Home > Meant to Be Immortal (Argeneau #32)(17)

Meant to Be Immortal (Argeneau #32)(17)
Author: Lynsay Sands

CJ eyed his relaxed pose briefly, and then cleared her throat and said, “I just realized you don’t have a toothbrush or anything else with you. There’s nothing we can do about that at the moment, but I left mouthwash and my hairbrush in there for you, and we’ll make a run to the drugstore in the morning, and maybe to Walmart for some clothes,” she told him as he sat up and slid his legs to the floor to stand. CJ heard his “Thank you” when she finished, but was already hurrying out of the room and pulling the double doors closed between them.

Pausing in the middle of the salon, CJ pressed her free hand to one cheek and closed her eyes. She’d rushed out of there like her butt was on fire, and all because he’d stood up. But the man had the most bizarre effect on her. The moment he’d stood, the room had suddenly felt tiny and hot and he’d seemed much closer than he had been while lying down. Worse yet, she’d wanted to get closer still and had actually started to take a step toward him before she’d caught herself and turned to leave instead, hurrying for the door with a loud alarm ringing in her head.

Damn. She didn’t need this complication, and would be glad to be relieved of the man. Why on earth had she offered to take him to Walmart in the morning? The drugstore had been bad enough, but Walmart? Compassion was the answer. Seeing him there stretched out in his pajama bottoms and T-shirt had made her realize those were his only clothes too, and compassion had made her offer to help rectify that.

Shaking her head at her own stupidity, CJ promised herself to can the compassion and think before she spoke in future. Otherwise, she’d never be rid of the man. Tomorrow, after taking him shopping, he would be Captain Dupree’s problem and she could concentrate on talking to Jefferson and arrange to meet up with Keith Kaye, the young man who’d launched the complaint against him. Then she’d get the hell out of Sandford and head home and never have to see the man again.

“A good thing,” CJ assured herself in a whisper.

Ignoring the disappointment that part of her felt at the very idea, she set her suitcase aside, made sure the cot was right up against the suite door, and climbed in. The old mattress wasn’t as uncomfortable as CJ had feared, and much to her surprise she was soon drifting off to sleep.

Seven

It was a child’s laughter that woke CJ in the morning. The high, light sound was followed by a soft shushing and a deep voice admonishing the child to be quiet or she’d wake up the other guests.

It was too late to prevent that. CJ opened her eyes to glance around the salon. Morning sunlight was pouring through the large window by the table. It was enough to make her cast a quick look at the wall clock, which told her that it was a little after nine o’clock in the morning. CJ almost groaned and rolled over to go back to sleep, but the bang of a screen door closing changed her mind. Tossing the sheet and blanket aside, she got out of bed and then stood there to stretch and yawn before turning in a small circle to consider what to do first.

Normally, she would head straight into the bathroom, but that option was out today. She wasn’t willing to try to sneak through the bedroom and risk waking Mac.

Blowing her breath out on a sigh, CJ ignored her body’s needs and quickly stripped the small cot, folding the blanket and sheets as she removed each. She then folded the cot itself up into its storage state, retrieved her suitcase, grabbed her keys off the table, and slipped from the room. She had to go to the bathroom badly now, and since she wasn’t willing to wake Mac up to do it, she’d have to use one of the other bathrooms in the house.

CJ took the time to lock the bedroom door and then headed down the hall to the other bathroom on this floor. She didn’t encounter anyone on the way there, though she could hear the low murmur of voices from somewhere downstairs. Much to her relief the bathroom was empty when she reached it, though there was evidence it had been well-used. Toiletries and several wet towels gave that away.

CJ turned on the water in the shower to let it warm up while she relieved herself, then hopped under the spray and—aware that she was leaving Mac alone and unprotected in her room—took the quickest shower she’d had in her life. Truly, she washed her hair, barely ran soap over her body, rinsed, and got out. She dried even more quickly, and was probably more wet than dry as she slid into clean clothes. That was followed by a swift brushing of her teeth with one hand, while running a hairbrush through her wet tresses with the other, before rinsing her mouth, spitting, and quickly tying her hair back in a ponytail using a scrunchie.

CJ stopped a moment then to consider her reflection in the mirror and moaned aloud. Her skin was pale and splotchy from the hot shower she’d taken, except under her eyes where dark smudges attested to her lack of sleep. Muttering under her breath, she took another moment to apply a bit of concealer under each eye to make herself look less like a raccoon and then paused to stare at herself again.

Some part of CJ wanted to pull out all her makeup and give herself a good going-over—blush, eyeliner, the whole nine yards—but in the end, she merely ran a pale pink lipstick over her lips and called it done. She wasn’t trying to impress or attract anyone, so this would do, she lectured herself as she put everything away and left the room, dragging her suitcase behind her.

There was no one in the hall. CJ made her way back to her suite and was unlocking the door before she realized that the murmur of voices below that she’d heard earlier was gone. That made her stop to listen, but then the bedroom door was pulled open and she whirled to see Mac standing there, a questioning expression on his face.

“I heard the key in the door, but it did not open,” he explained when she stared at him blankly. “Is your key not working?”

“Oh.” CJ gave herself a shake and forced a smile. “No. I just . . .” She waved vaguely along the hall, but stepped inside and closed and locked the door. “I could hear people talking downstairs when I left the room, but just noticed I couldn’t hear it anymore on my way back,” she explained, and realized that probably made no sense, but he apparently understood.

“Two or three vehicles left a few minutes ago,” he told her.

Probably while she was in the shower, CJ reasoned, and relaxed as she looked over Mac. His hair was ruffled and morning stubble covered his cheeks, but while he’d got no more sleep than her, he didn’t have dark shadows under his eyes. He did appear pretty pale, though, deathly so in comparison to her, she thought, but he’d been pale since she’d met him. Besides, even pale as death he looked adorable, she acknowledged, and then pushed the thought from her mind.

“Well, I just slipped out to use the bathroom down the hall rather than wake you, so the bathroom here is all yours if you want to take a shower or something. Then we can we go downstairs for coffee and whatever delight Mrs. Vesper has planned for breakfast.”

Mac ran a hand down the dark stubble on his cheeks and made an expression of distaste, but shook his head. “Showering and then putting on these clothes again would be a waste. I will wait on that. But I do need a moment.”

“Sure,” CJ said agreeably, and watched him retreat to the bedroom and the bathroom beyond.

While she waited, CJ recalled her phone and walked over to pick it up and check it for messages. There were none, but the battery was also low, she noted, and scowled as she realized she’d forgotten to plug it in. Hopefully, she wouldn’t have any calls to make, she thought as she slipped it into her purse. Slinging it over her shoulder, she walked to the window and peered out at Mrs. Vesper’s front yard. The house was probably built around the same time as the farmhouse Mac had rented . . . maybe a hundred years ago or so. A fancy black wrought iron fence surrounded it, and a two-foot-deep garden filled with flowers of every variety followed the fence all the way around the yard except where the gate was. The flowers weren’t separated in any way. It wasn’t like there was a patch of roses here and a patch of something else next to it. It was as if Mrs. Vesper had bought twenty different varieties of flower seeds, mixed them in a bowl, and then just sprinkled them around and through the garden. It was something CJ had never seen before. It was beautiful chaos.

“All set.”

Turning, CJ smiled faintly at Mac. He looked the same as when he’d left except that his hair was a little smoother and damp in spots. He’d obviously run wet fingers through it to try to tame it. He’d also used her mouthwash, she noted as she joined him to leave the room, and smelled the minty freshness of his breath. That made her realize that she hadn’t used mouthwash. She almost turned back to go give her mouth a rinse, but in the end decided she’d brushed and that was good enough.

“There you are!” Mrs. Vesper greeted them cheerfully from her position at the stove as they joined her in the kitchen moments later. “I thought I heard you two moving around upstairs, so I started making your breakfast. And you will eat it, young man,” the older woman said firmly, glaring at Mac. “You look ready to faint on us. Sit down.”

Much to CJ’s surprise, Mac obeyed and sat at once, positioning himself at the opposite end of the table, about as far away as he could get from the older woman and CJ, who had approached her. She’d meant to ask what she could do to help, but instead found herself frowning as she looked Mac over. She’d noted upstairs that he was pale this morning, but now she saw that his hands were balled into fists and his jaw was clenched. Both were signs of either anger or pain in her experience. In this case, she suspected pain.

“Are you all right?” she asked, leaving Mrs. Vesper’s side to move toward him.

“Yes, I just—” He lunged out of his seat, backing away from her, as he finished, “I just need some air.”

In the next moment, he’d turned on his heel and walked out of the kitchen. CJ followed in time to see him walk out the back door, but when he made a beeline for the police car parked beside her own vehicle, she decided Dandridge could keep an eye on him, and returned to the kitchen to see if Mrs. Vesper needed any help.

“I think that boy is anemic,” Mrs. Vesper announced as CJ rejoined her. “That or he didn’t get out of the fire as well as we thought. Maybe his lungs were damaged by the smoke and he’s not getting enough oxygen.”

   
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