Love in an Undead Age, A.M. Geever [best contemporary novels txt] 📗
- Author: A.M. Geever
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“Are they always so outrageous?” Connor asked, tipping his head toward Doug and Karen, who bounded around the small dance floor like bouncy balls.
Miranda smiled over her gin and tonic. “Always. You should see them at weddings.”
“Were they ever a couple before he became a priest?”
“Seriously, Connor?”
“Oh, right.” Comprehension filled his voice. “He’s way too nice a guy for her.” He paused. “How about you?”
“Me and Doug?” she said, her voice squeaky with surprise. “No, though sometimes people thought so.” She watched Doug twirl Karen and Seffie at the same time. “And I used to worry he’d get all priest-y on me.”
She felt Connor’s torso shake more than heard his laughter. “You have nothing to worry about, Miri. The guy is out of control.”
Miranda nodded, fuzzily remembering what Doug had said earlier. Not rushing into anything made sense, yet she could not shake the feeling that doing nothing meant missing her chance. But what if Connor let her down? She didn’t think she could handle it. After Mario…she was not sure she deserved to be happy. She wasn’t sure she was capable of letting anyone get close to her, even if she wanted. What if she managed to let Connor in and he decided she was too fucked up?
“What are you frowning about?” Connor asked, his breath warm on her ear. His arm slid down around her shoulders.
“Nothing.”
He tipped her face up to look at his. She could tell he did not believe her.
“What’s wrong?”
His face was an open book, earnest and honest. This is a no-brainer, she thought, unable to stop herself from comparing him to Mario. Connor wasn’t perfect, but he’d never do what Mario had done. She felt it in her bones. Connor had broken her heart all those years ago, but only because he’d been young and clueless. It had not been malicious, though it had felt that way at the time. Connor hadn’t used her before smashing her soul into a million pieces and grinding them into dust. He had loved her all this time, and come so far to tell her, with no guarantee what the outcome might be.
A longing, sharp and bright, welled up inside her.
“Do you want to get out of here?”
An eternity of seconds passed before he answered, his question at odds with the desire that infused his gaze. “Are you sure? I don’t want this because you’re drunk.”
“I’m not that drunk. Let’s get out of here.”
He didn’t need telling twice. She held his hand tight as they wound their way through the bar. A heady mixture of relief and anticipation thrummed through her. She could easily pick out Doug, head and shoulders above the others on the dance floor. He led a laughing Seffie through a faux tango.
“Do you want to let them know we’re going?” Connor shouted over the music.
Miranda smiled at him and shook her head. “They’ll figure it out.”
Miranda nestled into the crook of Connor’s arm, her head on his shoulder. Earlier, Delilah had whimpered from exile on the floor until Miranda had gotten up to let her out. She stopped at the bathroom to pee and brush her teeth before crawling back into bed and Connor’s warm body. She had forgotten how warm he was. She smiled against his soft skin as he stirred beneath her. She had forgotten a lot of things, but he had reminded her with hands and lips and whispers in the dark.
“Hey, sleepyhead.”
Connor rolled onto his side to face her. Their noses almost touched. “Hey yourself.”
“Sleep okay?”
He grinned. “Eventually.”
Miranda felt a blush that started at her breastbone creep upward.
“I’ve managed to make Miranda Tucci blush,” Connor said as he kissed his way across her face. “She’s remembering all the terrible things I did that made her squeal like a little girl.”
“I do not squeal.”
Connor smirked, then ducked his head and made lazy circles around her nipple with his tongue. She squealed.
“Maybe I squeal a little,” she allowed, breathless. “But only when it’s done right.”
“Hopefully that means a lot more squealing in my future,” Connor murmured, his hands beginning to roam farther afield.
“I should really go to work.” She sighed.
Connor kissed his way up her neck and along her jaw. “Don’t be ridiculous.” She could tell from his tone he knew she was teasing. “It’s not every day you wind up in bed with me, and it must be almost noon, anyway.” He reached the hollow of her collarbone and, rolling onto his back, pulled her on top of him. “We didn’t get to sleep until at least five or six.”
“That’s true.”
Her aspect became serious as she looked down at him. She smoothed his hair back from his eyes, dark-brown eyes she could lose herself in. His lazy smile was suffused with sleepiness and desire. She felt like she was falling into a chasm, into the landscape of tender feelings she worked so hard to keep under wraps, locked away where they could not hurt or betray her.
“It’s okay, Miri,” Connor said softly, brushing her cheek. “Just be here with me.”
A rush of affection swelled her heart. She kissed him and forgot about everything else.
Mario jabbed his phone. Whoever kept calling was not getting the hint that he was unavailable, and anyone who had this number knew this was his day at the lab. Only Emily called him here, and only if it was an emergency.
“What?” he snapped.
“I’ve been trying to get hold of you for half an hour,” his brother’s voice bellowed. “I was just about to come over.”
“This better be good, Dom. I’m in the middle of something here, at the lab.”
“The Navy intercepted a small ship outside the Golden Gate. It was smuggling post-bite with no customs stamps.”
The floor seemed to fall out from under Mario.
“What?”
“I don’t know more. I’m on my way to Council Chambers now.”
“They think it was stolen from here?”
There was a pause before his brother answered. “Where else would it be from?”
“That’s not what I meant,” Mario said. “Just, how?”
“You tell me. They were sailing out of Santa Cruz, which doesn’t make any sense. Why take it south only to go north again?”
Mario couldn’t breathe. From Santa Cruz with no customs stamps?
“Mario, are you still there?”
“Yeah,” Mario said, trying to keep his voice even. He could hear the rev of the engine from Dominic’s car. “They must be lying about where they sailed from.”
“That’s what I thought. We need your people to start an inventory to find out what batch it was from. Then get to chambers as soon as you can.”
“Of course,” Mario said, willing his voice and breathing to return to normal. I’ll need to doctor the logs, he thought, mind racing. How the hell had this happened?
“There’s one more thing, Mar,” Dominic said. “We have information we can move on now, known associates. Three of them used to work for the Farm. We’re going to bring Miranda in.”
Mario’s stomach clenched as if to ward off a blow. He grabbed the edge of the lab table, almost dropping the phone in the process. His stomach heaved so hard he thought he was going to be sick.
“Mario? Are you there?”
Mario looked at his hand that held the phone. It buzzed with his brother’s voice. “I’m here, Dom.”
“I didn’t want you to hear it from anyone else.”
“I understand,” he said more smoothly. “I’ll get the inventory review started.”
“Are you sure you’re okay?”
“It was a long time ago, Dom. There’s no love lost between me and Miranda.”
“Okay then,” Dominic said, his relief evident even as a disembodied voice. “I’ll see you soon.”
Mario was out the lab door before the call ended. He had to find Miranda before they did.
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