Fangs But No Fangs

CHAPTER 18

Christian watched Jolee's expression closely as she walked through the front hallway that led back to the restaurant proper. Her eyes cast around the place, as if she were trying to take in everything at once. He glanced around, finding the wainscoting and flowered wallpaper to be quaint, but hardly anything exceptional.

"This is beautiful," she murmured, reaching out a hand to touch the ornate molding around one of the windows. She traced the detailing with her fingertip. "Can you imagine living in a place like this?"

She smiled at him. "I bet you have lived in places this nice."

He had lived in places far fancier, but he couldn't even recall any of the larger details about them, much less being fascinated by the intricacies of the molding around the windows.

He nodded absently, lost in her lovely smile, wishing he could share all those places with her. See them through her eyes. Appreciate them with her. Shame filled him. He'd squandered so much, in his life and in his undeath. He'd taken for granted things that Jolee had never even had.

"Can I help you?"

Both of them turned to see a lanky man with thinning brown hair and glasses smiling politely at them.

Christian felt Jolee stiffen at his side as if she fully expected this man of accusing them of trespassing. Then he noticed her fingers went to the seam of her skirt, tugging self-consciously at the material. Christian caught her hand, giving it a squeeze.

"Yes, I have a reservation."

The man nodded. "For two?"

"Yes, under the name Young."

The man nodded again. "Certainly, right this way."

Christian continued to hold her hand, noticing her fingers were cold despite the warmth of the evening. The maître d' stopped by his podium to pick up two menus, then led them through the main dining room toward the French doors, which exited to the outside tables. From the corners of his eyes, he could tell Jolee was still gaping about her, amazed at everything. What amazed him was how simple things like holding her hand and taking her to a restaurant filled him with such contentment. He'd forgotten small pleasures, having existed for nothing but extreme excess.

Once outside, the man led them directly to a table along the railing. He held out the chair, waiting for Jolee to sit. She hesitated, but then smiled at the man, moving to take the offered seat. The man still appeared a little dazed by her lovely smile, even as he told them that the waiter would be right with them and excused himself. He had barely managed that, much less taken notice of her denim skirt. But as soon as he left and it was just the two of them, Jolee seemed to relax, gazing around her with an awed expression.

"This is just absolutely beautiful." She sighed, settling back in her chair.

"I'm glad you like it." He wanted to please this woman as she pleased him.

The waiter arrived, asking if they wanted anything to drink. Christian scanned the wine menu, finding an acceptable wine on the list.

"Do you drink Domaine Serene?"

Jolee smiled, raising an amused eyebrow. "I don't even know what it is."

"It's a pinot noir."

"Oh. No," she said, then she thought better of it. "But I'd like to try a glass."

He nodded, ordering two glasses. "Do you care for red wines?"

She shook her head, giving him a cute, unsure look. "I don't know. I've never had one." She shrugged. "Since the bar doesn't serve any wine other than wine coolers, I've never tried it. And I don't really drink anyway."

He didn't have the heart to tell her that wine coolers weren't really wine. Plus he was more intrigued by her last comment.

"But you own a bar."

"Kind of ironic, huh?" She laughed. Her laughter seemed to warm the air.

"So why a bar?"

She smiled. "Well, I know how to tend bar. I've been mixing drinks pretty much since I could walk."

He frowned. "Why on earth did you mix drinks as a child?"

She paused, dropping her gaze from his as if she just realized she'd said more than she intended. The table was quiet for a moment, and he was about to change the subject when she spoke.

"Well, when my mother was too drunk to make her own, someone had to." She met his gaze almost as if to challenge him, daring him to look down on her, daring him to feel bad for her.

He did feel bad, but more than that he felt angry at a parent who would do that to a child. But he didn't show her either emotion, afraid she'd stop talking. And he wanted to know everything about her.

"Does it bother you to serve drinks now?"

"I don't serve drinks now. I have this really hot hunk doing that." She nudged his leg under the table with her foot.

His chest swelled at both her description of him and her touch. And that her mood had lifted again. But he didn't allow himself to get distracted from his original question.

"But why a bar?"

Her smile faded, but she didn't look upset by the question. Instead, she appeared thoughtful.

"It's something I can do." She shrugged. "Plus, I made peace with my mother's drinking years ago. She did the best she could, given the hand she was dealt. Besides, I don't necessarily want Leo's because of the bar."

"So what do you want?" But as soon as the question was out, he knew the answer.

"I wanted the karaoke," she said, confirming his own guess. "My mother drank to escape. And I sang. Growing up, I listened to the radio all the time, using music to forget everything else that was happening in my life. I used to imagine I was a famous singer, touring the world."

"So why not go for that?" He could picture her up on a stage, entrancing audiences with her sweet, mellow voice and amazing smile.

She sighed. "Well, first of all, I'm too chicken. And secondly, I know that I'm really not good enough to be a star. I mean, just look at Leo's, every night there are so many talented people up there, singing their hearts out."

"And some not so talented people," he added wryly.

"That's true, too. But I actually like just doing karaoke. It gives me the same escape. And not just me singing, I find the same escape in watching other people sing. Even the bad ones." She grinned. "It's therapeutic.

"And," she added, "I really want to prove to myself that I can be a success at something. That I can run my own business."

"That's really important to you, isn't it?"

She nodded. "Yes."

The waiter returned with the two glasses of pinot noir. He sipped his, watching her over the rim to see what she thought of the dark, richly ripe wine. She took a small sip, her face contorting only slightly at the new taste.

"Not too bad," she told him, but he didn't get the feeling she'd be a devoted red wine fan.

"So what about you?" she asked, setting the glass back on the table. "How did you get so rich that you can work at a bar for free?"

"I inherited, and I invested," he stated flatly, feeling no pride in his money, especially when he saw how hard she worked to keep the bar and herself going.

"That requires savvy."

He raised an eyebrow in acknowledgement, but didn't comment. He didn't want to talk about yet another thing he'd taken totally for granted until he met her. Fortunately the waiter returned to take their order.

"You go first," she said, picking up the menu to quickly peruse the entrees.

Christian ordered the filet mignon, very rare.

She ordered the grilled salmon. And an iced tea.

He smiled at that. She smiled back.

"So what about the rest of your family?" he asked her.

"What about them?" He could tell she was purposely being obtuse.

"Do you have other siblings?"

"Yes," she said, and he could tell she wasn't going to elaborate.

He reached across the table to touch her hand, which toyed with the stem of her wineglass. "I'm not trying to make you uncomfortable. I just want to know more about you."

She stared at him for a moment, then sighed. "I have five brothers and two sisters."

"Big family."

She nodded. "Yes. One big ole dysfunctional family."

Jolee studied Christian's expression. Nothing but interest showed in his eyes. Part of her wanted to just change the subject altogether. She'd been embarrassed enough when she'd thoughtlessly announced her mother was an alcoholic. And he'd met Vance. She didn't want to talk about the rest. But she wanted a real relationship with this man, and she knew she had to be honest with him. He should know who she was and where she came from. She wanted to prove that she was different, not to run away and deny her past. If he couldn't accept her after the truth, then he wasn't the one for her.

"Well," she started slowly. "Vance isn't exception to the rule. All five of my brothers are in and out of trouble with the law on a regular basis. In fact, last I heard, my oldest brother, Rex, was in prison for assault, and one of my other brothers, Harlen, is also in prison for manslaughter. I'm sure it's only a matter of time before Vance, who is my youngest brother, is back in prison for possession. He's already done two stints in the Ashland Correctional Facility. I don't actually know where my other brothers, Rusty and Bobby Jon, are. Knowing the two of them, they're on a tristate crime spree."

She glanced at Christian to check his reaction, but he just watched her with those enigmatic eyes.

"My sister, Libby Ann, has just divorced her third husband and moved herself and her five kids in with her ex-husband's brother. I imagine she'll either be married or pregnant again anytime. And my oldest sister, Fanny, ran away when I was about seven. I heard she'd made it as far as Vegas, and she was working the strip. Although I don't know if that's true or not."

She waited, watching his face, expecting him to be appalled or scandalized, or at the very least disappointed that he was wasting his time on someone who obviously wasn't worth his attention. But he gave her none of those responses; instead he reached across the table and stroked her cheek.

"Jolee, you amaze me more and more."

She was pretty sure her jaw hit the linen tablecloth. He wasn't disgusted in the least by the description of her seriously dysfunctional family. He actually looked… proud.

"Are you crazy? I just told you that my family would make most of the Manson family look like pillars of the community."

He nodded, taking a sip of his wine as though she'd told him nothing out of the ordinary.

"All families have a few skeletons," he said.

"Does yours?"

He made a face she didn't understand. "You could say that."

"What are your family skeletons?"

He shook his head as if to tell her he wouldn't answer.

"Wait," she said, "I told you mine."

Christian looked down at his place setting, running a long, tapered finger down the handle of his fork. "Jolee, for all practical purposes, I don't have a family. And I believe if you did talk to my brothers, they'd say I'm the skeleton."

She paused. Because of Lilah. She suddenly felt like such an idiot.

"I'm sorry."

"No, I'm sorry," he said sincerely as he reached for his wine.

She took a sip from hers, too. She was starting to see that maybe they weren't that different after all. They were both recovering from a traumatic past. They were both alone. And they both needed to learn how to trust. She gazed at him over the rim of her glass, a warm, protective feeling stirring deep inside her. They might have started out in very different places, but they were struggling with a lot of the same issues. They needed each other.

She set the drink aside and straightened her posture. Tonight was the most special night of her life. She was in an amazingly romantic restaurant with a gorgeous, wonderful man, and she wasn't going to let this moment be ruined by their pasts.

"Okay, enough talk about heavy stuff," she stated. "Let's think up a new topic."

Christian set his glass aside and relaxed back against his chair. "What's the topic?"

"What's your favorite cartoon character?"

He frowned.

"This is very important stuff," she assured him.

He pondered the question. "I guess… Mickey Mouse."

"I knew it," she said as if his answer was very telling.

He raised a curious eyebrow. "And yours?"

"Well, Minnie Mouse, of course."

Despite the pain of thinking about his brothers, Jolee managed to change the atmosphere with her cheerful chatter. She kept her silly questions coming all through dinner, and he easily found himself responding, feeling lighter and more carefree than he could remember. And he'd managed to discover through her silly inquiries that she wanted to travel, she loved the color green, but she didn't like peas.

As much as her funny comments and wacky insights amused him, just being with her created an astonishing sense of contentment, deep inside him, that he couldn't remember ever feeling. His existence had always been about constant questing, constant struggles to feel satisfied. He wasn't sure he'd ever felt true contentment until he'd met Jolee.

He loved to watch how her eyes sparkled when she laughed or the look of amazement when she noticed another detail about their surroundings. Through her eyes, he saw things for the first time. And not just for the first time since he crossed over, maybe for the first time ever.

Jolee finished her salmon with a pleased sigh. "That was absolutely delicious."

Christian smiled, amused at her satisfied expression. Even watching her eat fascinated him. She ate like she'd never tasted food before and every spice and seasoning was new to her.

But then maybe they were. He knew from the little she'd said about her family that luxuries like restaurants weren't something she'd experienced. And her money was too tight now to treat herself. She might very well have gone without.

He studied her, taking notice of her cheekbones, which would be prominent even if she was thirty pounds heavier. But were they so dramatic now because she wasn't eating? She reached for her iced tea, and he saw the delicate jut of the bones in her wrist, and the slenderness of her arm. He knew her build had probably always been tall and slender, but he now realized that she was almost too thin.

Not that that dampened his desire for her. He eyed her graceful fingers, still holding the glass. He remembered them stroking his hair and face, his shoulders and back. No, she definitely aroused him beyond all reason.

The waiter arrived to clear their plates.

"Are you interested in a dessert menu?" he asked.

"Yes," Christian said automatically.

After the waiter left, Jolee grinned at him.

"What?" he asked, although giving a bemused smile to her.

"You must have a sweet tooth. You barely touched your meal, but you want dessert."

A sweet tooth. There had to be a joke in there somewhere.

"Yes," he told her, even though he'd really requested the menu for her. He wanted her to eat her fill. As far as his own appetite, he'd fed before he left his trailer from pilfered bags from the hospital. So his hunger was fully satisfied. But he'd even managed to eat a couple bites of his filet, suffering only the slightest bout of nausea. Fortunately the steak had been very rare. That helped.

"Well, you should eat more," she said with a worried scowl, like he'd seen her use on Jed. "You don't want to get feeling light-headed."

Warmth heated in the pit of his stomach, radiating up to his chest. Who knew being mothered could be so enjoyable? It was on the tip of his tongue to tell her she needed to eat, as well, but he caught himself. Knowing Jolee, she'd take offense to the comment, assuming he saw a flaw in her. And that certainly wasn't the case. He'd only found perfection.

The waiter returned with the menus, but Jolee didn't even open hers. Instead, she gazed at a lit cobblestone path that led down to the lake.

"Would you prefer to take a walk?"

She smiled, her eyes bright. "Yes. I'd love to."

Christian waved the waiter over to settle the bill.

A few minutes later, they were on the winding path, strolling toward the water. A warm breeze stirred the air and gentle waves lapped the rocks on the shore.

"Oh, look," Jolee exclaimed, pointing out a small gazebo on the edge of the lake, nearly hidden amongst flowering trees, heavy with white and pink blossoms.

She caught Christian's hand and pulled him toward the small building. The gazebo was weathered, but well-built with benches along two of the walls.

She released his hand and walked inside to look out at the water. He followed. The moon and stars reflected and rippled on the dark surface.

"This is so nice," she said, closing her eyes and tilting her head back. The air played with wisps of her hair, and his fingers itched to do the same.

"Happy?" he asked instead.

She blinked over at him, then a broad smile curled her lips. "This is heaven."

Then she hugged him, holding him tight against her slender frame.

"No," he murmured, "this is heaven." He nudged her chin up and captured her lips.