Onyx

Chapter 16

As expected, I spent the better part of Thanksgiving poking around the house alone. Mom really got shafted, pulling a double shift that took her out of the house from around noon Thursday until noon on Friday.

I could’ve gone next door. Both Dee and Daemon had invited me, but it didn’t feel right busting up their alien Thanksgiving. And from the amount of creepy peeping I was doing from my window every time I heard a car door close outside, I knew everyone showing up was secretly an ET. Even Ash arrived with her brothers, looking like she was going to a funeral rather than a dinner party.

Part of me didn’t like that she was there. Yeah, I was jealous. Stupid.

But I’d made the right call by not going.

I was an anxious wreck. Today alone, I’d tipped over the coffee table, shattered three glasses, and blew a lightbulb. Being with people probably wasn’t a good idea, but it would’ve been nice to lose myself in the holiday festivities for a little while. The only good thing was the fact my head didn’t feel like it was being ripped apart after the shenanigans.

Around six in the evening, I felt that now-oh-so-familiar tingle on the back of my neck right before Daemon knocked. A ball of confusing feelings unfurled inside me as I hurried to the door.

The first thing I noticed was the large box beside him, and then the scent of roasted turkey and yams.

“Hey,” he said, holding a stack of covered plates. “Happy Thanksgiving.”

I blinked slowly. “Happy Thanksgiving.”

“You going to invite me in?” He held up the plates, wiggling them. “I come bearing gifts in the form of food.”

I stepped aside.

Still grinning, he came in and waved his free hand. The box lifted off the porch and trailed behind him like a dog. It landed just inside the foyer. As I shut the door, I caught sight of Ash and Andrew climbing into their car. Neither of them looked over.

A lump formed in my throat as I turned to Daemon.

“I brought a little of everything.” He headed toward the kitchen. “There’s turkey, yams, cranberry sauce, mashed potatoes, green-bean casserole, some kind of apple crisp thing and pumpkin—Kitten? Are you coming?”

Peeling myself away from the front door, I went into the kitchen. He was setting up the table, uncovering the dishes. I…I didn’t know what to think.

Daemon raised his hands and two depression glass candleholders Mom never used floated to the table. Candles came next, and with a wave of his hand, their wicks sparked tiny flames.

The lump grew, nearly choking me.

Dinnerware and glasses came from several opened drawers. Mom’s wine flew out of the fridge, pouring into two crystal flutes while Daemon stood in the middle of everything. It was like a scene straight out of Beauty and the Beast. I kept waiting for a teapot to start singing.

“And after dinner, I have another surprise for you.”

“You do?” I whispered.

He nodded. “But you’ve got to join me for dinner first.”

I shuffled to the table and sat, watching him with eyes that were blurry. He made me a plate and then sat beside me. I cleared my throat. “Daemon, I…I don’t know what to say, but thank you.”

“Thanks aren’t necessary,” he said. “You didn’t want to come over, which I understand, but you shouldn’t be alone.”

Lowering my gaze before he could see the tears gathering in my eyes, I grabbed the flute and downed the bitter-tasting white wine. When I looked up, his brows were raised.

“Lush,” he murmured.

I grinned. “Maybe—for today.”

He nudged me with his knee under the table. “Dig in before it gets cold.”

The food was divine. Any doubts I had about Dee’s cooking abilities vanished. Throughout our little makeshift dinner, I drank another glass of wine. I also ate everything that Daemon put on my plate, including second helpings.

And by the time I stabbed the pumpkin pie with my fork, I was either a little tipsy or I was starting to believe that there was more than just the connection propelling him. That maybe he did care for me, because I was able to fight it—sort of—and I know damn well that Daemon could if he wanted to.

Maybe he just didn’t want to.

Cleaning up dinner was a strangely intimate experience. Our elbows brushed several times. Amiable silence descended as we washed the dishes, side by side. My cheeks felt flushed. My thoughts were way too giddy.

Too much wine.

I followed Daemon into the foyer afterward. He moved the large box to the living room without touching it. It sort of jingled. Sitting on the edge of the couch, I folded my hands and waited, having no clue what he was up to.

Daemon opened the box, reached inside, and pulled out a green-needled branch and poked me with it. “I think we have a Christmas tree to put up. I know it’s not during the parade, but I think Charlie Brown’s Thanksgiving special is on, and, well, that’s not too bad.”

That was it. The lump in my throat was back, but there was no stopping it this time. Jumping from the couch, I raced out of the room. Tears formed, then slid down my cheeks. Emotion clogged my throat as I wiped under my eyes.

Daemon appeared in front of me, blocking the staircase. His eyes were wide, pupils luminous. I tried to turn away, but he quickly enveloped me in his strong arms. “I didn’t do this to make you cry, Kat.”

“I know,” I sniffled. “It’s just …”

“It’s just what?” He cupped my cheeks, his thumbs brushing away the tears. My skin tingled from the contact. “Kitten?”

“I don’t think you know how much…something like this means to me.” I took a deep breath, but the stupid tears kept falling. “I haven’t done this since—since Dad was alive. And I’m sorry to cry, because I’m not sad. I just didn’t expect this.”

“It’s okay.” Daemon tugged me forward, and I went. He wrapped his arms around me, holding me close as I buried my face into the front of his shirt. “I get it. Good tears and all.”

There was something warm and right about being in his arms. And I wanted to deny it, but for the first time, I stopped—I just stopped. Even if Daemon saw me as one giant Rubik’s Cube he had to crack or if it was the healing mojo, it didn’t matter. Not right now.

I grabbed a handful of his shirt and held on. He may have thought he knew how much this meant to me, but he really didn’t. Daemon would never know.

I lifted my head and reached up, clasping his smooth cheeks. With his help, I brought his lips to mine and kissed him. It was a quick and innocent kiss, but I felt the zing all the way to my toes. I pulled back, breathless. “Thank you. I really mean it. Thank you.”

He brushed the backs of his fingers over my cheek, smoothing the last of my tears away. “Don’t let anyone know about my sweet side. I have a reputation to keep up.”

I laughed. “All right, let’s do this.”

Trimming a Christmas tree with an alien was a different experience. He moved the recliner out from in front of the window with a jerk of his chin. Bulbs hung in the air along with twinkling lights that weren’t plugged in.

We laughed. A lot. Every so often I’d get choked up when I thought of Mom’s face tomorrow afternoon. She’d be happy, I thought.

Daemon dropped silvery tinsel on my head while I plucked a bulb out of the air. “Thanks,” I said.

“It kind of fits you.”

The scent of artificial pine filled the living room. The holiday spirit woke inside me like a slumbering giant. I grinned at Daemon and held up a bulb that was so green it almost matched his eyes. I decided it was going to be his bulb.

I placed it right under the twinkling star.

It was almost midnight by the time we finished. Sitting on the couch, thigh against thigh, we stared at our masterpiece. The tree was a little tinsel-heavy on one side, but it was perfect. A rainbow of colored lights shimmered. Glass bulbs glimmered.

“I love it,” I said.

“Yeah, it’s pretty good.” He leaned in to me, yawning. “Dee put up the tree this morning. She has to have everything the same color, but I think our tree looks better. It’s like a disco ball.”

Our tree. I smiled, liking the sound of that.

He bumped me with his shoulder. “You know, I had fun doing this.”

“I did, too.”

Daemon’s lashes lowered. Man, I’d kill for a set of those babies. “It’s late.”

“I know.” I hesitated. “You want to stay?”

A single brow arched.

That hadn’t come out right. “I don’t mean that.”

“Not that I’d complain if you did.” His gaze dropped. “Not at all.”

I rolled my eyes, but my tummy was coiling tight. Why had I offered for him to stay? His assumption wasn’t too far off. Daemon didn’t strike me as the type to dig PG-13 slumber parties. I remembered the last and only time we’d shared a bed. Flushing, I stood. I didn’t want him to leave, but I didn’t…I didn’t know what I wanted.

“I’m going to get changed,” I said.

“Need help?”

“Wow. You’re so chivalrous, Daemon.”

His smile widened, flashing deep dimples. “Well, the experience would be mutually beneficial. I promise.”

No doubt it would be.

“Stay,” I ordered, then hurried upstairs.

I quickly changed into a pair of sleep shorts and a pink thermal. Not the sexiest sleepwear, but as I washed my face and brushed my teeth, I decided it was the best choice. Anything else would give Daemon ideas. Hell, a paper sack would encourage him.

I left my bathroom and stopped. Daemon had not stayed. My smile slipped from my face.

He was standing by the window, his back to me. “I got bored.”

“I wasn’t even gone five minutes.”

“I have a short attention span.” He glanced back at me, eyes glittering. “Nice shorts.”

I grinned. There were stars on my shorts. “What are you doing up here?”

“You said I could stay.” He faced me, his gaze drifting to the bed. The room suddenly seemed too small, the bed even smaller. “I didn’t think you meant staying on the couch.”

Now I wasn’t even sure what I’d meant. I sighed. What was I doing?

Crossing the room, he stopped in front of me. “I’m not going to bite.”

“That’s good.”

“Unless you want me to,” he added with a devilish grin.

“Nice,” I muttered, side-stepping him. Space was definitely needed. Not that it did much good. Heart pounding, I watched him kick off his shoes and then whip off his shirt. He moved to the button on his jeans. My eyes widened. “What—what are you doing?”

“Getting ready for bed.”

“But you’re getting naked!”

He arched his brow. “I do have boxers on. What? Do you expect me to sleep in my jeans?”

“You did last time.” I felt the need to fan myself.

Daemon laughed. “Actually, I had pajama bottoms on.”

And he’d had a shirt on, but who was keeping track? I could’ve told him to leave, but I turned away, pretending to be engrossed with a book on my desk. Chills shot straight to my core when I heard the bed groan under his weight. Taking a shallow breath, I turned around. He was in bed, arms folded behind his head, an innocent look on his face. “This was a bad idea,” I whispered.

“It was probably the smartest idea you’ve ever had.”

I rubbed my palms on my hips. “It’s going to take a lot more than Thanksgiving dinner and a Christmas tree to get laid.”

“Damn. There goes my whole plan.”

Flustered, infuriated, and thrilled, I stared at him. So many emotions couldn’t be possible. My head was spinning as I stalked over to my side of the bed—oh my God, when had we developed sides?—and quickly slid under the covers. I did not want to know if he’d left the jeans on or not. “Can you turn off the light?” Darkness descended without him moving. Several moments passed. “That’s a handy ability.”

“It is.”

My eyes focused on the pale light peeking through the curtains. “Maybe one day I can be just as lazy as you and turn off lights without moving.”

“That’s something to aspire to.”

I relaxed a fraction of an inch and smiled. “God, you’re so modest.”

“Modesty is for saints and losers. I’m neither.”

“Wow, Daemon, just wow.”

He rolled onto his side, his breath stirring the hair along my neck. My heart leaped into my throat. “I can’t believe you haven’t kicked me out yet.”

“Same here,” I murmured.

Daemon weaseled his way closer, and, oh yeah, he’d gotten rid of his jeans. His bare legs brushed mine, and my heart rate spiked. “I really didn’t mean to make you cry earlier.”

I flipped onto my back and stared up at him. He was raised on one elbow. Silky locks fell into his shining eyes. “I know. The whole thing you did, it was sort of amazing.”

“I just didn’t like the idea of you being alone.”

Slow and steady breaths raised my chest. Like when he’d hugged me downstairs and I’d kissed him, I wanted to stop thinking. Impossible when his eyes held the intensity of a thousand suns.

Daemon reached out, brushing a strand of hair off my cheek with the tips of his fingers. Electricity shimmered through me. There was no denying the attraction—the pull that didn’t want to let either of us go. My gaze was fixed on his lips like an addict. Memories of the way they’d felt seared me. All of this was crazy. Inviting him to stay, getting in bed with him, and thinking what I was about him. Crazy. Exciting.

I swallowed. “We should go to sleep.”

His hand palmed my cheek, and I wanted to touch him. I wanted to be closer. “We should,” he agreed.

Lifting my hand, I brushed my fingers over his lips. They were pillowy soft yet firm. Intoxicating. Daemon’s eyes flared, and my stomach hollowed. He shifted his head closer and his lips brushed the corner of mine. His hands slid from my face and down my neck, and when he dipped his head again, his lips brushed over the tip of my nose. And then he kissed me. A slow-burning, toe-curling kiss that left me aching for so, so much more. I felt like I was spinning into that kiss, falling into him.

He pulled back with a groan and settled beside me, wrapping an arm around my waist. “Good night, Kitten.”

Heart pounding, I let out a long sigh. “That’s all?”

Daemon laughed. “That’s all…for now.”

Biting my lip, I willed my heart to slow down. It seemed to take forever. Then finally, I wiggled closer until he snaked an arm under my head. I turned onto my side, resting my cheek against his upper arm. Our breaths mingled as we lay there, staring at each other silently until his eyes drifted shut. For the second time that night, I admitted that maybe I’d been wrong about Daemon. Maybe I didn’t even know myself. And there was no wine to blame this time.

I drifted off to sleep wondering what he meant by “for now.”