- Home
- C. A. Storm
A Glassy Lady: Coeur de Lyon: A Renaissance Flair 2 Page 14
A Glassy Lady: Coeur de Lyon: A Renaissance Flair 2 Read online
Page 14
The afternoon passed in a blur, until finally it was time for her to get ready for her date. Not wanting to disturb the boys, who were currently watching some movie on Netflix that involved men in spandex and armor fighting some army of robots or something over her head. Leaving Erik in charge, asking him to keep an eye on the oven, Harper grabbed some clothes and disappeared into the thankfully full-sized bathroom, pausing only long enough to grab her phone and headset.
Closing the door behind her, Harper tried to still her racing heart as she put tucked her headset into her ear. Thumbing on her phone, she pressed the button to pull up Bard’s contact information, feeling a spurt of heat race through her chest at the sight of his handsome face grinning at her, eyes gleaming from behind his loose bangs.
Activating the call, she held her breath as it rang.
“Heya, darling. What’s up?” His voice was husky and warm, and Harper could see the flush on her cheeks as she stared at herself in the mirror. It was hard to believe the rosy-cheeked, wide-eyed, grinning girl in the mirror was the acknowledged Bitch Queen of Atlanta’s legal halls.
“Bard, I was just calling to…” No, that was the old Harper, the one she was trying to leave behind. With a laugh and a shake of her head, Harper said, “Right, I actually just wanted to hear your voice, but figured I’d check and make sure that we were still on tonight?”
She may have held her breath, and crossed her fingers, on both hands, and her toes, of both feet, as she waited for his response.
His warm chuckle had her toes curling for entirely different reasons. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world, darling. That pack of wild wolves I reluctantly call my family couldn’t keep me away.”
The relief she felt escaped in a breathless giggle. She slapped her hand over her mouth and stared at herself in horror. Inside, her inner Bitch Queen was shrieking like the Wicked Witch had just stepped outside into a torrential downpour. Clearing her throat, fighting the foolish grin twitching at her lips, Harper finally managed to respond.
“Yeah, well, you keep the big, bad wolves away and I’ll try and keep the wicked witches away. Deal?”
“Ah, darling,” his voice slid even lower, deep and velvety, and Harper would swear he had just reached through the phone and stroked his fingers down her spine. “That sounds like a deal then. My oath on it!”
That growled vow vibrated through her, on an unerring and blazing path direct to the very core of her being. The intensity of that sudden gush of liquid heat was unreal, unlike anything she had ever felt before, and she must have gasped aloud, because she swore she heard a low, masculine chuckle come from the other end of the phone.
Struggling to regain her composure, particularly since there was an entire pack of young boys on the other side of the bathroom door, Harper managed to say, “Right, in that case, I have a pack of hungry pups I’m going to load up with cookies and cake before I start getting ready.” Yeah, those boys were all shifters, there was no way she was going out there until after she showered. “I’ll see you at six?”
“I’ll be there,” he promised instantly, and she felt a part of her that had dreaded this was all just some kind of dream, again, relax.
“See you then, Bard.” She didn’t want to let him go, she loved hearing his deep, rich voice. She laughed off the silly thought. She’d be seeing him soon enough!
“Okay, it shouldn’t be difficult to disconnect the phone.” Maybe admitting it aloud wasn’t part of the ‘Play Hard to Get’ handbook, but Harper wasn’t interested in playing that particular game. Nope, she had an annwyl to claim! “I’ll see you tonight, sweetie. Bye!”
Clicking off her headset to disconnect the call, Harper tugged it off her ear and leaned against the counter. Meeting her eyes once more in the mirror, Harper shook her head and told her, “Girl, you’re fucked.”
If we’re lucky! Hunh, that might have been the first time both the Bitch Queen and the Southern Belle had ever agreed on anything.
Stripping out of her clothes, she let them fall where they would as she stepped into the shower cubicle. Normally, she would wait until the water had warmed up, but this time, she needed that cold spray to cool her engines!
GASP!
Shoving her fist into her mouth to stifle the shriek as the icy water splashed over her heated flesh, Harper jumped out of the cubicle.
Okay, I’m awake!
Once she was satisfied the water was finally hot enough, she stepped back in. She gave herself only a few minutes to just luxuriate in the steamy spray, but as she found her thoughts turning towards thoughts of Bard’s naked body, sweaty and wearing only that kilt—that man could make even a leather skirt sexy—she quickly turned her mind to the task at hand. Briskly and efficiently, she finished her shower.
Stepping out, as she plugged in her hair dryer to give her thick mane a thorough brushing, as her eyes slid downwards, she was truly glad she had splurged a few years ago for laser hair removal and now only had to go in for a touch-up treatment about once a year. She had gone a few weeks ago, so she was still good-to-go!
She had already pulled out the closest thing she had to “casual” but comfortable clothes, a pair of designer jeans and a long, hooded shirt that laced up the sides in a vaguely medieval style, and truly emphasized her figure while also being semi-dressy. Paired with her low-heeled slouch boots, a chain belt, and her hair pulled into a neat braid, she felt confident she wouldn’t stand out too badly, no matter what they ended up doing for their date. Just in case, she also wore a set of lingerie she had purchased on a whim a couple of weeks ago.
Harper may never have been a Girl Scout, but she liked to be prepared for any eventuality anyways!
You know, “just in case.”
By the time she was done getting ready, the boys had finished up their movie, and Erik and Vinnie were struggling to keep the younger three from devouring all the cookies and cupcakes before they had fully cooled.
Clapping her hands, Harper called out, “Okay, okay, that’s enough of that. We made plenty, so why don’t you each have a cookie while we frost up the cupcakes, then we’ll pack you all up a tray so you can take them with you.”
Ignoring the groans, Harper firmly but laughingly, herded the three little ones away while she frosted up the cupcakes. Once she was done, she put the cookies in little bags, three cookies for each of them, and two cupcakes a piece set on a large party platter. Covering it with some cling wrap, she handed the entire tray to Erik with a smirk, “There you go. Payment for services rendered.”
Glancing around at the others, she quirked a brow, “I could probably use some more help around here, if you boys find yourselves looking for stuff to do and aren’t too busy.”
The boys quickly looked up at Erik, who after a few moments, and with a hesitation that tugged at Harper’s heart, he said in that rough, scratchy voice of his, “Yeah, we could probably help out around here, if we’re not a bother, and if Ace and Drey don’t have us doing anything…if you don’t think we’d be a problem?”
“No, you guys are definitely not a problem! I woefully underestimated how much work it’s going to take to get things going, and the Faire hasn’t even started!”
Tilting her head thoughtfully, she continued, “Any help you guys can offer would be greatly appreciated, as long as it doesn’t interfere with your studies or anything.”
“Studies?” Vinnie piped up, his eyes locked on the tray of cookies and cupcakes Erik was carrying down the stairs, “Man, we ain’t been studying anything except grifting, rifting, and glamouring.”
Following the boys as they trampled down the stairs, Harper grabbed her coat and purse, though she had to pause to try and translate Vinnie’s words. Nope, no luck. “Grifting, rifting, and glambamming?”
Erik cast Vinnie a disgusted glare before turning an abashed look towards Harper. “Grifting, you know? Running a scam? Tricking the Unaware.”
“Yeah,” Vinnie said with a wide grin, completely oblivious to Erik’s disgusted
look as he beamed up at Harper. “Rifting is jumping between this place and that place.” He blinked, obviously struggling to figure out how to explain it. “You know? Finding portals, knowing the Sanctuaries and the Laws, where to hide and where to not go.”
With a sigh, Erik nodded, “And glambamming is using glamour against humans and other supernaturals. Though, since we’re all pure wolves, we can’t do much of that, and we don’t know much about pack magic, so we just pay attention so we know how to avoid getting glambammed ourselves.”
Taken aback, Harper was about to comment, when she caught the subtle shake of Erik’s head. Figuring it was a battle worth taking up later, and it would be a battle she was already gearing up for, she gave Erik a small nod of acknowledgement.
Reaching the door outside, Harper instead chose to give each of the boys a quick hug of thanks. It was instinctive, an impulse even she couldn’t fully explain since she wasn’t exactly a touchy-feely type, but as each boy briefly stiffened then relaxed into her embrace, Harper felt a warm glow of success.
They didn’t know it yet, but Harper had just officially adopted them, and anyone who stood between her and her boys would find just how wicked a witch she could be!
Looking up, she caught sight of Bard strolling up the path. The setting sun cast his hair in a golden nimbus, and it was once more neatly pulled back into a neat tail. He was wearing a plaid shirt, which normally would have drawn a teasing comment about him and Sam shopping from the same catalogue, but the man made it look so much better than Sam could.
Sorry sister-of-my-heart, but while your chest is impressive, his shoulders and those arms win every time!
The man’s denim-clad legs were unreal, the thickness of his flexing thighs as his boots kicked up small puffs of dust, and the fabric was shiny from the strain of containing those muscular limbs. His black leather jacket and those cowboy boots only further enhanced his masculinity…or was it his raw, potent masculinity that enhanced his clothes?
Clothes may make the man, but this was a man who made those clothes!
When she caught the gleam in his eyes, and he gave her a small grin, one both boyishly sheepish and panty-dampening sexy at the same time, Harper knew she had finally found where she belonged.
And she had couldn’t have been happier than to have finally found her place.
Chapter 18
Bard watched as the five pups filed by. Oddly, neither he nor his wolf felt threatened by their presence around their mate, in territory they had marked and claimed. Not even the eldest of the pups, the one who was nearly an adult, the one whose alpha-born nature was already cloaked around him, were a threat of any kind.
As they walked by, each tilted their head slightly, ceding dominance without missing a beat as they continued, with the younger three blathering excitedly to each other while one of the older pups herded them away.
The scarred leader of the pups handed off the plate of cupcakes and cookies to the much shorter, but broader one, who was apparently in charge of the pups. Jerking his head to indicate they should move on, he waited until they were a good distance away before he turned to face Bard.
"Take care of her, sjef." The pup's expression was intent, his raspy voice pitched low as he briefly glanced back towards the cottage where Harper was waiting. "The Travelers decided to return this year for a reason."
Bard and his wolf went on alert.
"Do you know what's going on?" Bard asked, treating both the warning and the pup seriously.
With an abrupt shake of his head, the pup grimaced. "No, sjef, the elders are keeping things quiet, but Ace made sure to get us here and has warned everyone to keep an eye out."
"My oath, I'll keep her safe," Bard met the younger pup...no, the younger wolf's eyes. Reaching out, he wrapped his calloused hand around the young wolf's neck, pressing his forehead against the other man's as he forced him to meet his eyes. "And call me Bard. I'm neither sjef nor Alpha, just a wolf."
The younger wolf shuddered slightly, a faint whine slipping free at Bard's contact. Resting his forehead against Bard's, he visibly relaxed. Wolves were very tactile creatures, whether in lupine form or in their human flesh. It was all too obvious the younger wolf had been nearly starved of affection, had taken the mantle of guardian and leader of the younger pups, and had stood tall and firm; despite whatever life he had lived thus far.
Fuck, he's younger than I thought he was. Bard realized as he stared into the young wolf's exposed soul revealed in the flickering glow within those sky-blue eyes. His wolf was reflected in those eyes, and from the impressions of grief and anger he received from his bestial side, Bard knew this pup had been forced to mature early, to draw so heavily and so often on his inner wolf, just to survive, that he was forever changed in ways even Bard could not grasp.
Sadly, while wolves were touchy-feely, even amongst the same sex, and homosexuality was as common among natural wolves as it was amongst humans, there were many shifters that had embraced the more close-minded and prejudiced mindset of the communities they lived in. Even some members of his own pack, of his own breed, were vociferously vocal in their discomfort with the very idea.
Running a hand through his messy, spiky hair, the younger wolf smiled. Well, a little anyway, as the scars on his face twisted his lips into more of a grimace. "Yes, sje..." He ducked his head, "Bard. I'm Erik. Once Fenrirson, but now just Wolf. Erik Wolf."
Yeah, somehow Bard knew that. Knew that Erik was a Fenrisulfr. Just as he knew that as much as the Ulfhednar were disdainful of ergi, homosexuals, the Fernisulfr were vicious in cutting out anyone they viewed as weakening the pack. That an alpha-born male was homosexual? That would have been unbearable.
Bard gently rubbed the back of Erik's neck, holding him in a comforting grip. "Erik Wolf, you and your pack are under my protection now. Help me protect my mate. Help me protect you."
Erik's eyes widened in shock. A flash of desperate need. A gleam of tears. Giving an abrupt nod, Erik titled his head back, baring his throat fully. Bard leaned in, rubbing his cheek along the younger man's neck, while his wolf pressed against his skin, letting both wolf and man mark the pup as pack.
It wasn't an official claiming. Hel's twisted knickers, Bard was just another member of his family's pack, with no real position or power, but as far as any other shifter was concerned, Erik was protected.
Giving Erik a rough, friendly shake before releasing him, Bard chuckled, "Now off with you." Glancing over at Harper, finding her watching them with an arched eyebrow and open curiosity. Ruefully, Bard let the younger man go, "I think, I've got some explaining to do before I get to start the wooing."
With a shy grin, Erik ducked his head and padded off to catch up with his pack. Shaking his head in amusement as he watched the young man hurrying away, Bard turned back to Harper.
Even without having to think about it, he walked towards her, drawn towards her as the tides by the moon.
Catching her curious look, Bard rubbed the back of his neck and gave her a sheepish grin. “Wolf stuff,” he said by way of explanation.
“Ahhhh,” she said, and that word carried a wealth of amused understanding. Giving him a knowing nod, she watched him approach, approval written across her beautiful face.
Halting just out of arm’s reach, mostly because he wasn’t positive-certain he would be able to resist snatching her up in his arms, Bard shoved his hands in his pockets and rocked back on his heels.
“Good evening, darling,” he drawled with a wide grin as his gave his hungry eyes just enough freedom to give her a brief, but very thorough, scan. Man, every time I spend time around Hank, I start talking like a Texan. “You’re just too damned beautiful.”
“Are you making fun of my accent, sir?” Harper teased, though he noticed she cocked her hip just so as she likewise gave his tall frame a more thorough once over than the one he had allowed himself.
“Nah,” Bard shook his head. “Unfortunately, my buddy Hank is from Tennessee, and when I spend too m
uch time around him, my words get really lazy.”
Tell her she’s pretty. Bard’s wolf was pawing at him, eager to spend time with his mate.
I already did, Bard mentally responded with a psychic eye-roll towards the impatient beast. I got this! I don’t need any backseat dating advice!
With a grin, Harper closed the door to her shoppe and stepped down the step, and a little closer to him. “Well then, how shall we spend our first date?”
The wolf snorted. Kiss her. The wolf titled its head. A lot!
I’ll get to that. Bard promised both his wolf and himself.
Offering his hand, Bard swallowed back a happy groan as she trustingly placed her much smaller hand into his. He was a little surprised to find that her hands were almost as calloused as his were, covered with small nicks and cuts, but then again, despite her well-dressed and classy appearance, she was as much an artist as he was.
He tucked her hand in the crook of his arm, securing her beside him as he began to lead her towards the opposite side of the Village.
“Sadly, there’s not too many places open, and I figured the steakhouse up at the Château would be a bit busy, seeing as it’s one of the only five stars around here,” Bard said as he strolled with his mate. His mate! Mental fist pump! “But I made a few calls, called in a few favors…”
He paused, suddenly drawing up short and forcing Harper to stop. She looked up at him, worry darkening her features at his abrupt halt. “What is it, Bard?”
Feeling an embarrassed flush creeping up his cheeks, Bard cleared his throat. “I, uh…guess I made a few assumptions. I forgot to call you to see if there was anything you were allergic to, or anything you didn’t like. I guess I got a little too excited, and jumped the gun.”
Looking relieved, Harper patted his chest. “Aw, sweetie, that’s okay. We’re both probably a bit uncertain. This is just as new to me as it is to you.” This time, she was the one blushing, turning her face slightly away as she admitted, “I haven’t been on a date in a long time.”