Cold Feet (Empathy in the PPNW Book 3) Page 12

  “Tonight we’re having our usual bonding events that we encourage our couples to join. Would you two be willing to come back for board games and movies?”

  “We actually have plans with my brother and sister-in-law, but we were discussing it and we think we should take you up on your offer to monitor us while we sleep. Can you fit us in for tonight?”

  “Oh!” Happiness surfed through the doctor and I felt myself let out another giggle, dizziness swirling around behind my eyes and making me feel just a little bit sick. Both men ignored me clutching my rolling belly as they got to their feet. “This is wonderful news! Yes, of course we can fit you in. We have a room upstairs ready just for you. Be back here about fifteen minutes before lights-out and we’ll get you all set up. Once you spend time in our beds you won’t want to leave.”

  I snorted, shook my head. “I’ll bet.”

  Mel asked a few questions about what we would need to bring, intercepting Coontz when he tried once again to touch me to lead me out of the room. I hadn’t even seen the guy coming that time, but it occurred to me as Mel was shuffling me through the front door that being touched wouldn’t have been as bad as whatever had gripped my stomach and started shaking it. I was so queasy and confused Mel practically had to buckle me into the car, but he waited until we’d reached the end of the driveway to demand an explanation.

  “What is wrong with you? You were fighting okay, but now you’re acting weird.”

  “Nothing, I feel okay. I mean…” I considered. The further away from the center we got, the better I felt. Whatever had come over me, whatever had been in the lunch or reaching out from Coontz’ emotions was receding in the fresh air of the ride home. “Better, I feel good now that we’re on the way home.”

  “Are you sure? This is the second time you’ve seemed stoned. Is there something in the lemonade?”

  “I’m fine,” I insisted, shaking my head to get rid of the last bit of dizziness. I was starving, though. “I’m hungry, actually. Lunch wasn’t filling at all and I ate all the cookies right away. That’s about it.”

  “No, that’s not it. And what’s up with your arm?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You just got blood drawn, right? It looks like you got attacked by another vampire.”

  I shuddered at the thought. Been there, done that, would not be interested in a repeat.

  “It was just some blood tests. This nice, very attractive woman came in, tied my arm off, took my blood, and I left. That’s it. I’m pretty sure, anyway. She was good, too; I didn’t feel a thing.”

  “Hmm,” Mel said, eyeing me suspiciously.

  My mood only got better for a few hours while I rolled around with the puppies. I was even invited to go out on an evening run with the family but Mel insisted I stay back and take a nap. When I tried to refuse, he shoved a glass of cold water into my hand, demanded I drink it all. I took a sip, but he shook his head, pointed at it sternly. I rolled my eyes like a teenager, feeling my happiness taper off in the face of his attitude.

  “You were acting weird there at the end.”

  “End of what?”

  “Keep drinking,” Mel ordered. “At the end of the session. You looked…sick. But not… I don’t know. You didn’t seem—just—like you’d been drugged. How do you feel?”

  “Annoyed,” I said, the last of my relaxation deteriorating as he treated me like one of the children. While I drank, I turned to watch the parade of puppies head toward the door on Julian’s heels. Abruptly, Sarah yanked off her top and skirt, standing there completely nude for a moment. She was just as impressive naked as Julian and Mel.

  I barely noticed the blond hair growth along her tan skin as she shifted into her wolf form. Before long, though, she had the muzzle and the tail and was trotting after her family, a golden, lupine goddess. Finishing off the cup of water, I swiped a hand over my mouth and sighed.

  “I’m so jealous of you guys. You all look spectacular naked and you don’t ever have to shave.”

  “We all look spectacular naked?” Mel asked. I turned to glare at him and shoved the empty cup against his chest. Smarmy grin fixed in place, he watched me intently for a moment. None of the evening’s intimacy caught up to us then, for which I was grateful.

  “You know you do, shut up. I’m going to go nap—because I like naps, not because you’re the boss of me. Wake me before we leave.”

  “As opposed to dragging you there unconscious?”

  “Hey, I wouldn’t put it past you.”

  “Dream of me!” Mel sang as I moved toward the back room. Knowing the puppies were all well out of sight, I held a hand up and flipped him off.

  Chapter Ten

  “Brilliant idea,” I hissed in the dark. Mel shifted, breathed out a laugh.

  “I know.”

  “I was being sarcastic.”

  “I know,” he admitted, scooting closer in the bed. I sighed, turning my face away slightly in case he still had dog breath. When he spoke again, I smelled toothpaste.

  “I have a plan.”

  “Care to explain it to me?”

  “Not for another few minutes. Let’s just get comfy. Pumpkin.”

  “Stop with the food nicknames. What’s your plan? They’ve got cameras spying on us, they’re going to know if we get up and go for a stroll.”

  “Don’t worry, I’ve got it handled. What nickname would you prefer? Sugar?”

  “Still food.” I should know; it’s my primary source of calories. “We’ve been wasting time here for over an hour and you have yet to spring into action. What are we doing?”

  “Being an incompatible married couple. Maybe we should have a fight so we can engage in some make up sex.”

  “I’m not having sex with anyone watching.”

  “So I’ll throw your panties over the camera. You can pretend we’re in some political thriller and the sex will save the world,” he said, his hand creeping up my thigh above the blanket.

  “Bet you always pretend sex with you is world-saving,” I accused, wiggling my hips until his hand dropped away. He laughed again, his whole body shaking with the effort to keep quiet, but I noted he didn’t deny it.

  We’d arrived on time and Dr. Coontz had led us upstairs in the main building, shown us to our room. He’d pointed out that there were four cameras in the room, all with night vision capabilities and microphones to catch if we snored or spoke or, I guess, committed adultery or some other marriage-ruining action in our sleep. He’d been seemingly forthcoming, showing us the room into which the cameras fed. There was a bay of monitors, each split into four quadrants, showing couples sitting, stretched out, chatting quietly about presumably mundane things.

  We’d been instructed to change into sleep clothes and go to bed normally. We were to pretend there wasn’t a skinny, redheaded twenty-something with big teeth watching our every move. Mel had been willing to strip down and change right in the room but the doctor had shown us the little bathroom in the corner, where he promised we would have complete, unmonitored privacy.

  I still did my best to get changed without getting undressed. I didn’t trust the doctor one bit.

  Mel poked me in my belly and I realized I’d dozed off.

  “Wake up. We’re not actually here to sleep,” he whispered. I grumbled at him, ignoring when he draped a hand over my hip this time.

  “I’m not sleeping,” I grumbled. Mel spoke and I could feel his breath on my face, feel his other arm shift as he tucked it between his chest and my hands.

  “No. You’re not," he stated, his voice a good-natured order.

  “What are we waiting for?” I asked, eyes still closed.

  “There’s still too much activity going on downstairs. We can’t snoop yet.”

  “Well, then be quiet and let me pretend I’m somewhere else.”

  “Somewhere else?” he whispered, managing to infuse the quiet words with disbelief. “What could possibly be better than being here with me?”

  “I
can think of hundreds of places and most of them involve eating sweets. A bakery on fire, for instance. Everyone else would be running out screaming, no one would notice I’m saving all the imperiled pastries by shoving them in my mouth.”

  “I’ll feed you something sweet,” he purred, his voice audible even to the microphones around the room. I laughed, gave in, and opened my eyes. The room was dim but I could see the outline of his face. We were lying on our sides, arms tucked up between us, my hands folded under my chin. All in all, it wasn’t really bad. As if sensing my train of thought Mel caught my eye.

  “Come on, you’ve had fun the last few days. Admit it.”

  “Eh.” I made a non-committal sound, shrugged my shoulder.

  “Now who’s being a dick?” he asked. I chuckled.

  “Fine. It’s been fun. Other than the constant sexual harassment, it’s been pleasant.”

  “You’re not used to that by now?” Mel scoffed, sighing. “It’s almost like I don’t do it enough.”

  “Your family’s great,” I pushed on, ignoring his teasing and focusing instead on the meals Julian had prepared for us over the last few days. I made a yummy sound. “And the food has been worth all that.”

  “You are shockingly orally fixated,” Mel observed. I snorted painfully, laughing loud enough that I was sure the neighboring rooms had heard. When my laughter died down, Mel slid one hand under mine, while the other moved up from my hip to the back of my shoulder. He paused, giving me the chance to shove him away or refuse the action. It was all so pleasant, so innocent and I didn’t even think of objecting. Snuggling with Mel, warm and comfortable, full of home-cooked food and with no immediate responsibilities, I was pretty happy.

  Mel pushed closer, our faces less than a finger width apart. I heard him breath out, smelled the toothpaste again, as his hand splayed along my spine. My heart started pounding like an angry landlord of the door of a delinquent tenant.

  “This is nice,” he whispered. I got the feeling he was asking permission and in the moment I wanted to give it.

  “It is,” I whispered back. When he tipped his head to catch my mouth, I welcomed him.

  His lips were soft, the kiss chaste at first. When I didn’t change my mind and pull away or attack him, he scooted his hips closer, giving me gentle, closed-lips kisses on my mouth and chin. Realizing he wasn’t going to take it further on his own, I closed my eyes, twisted my right hand to gather the fabric of his shirt in my grip. He closed his hand around my left fist gently but kept the kisses sweet and decidedly innocent.

  Fully aware there was probably going to be video evidence of what I was doing, I parted my lips, pressing harder against his mouth, slipping my tongue out to meet his. His grip tightened as he hugged me to him, moved his hand away from mine to slip under my shoulder to lift me. I let him pull my body over his and cupped his face, my thumb rubbing over his cheek. He kept his hands on my back, trailing his fingers up and down my spine and sending shivers out in waves.

  My lungs worked to catch up with my frantic heart, my breath coming quicker as we touched and caressed. The sensations were dizzying, his fingers slipping into my hair, mine roaming along the muscles of his chest and stomach. I wanted to feel his skin against mine, the smoothness I knew lay beneath the soft fabric of his shirt. As his breath started to come faster, his hands undecided on where to go, I shoved his shirt up, pressing my belly to his. He ignored my urging as I tried to let him know I wanted him shirtless. For once, Mel seemed self-conscious, concerned with dignity. The thought made me smile and I felt him do the same.

  I found the warmth of the stone on his chest, tangled my fingers in the leather cord that held his emotions in check. When I’d gotten my fill of just enjoying the feel of his skin, I moved my hand slowly down, over his belly, heading for the waistline of his pants.

  My hormones were in control and, despite the fact that my brain was politely saying, “Ahem. The cameras?” I couldn’t bother to worry about them.

  Sensing where my hand was headed, Mel shifted abruptly, rolling me onto my back, grabbing my hand and bringing it upward to pin my arm to the pillow. He held himself aloft above me for a few seconds, pressing my wrist against the pillow as I struggled to get back to the task of undressing him. When I stopped moving, submitting to him, he brushed his fingers feather-light down my arm, over my ribs to press against my hip as he lowered his body onto mine. I sighed out with the weight of him, moving my hand down his back, slower this time. He stopped me once again, clasping my fingers with his before I’d even reached the bottom of his shirt.

  Annoyance flashed through me as he made it clear he intended to keep things tame. How did he know how far I even wanted to go, dammit? Maybe I was going to stop at getting him down to his boxers. Maybe I was just playing along enough to convince the redhead with big teeth that we were indeed a married couple.

  I can say for certain my hormones were not that tactically-minded, but he didn’t know that.

  When he moved his mouth away from my lips, I took a deep breath, realizing the heat and the—ahem—situation were making me dizzy. I let my free hand roam his back but before I could make my intentions toward his pants clear once again, a wave of discomfort rolled into the room, crowding my brain.

  I felt woozy, sick. This stupid place was killing me.

  “I’m going to throw up,” I said. Mel laughed against my neck, kissing along my throat, back toward my mouth. I turned my head away from him, pushing at the hand that held mine.

  “What?” he asked as he realized I was fighting, not encouraging; his body tensed over mine before he lifted himself off me, freeing me completely. “Oh, shit, I thought you were kidd—”

  “Gonna—Oh god,” I heaved, shoving at him with both hands. The door to the room opened and I caught a glimpse of a womanly shape framed there. Before I could get a good look at anything other than her attractive curves, I rolled off the bed, crawled into the adjoining bathroom and retched into the toilet.

  The nausea doubled, nearly blinding me. I heard the woman’s voice from the doorway and it was an echo of itself, slow and fast at the same time. The pitch of it said worry, but that wasn’t what I felt in the wobbly emotions slam dancing through my head like a bad hangover.

  I tuned out the words as she and Mel discussed my predicament and concentrated on making sure that my internal organs stayed put. By the time the woman left, I was pretty sure I’d accidentally vomited up a kidney along with my half-digested dinner, but this is why we’re born with two, right? I stayed folded over the bowl as I recovered, as the sickness washed out of my mind. In the end, I was fully aware of the fact that I’d let the warmth of the bed and the experiences of the last few days almost talk me into having sex with Mel.

  On camera.

  As if I could ever live such a thing down. Cursing my brainlessness, I considered the consequences of what I’d nearly done. If evidence of my attraction to Mel existed anywhere in the world, Chloe would find it. Hell, she’d probably already sensed what had just happened and was hacking the mainframe of Tough Love so she could get hold of the video of Mel and me making out. She’d print out screenshots and glue them to every surface of my office, with, “I TOLD YOU SO,” scrawled in big, giant letters across every one.

  “Ugh,” I groaned, pushing to my feet. I grabbed the side of the narrow sink, rinsed my mouth out in the glow of the tiny, blue-hued nightlight. I groaned again, standing upright, turning to face the room. Mel was sitting on the edge of the bed, watching me. I swear I wasn’t at all disappointed that he still had pants on.

  “I really do make you sick to your stomach, don’t I?” he asked. His tone was inscrutable and, without light enough to see his face or the guide of his emotions, I wasn’t sure if he was joking. Unsure if making a rude comment was the way to go, I shrugged a shoulder, wiped at my mouth.

  “I think I found another you,” I said, finally, aware there was someone listening to us. “Like we discussed in the garden.”

  “Wh
o? Where?” Mel sprung to his feet, turning to look around the room rapidly. I shook my head.

  “No,” I insisted, stepping close. I reached up and pulled him down to my level, standing on my tiptoes to equalize the height difference as well as I could. “The woman who came to check on us. She’s definitely not human. As soon as she got here, I—”

  “Doctor Taylor? Of course she is,” Mel interrupted, speaking quietly into my ear. “I could smell her and she’s just a woman."

  “I don’t think so,” I said, dropping to flat feet. Mel stayed hunched over, but didn’t try to close the gap or touch me. “I got sick when she came into the room.”

  “Must’ve just been what we were doing, then,” he insisted. “Because I can guarantee, if she was something else, I would have smelled it.”

  I took a step back, glared up at him. I couldn’t see his expression, but I knew he could see mine. We squared off like that for a bit, watching each other in the dark, considering what had just happened. Abruptly, Mel turned to look at the door.

  “Come on, let’s…get out of this room.”

  ##

  Mel’s brilliant plan turned out to be as simple as paying the kid in the monitor room two hundred bucks to tell anyone who asked that we just slept in our beds quietly all night. I’d had the smarts to ask if there was a recording that could be eighty-sixed, but the kid had shrugged, pointed to a narrow device that looked like a DVD player. Hitting the eject button showed us an empty tray, which seemed to amuse Mel. It worried me, though. Even if it turned out there was no cult and it had actually been Mel making me sick, Tough Love was looking more and more like a sham by the minute.

  The kid didn’t seem too bothered by the lie, making me wonder how many other couples had paid him to look the other way while they went to make whoopee in the garden or on one of the reception sofas. I thought of Cornelius and Mira sitting on that couch when we’d first met them and felt a little disgusted on their behalf.