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(Sur)real: Chapter 17

JIM…

It took every ounce of willpower to remove my hands from Olivia’s shoulders. I watched her in the mirror above the desk, as I had from the moment I’d turned her away from me. Her flushed cheeks and slightly parted lips increased the ache that had grown much further south than my pain-free chest.

I didn’t feel a twinge of guilt for looking at her shirtless or for touching her or for kissing her soft skin. I’d needed to test my theory. Doing everything I’d done and seeing her bare without feeling a bit of pain proved I was right. The oath and my connection to the pack kept me from doing anything that might be self-serving. The key to being with Olivia was believing it wasn’t in my interest but in the pack’s interest.

Winifred had told me time and again to listen to my heart. My heart told me that the voice I’d heard when speaking the oath belonged to the Lady. The same mysterious being who, according to Olivia, had been stacking the deck to ensure the Judgement happened this time around.

If the Lady had been guiding not only the pack through our Elders and our oaths, but the Judgements as well, then there was only one logical conclusion. For the sake of the pack and the Judgement, Olivia and I were meant to be together.

I wasn’t sure why the Lady had chosen me, but I wasn’t going to let that stop me from enjoying the gift she’d given me.

“Let’s go make some memories that will compete for favorite,” I said.

“I think we already have,” she said softly, then quickly held up her hand before I could take her comment as an okay to go back to what we were doing a moment ago.

“If I go with you today, do you promise to behave?” she asked.

“Nope. But I promise to listen if you tell me to cut it out.”

She sighed and shook her head. I reached out to Winifred over our private link.

Can we borrow someone’s car?

Why? she sent back.

Olivia has no good memories. None. Her whole life has been mistreatment and pain. I need to show her something good.

I don’t think—

Can you imagine dying tomorrow without one good memory to hold onto in your final moments?

There was a moment of silence.

Come get the keys.

I grinned and laced my fingers through Olivia’s.

“Winifred is going to let me drive her car. This should be fun.”

“I’m starting to believe your idea of fun is different from everyone else’s.”

I chuckled.

“You might be right.”

We left our room and walked down the hall. Winifred stood in her open door, waiting for us.

“Are you sure this is wise?” she asked, looking at my hand linked with Olivia’s. “I could go with you two.”

“We’ll be fine on our own. I promise,” I said.

“Olivia?” Winifred asked, shifting her gaze to my Mate.

“I’ll be careful with him,” Olivia said. “If anything happens, I can call you if you want to give me your number.”

Winifred rattled off her number, and Olivia repeated it back. With reluctance, Winifred handed over her keys.

“Thank you, Nana,” I said with a grin.

Stay in touch, she sent me. I love you like my own, Jim. I’ll worry the whole time you’re gone.

I leaned forward and kissed her cheek.

“I love you too, Nana.”

She sighed and said nothing more as I led Olivia away.

“You’re so lucky to have her,” Olivia said. “To have all of them.”

“You have them now, too.” I gave her hand a gentle squeeze and held the lobby door for her. Everyone had cleared out of the breakfast area already.

After wrapping her hand around my arm, I led her across the parking lot and helped her into the car.

“What should we do first? Shop or walk around?” I asked.

“Walk around. I’m not sure shopping will be much fun when I can’t see.”

“Who shopped for your clothes?” I pulled out onto the road, and followed the flow of traffic toward the downtown area.

“Blake did.”

The thought of him picking out her clothes made my hackles rise, especially when I recalled what she’d said about her nightshirt.

“He shopped for me because it gave him satisfaction to provide for me and to see me dressed the way he liked me dressed. The Mated females hated me even more because of his consideration. Their males never shopped for them. They told me it wasn’t something males liked to do.”

“Emmitt shops with Michelle every chance she gives him.” I didn’t add that he spent most of the time trying to talk her into another little black dress or more swim suits. My mouth watered at the idea of Olivia in either.

“Don’t write shopping off until you try it, all right?” I said.

“Okay. I could use a new nightshirt.”

“No way. The one you have is perfect. Just don’t open the door with it on.”

She turned her head to look at me instead of out the window.

“I think continuing to wear it would be a little dangerous for us both. If I say yes to shopping today and want a nightshirt, can I trust you to help me buy something more appropriate than what Blake did?”

I wanted to squirm with guilt like I was a cub caught stealing food from the kitchen again.

“Yes. You can trust me.” We’d have plenty of time to shop for less appropriate things after the Judgement. After she Claimed me.

Pleasant thoughts of what those items might be partially occupied my mind while I navigated the roads to the shopping district and pulled into the first parking spot I found downtown.

“Ready?” I asked.

She nodded, her attention on the buildings and people surrounding us. I got out and jogged around the front of the car to open the door for her. People already going about their day crowded the sidewalks.

Olivia got out slowly, her head turning left and right as she took in the busy street.

“I’ve never seen so many people. The ones at Blake’s complex tended to avoid me. And on the way to your home, Frank had stuck to the highways and mostly avoided the cities.”

The expression on her face didn’t quite look like wonder, though.

“And what do you think of it?” I asked.

“It’s so loud.”

I grinned.

“It is. But, sometimes loud is good.”

I threaded my fingers through hers and led her along the busy sidewalk. At the first coffee shop, I pulled her in and ordered us drinks to help keep her hand warm. Her first tentative sip and the surprise on her face made me ache to wrap her in my arms. Only the wounds on her back, not her warning to behave, stopped me.

“You like it?” I asked.

“I love it.”

“Come on. Let’s find out what else we can try.” We walked further and found a bakery. The smells coming from that place made my mouth water and reminded me of Olivia’s sweet scent. I led her inside and studied all the treats.

“There’s a lot here,” I said. “This one has a name I can’t say. It looks like a tiny pie, but not the kind with the slanted sides. This one’s sides go straight up and down. It has a fancy swirl of whipped cream on it and something stuck into it that looks like a cookie. It looks good. The one next to it…I have no idea what the card says, but it looks like someone had trouble with a layered biscuit and kind of balled it up in frustration. I’d still eat it, though.”

Olivia’s hand jerked in mine, and I glanced at her. She had her other hand over her mouth to stop from laughing aloud. The kid on the other side of the glass display case was looking at me with a mix of hesitation and mirth. I grinned and kept going, describing every pastry I saw inside the case to Olivia.

When I finished, I ordered a bear claw, the only thing I could pronounce without sounding like an idiot, then turned to Olivia.

“What do you want to try?” I asked.

“You pick for me. But not a bear claw. I’ll try yours.”

I liked that she knew I’d share with her.

“Do you like sweet or savory?” I asked.

“Both.”

I turned to the man waiting on us.

“Can you choose three more for us? Whatever you would recommend.”

When we had our four pastries, I led her to a free table. Instead of setting her plate in front of her, I kept it by me and lifted the first pastry.

“Ready?” I asked.

She leaned forward and took a bite of what I offered.

“Mmm. That’s good.”

I turned the pastry and bit where she had, eating half the concoction. The subtle hint of her taste coated my tongue and hit me hard. I nearly groaned on the spot and gripped the table with my free hand, trying to control my need to toss the pastry aside and pull Olivia into my lap.

Struggling, I reached out to the only person likely to understand.

What did it feel like the first time you drank out of Michelle’s glass? I sent Emmitt.

Heaven. Like I was finally close to her, even if only for a second. Why are you asking?

Just took a bite out of Olivia’s pastry.

Are you okay? The worry he felt came through with the message.

No. My pants feel ten sizes too small, and I’m fighting not to jump across the table and bring her to the ground. It’s so intense I don’t think I can speak out loud. I’m sitting here with a wad of food in my mouth, claws jabbing the underside of the table, and a throbbing—

But no pain? Emmitt sent.

Yes, there’s pain. Do I need to clarify the pants feeling too small?

I mean the pain you felt as an Elder.

None.

“Do I get another bite?” Olivia asked, smiling slightly.

With a shaking hand, I extended the pastry toward her and hoped no one would notice my nails. She took another dainty bite and licked her lips. A soft whoosh of air escaped me like I’d been hit.

I’m asking because this doesn’t feel right. I was there when you were struggling with Michelle. I smelled your desperation and your interest. This is more. A lot more. Like I’d die if I tried walking away from her just then; but I didn’t tell Emmitt that.

Maybe your feelings are more intense because you’re an Elder, he sent back.

Maybe.

“Don’t you want any more?” Olivia asked.

I forced myself to chew twice before I tried swallowing. The food barely went down.

“Yes. More you.”

She blushed, a pretty pink to match her sweater and reached out to steal the pastry from my hand.

“You can’t have me,” she said. “I thought we’d established that.”

“That’s what you say, but I think your Lady has different ideas.”

She froze, her hand partway to her mouth. All the color drained from her face. Her scent soured with panic and fear. The combination killed the swell of desire riding me.

“Why does that scare you?” I asked. “I thought you felt the pull toward me, too.”

“I do.” This time it was her hand shaking as she put the pastry down.

“I don’t understand, then. Did I misread something? The way you hugged me, I thought…”


 

OLIVIA…

 

My heart was breaking. No, not breaking. That had happened the moment Jim had gotten ice for me. The moment I’d realized how kind and amazing he really was.

He sat across from me now, waiting for an answer.

“You’re not wrong, Jim. I do feel the pull, and I am interested in you. I only misunderstood what you meant.”

He tilted his head. I’d confused him further, now.

“What did you think I meant?” he asked.

“Remember those deep dark secrets? You know I have them. What I thought you meant relates to those secrets, and I’m not ready to talk about them yet.” I sat still waiting for his response, hoping I hadn’t just said too much.

Jim exhaled a long breath and relaxed in his chair.

“Fair enough.”

The Others swirled around him as he split the pastries in half. He didn’t seem mad, but I couldn’t help but wonder why else he no longer wanted to feed me from the whole pastry.

“We’re not sharing?” I asked.

“Oh, I want to. Too much. But maintaining control is difficult with the taste of you on my tongue.”

The way he said it sent a thrill of need and sorrow through me. Making a choice, I focused on the need. I wanted the good memories he’d promised. Reaching across the table, I offered my hand. He took it, his warm touch a comfort as he gave my hand a brief squeeze then fed me another bite of pastry. While I chewed, he took a bite from his own half.

We finished the rest of our treats in silence. Every bite another memory to hold onto. And I would hold them. Forever.

Once we finished, he threw away our trash then offered me his hand again. We left the bakery and walked together down the busy sidewalk.

For the next several hours we wandered, he described the buildings, the people, and city life to me. His words painted a wonderful picture. He gave definition to the vague shapes I’d seen my whole life. He wasn’t just giving me a few favorite moments; he was giving me thousands because each moment spent with him was a new favorite. I drank in his attention, wishing it could be like this forever. But, I knew reality waited and wouldn’t be denied for much longer.

“Should we go back?” I asked after he finished describing an outfit on a window mannequin.

“Are you afraid I’ll drag you inside?”

“No. I’m worried we’re spending too much time having fun and not enough trying to help Bethi figure out—”

The finger he set on my mouth invited trouble. I opened my mouth and nipped him. He grunted and tugged me closer. My insides heated as his fingers swept over my cheek and down the sides of my neck, a gentle, fond caress.

“Grey says that Bethi and Isabelle drove closer to the mountains. They’re spending some time getting rid of Bethi’s fear and just talking. When they’re on their way back, we’ll head back, too.

“And, since you’re not afraid, let’s go inside. I think you need some new clothes.”

I half-laughed, because I knew I didn’t, but let him lead me in anyway. Racks of clothes filled the large space. The Others didn’t spend too much time swirling around the clothes but did move around the people. Several shoppers moved in the main space. Another person stood off to the side near a counter. One stood near the door where we’d entered.

“There’s nothing interesting in the front. Let’s go to the back,” Jim said, uncharacteristically non-descriptive as he tugged me forward.

“What do you see?” I asked.

“Dresses, but not good ones.”

The person near the door clicked her tongue in annoyance.

“Since you’re a man, I doubt you’d find any dress good enough,” I said to mollify her.

“Not true,” Jim answered, ruining my attempt. “This one is perfect for you.”

He plucked something from a rack and held it up, calling the attention of the Others. They swirled around it, outlining the dress. There were no sleeves, just thick straps, and the front seemed to dip low.

“What color is it?” I asked. My fingers brushed over the silky material. When I felt around to the back, Jim pulled it out of my reach.

“You should try it on,” he said.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea. My back is still sore.”

“Oh. Right. We’ll just get it then. And a swim suit. I’ll pick that out for you, too.”

I smothered my amusement.

“When do you think I’m going to wear either?”

“As soon as your back is healed. I’ll take you on a real date.”

“And a real date involves swimming?” I asked.

“If I’m extremely lucky, it does.”

I snorted and followed him as he looked at swim suits. The Others followed him, also, and outlined the suits enough to let me know the one he finally picked didn’t have much material to it. I’d never wear it, but I kept that to myself. He was having too much fun shopping for me to ruin it.

When we finished and paid, I thought he would say it was time to go back. Instead of calling it a day, he tugged me into another building.

The Others danced around the people in the restaurant, creating a mesmerizing display of movement to go with the mouthwatering smells coming from the kitchen.

“Table for two, please,” Jim said.

“Of course. It’s about a thirty-minute wait,” the host said.

“That’s fine.” Jim gave his name.

“If you’d like to go to the bar area, I’ll call you when your table’s ready.”

Jim took my hand and led me toward the long, curved bar off to one side of the dining area. The Others outlined the chair he held out for me. Not that I needed them. Jim gently guided me into the seat then ordered us both a beer.

“I’m guessing you’ve never had one before,” he said.

“You’d be correct. I’ve had wine, but no beer.”

“Yeah, Michelle described Blake’s dinners to us after a while. Beer’s better.”

When the bartender returned with a chilled glass, I took it, ready for my first sip. The beer bubbled on my tongue slightly. A hint of bitterness hit me. I swallowed, and the bitterness faded followed by a smooth aftertaste.

“Not bad,” I said.

“Not bad? Beer is the nectar of life.”

“I thought water was the nectar of life.”

“Whoever told you that lied and wanted you to suffer a life of sobriety.”

I snorted a laugh.

“You’re ridiculous.”

“Says the person who’s never been tipsy. Drink up, buttercup.”

I arched a playful brow and drank deeply, draining half my glass.

“And what will you do when I’m drunk, and you have to take me back to the hotel? Michelle told me this is your favorite way to get into trouble.”

“Nah, it’s my favorite way to show girls there’s more to life than what they thought.”

He leaned toward me. I held my glass and kept my focus forward.

“You’re already flushing from what you’ve drunk,” he said softly, near my ear. “A pretty pink that draws my eyes to your lips and makes me wonder what it would feel like to kiss you. What you’d taste like. You say I’m not supposed to think like this, but I can’t seem to think about anything else.”

I turned my head and found his face inches from mine.

“You promised,” I whispered.

“I did.”

He leaned back with a sigh and rubbed his chest.

“Are you hurting?”

“Yes. But not the way you mean.”

I blushed further and took another big drink from my glass, trying to ignore him and the insistent fluttering in my stomach. Several deep breaths calmed everything. Just in time, too, because we heard Jim’s name called from the side of the room. He helped me from my chair and held my hand, leading me while I carried my glass.

“Your server will be right with you,” the man said after he’d seated us at our table.

Not a moment later, another shape approached.

“Can I interest you in a new…”

I tilted my head and waited for more, unsure why he’d trailed off like that.

“Her pupils don’t work. She’s blind,” Jim said.

I blushed, understanding, and ducked my head in embarrassment.

“But she can hear just fine,” I whispered, annoyed with myself. How could I have forgotten? Because being with Jim, I felt normal. Whole.

“I’m sorry. It wasn’t your eyes, ma’am,” the man said. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone as pretty as you.”

I grinned but didn’t lift my eyes.

“Just tell us the specials,” Jim said impatiently, making me smile even wider.

The man rattled off several things then gave me a few recommendations from the menu. After we ordered and he went away, I focused on Jim.

“Are you frowning?” I asked.

“Maybe.”

“Pouting?”

“Yep.”

I laughed, feeling such pure happiness, I couldn’t contain it.

A sudden stab of rage right between my eyes made me wince and my stomach sink to my toes with dread. I stilled and turned my head, trying to sense Blake. He wasn’t as far away anymore.

I swore and reached for my phone, but Jim covered my hand.

“Leave it. Whatever you’re feeling from him can wait. This is supposed to be a fun afternoon just for you.”

The phone chirped. I frowned, confused.

“That can’t be Blake. He wouldn’t text. He knows I wouldn’t be able to read it.”


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