wasn’t working. If anything, being in his home, I felt closer to him. Zoe was on the other side of her mom. As inconspicuously as I was capable, I checked out Mrs. Hunter’s wrists, searching for any sign of a mark.
None.
She was human?
Color me shocked.
Outside in the backyard, it smelled of barbeque chicken and baked beans, all the things I loved about summer. There was sun tea brewing in the heat on a brick paved patio.
Zander and Zach were seated at a wooden patio table large enough to feed an army, but I guess their family was like a small army. Zach tossed me a shit-eating grin like he had just pulled the prank of the century. And Zander…
This was the first time we’d seen each other since our date. Other than a few texts back and forth, we had made no plans to go out again. He smiled sweetly at me, and I returned his grin.
At the head of the table was a man with dark hair that had a dusting of white at his temples that carried into his trimmed beard.
I stopped breathing. This was Death. I was in the presence of the freaking Grim Reaper.
Gulp.
A chill flitted down my back. No surprise. He was the kind of guy I’d expect to put the fear of God into a person.
Play it cool. Don’t embarrass yourself, Piper.
A near-impossible task when he just stared at me. I squirmed under his silver-eyed gaze, wondering if I had a booger hanging from my nose. Ay caramba. That would only happen to me.
“The resemblance is startling,” he said in a deep timber that rumbled his chest. He was a big, burly man, reminding me of a teddy bear. “You’ll have to forgive me. I wasn’t prepared for you to look just like her.”
He’d known my mom, that was evident, but the shock and fondness in his expression said he’d known her well. It was the first, and probably not the last, time I’d been told how much I looked like her. Still, it was a spike to the heart, a fresh, painful reminder that she was gone.
“It’s a compliment.” He scratched the end of his chin, eyeing me thoughtfully. “Tell me you brought an appetite. I am about to show these boys the art of grilling.”
A uniform snicker rolled around the table. “Dad, seriously, you’re only embarrassing yourself,” Zach said, grinning.
He winked at me. “Pay no attention to my ungrateful son. Actually, it is probably wise to stay away from them all. Zoe is the only angel in the lot.”
That brought on a new set of snorts.
Zoe beamed.
Zach placed his elbows on the table, steepling his hands together. “Dad is delusional.”
Silver eyes dancing, he said, “I doubt Piper wants to listen to our family drama.”
I cleared my throat. “Actually…” I did. Very much so.
Mr. Hunter grinned. “I like this girl.”