Page 34 of Too Cursed To Kiss
Naked as the bar of soap on the tile shelf, I stepped into the crazy cross-sprays from the walls. It was like showering in a car wash. The shampoo was scented with something between forest greens, mowed lawn, and crushed berries. A damn weird scent for a guy like Wald, but it foamed in the right places. Clean and dripping, I twisted knobs until the water stopped, freezing myself with one of the last handles. I reached out for a towel and found one had been thrown over the door.
“What the hell? Get out.” I hugged myself as I grabbed the towel and wrapped it around me, then opened the shower door ready for a fight. The bathroom was empty. Rushing to the door, I slid on the tile, grabbing the door handle for support. It was locked from the inside, just as I had left it. Did he have a key?
Keeping a side eye on the door, I admired the over-sized towel that actually allowed me to wrap it around me without the danger of it falling off. I dried my hair with a second black towel, then, I filled the sink and dropped my underwear in it.In about fifteen minutes, I had cleaner, dryish underwear and almost non-frizzy hair. I got dressed and a whiff of the lingering mowed grass hit me. Did he wash all his hair in it? That singular thought turned me wetter than the shower.
Stop it, Harlan, this will not improve your situation.
Tugging the straps of the sundress, I threw on my boots and unlocked the door.
Wald had his back to me, doing something with the bed that was blocked by the curtains on the four-poster.
“Did you give me the towel?”
“Towel?” he asked, turning. I gasped. On the bed was the most amazing collection of sexy club wear I’d seen outside of magazines. Two corselettes, a leather skirt, a leather jacket covered with chrome, and a long dress with a deep square neckline slit up the front with a red gusset from hem to bra-line. A red satin bra with corset detail, a black shrug jacket with red velvet ruffles, and a pair of fishnets.
“Where the hell did you get all this?” I held up the black corselette. “I thought you liked pink?”
“He does. I like black and red,” Britannia replied. I swear to God she hadn’t been in the room a moment before.
“Where the fuck did you come from?” I asked as my brain caught up. “Hell no, I am not wearing Britannia’s clothing. I draw the line.” I tossed the corselette back onto the bed and crossed my arms.
Wald flashed a rakish grin. “It’s only temporary. I’ll buy you some lacey pink things along the way.”
My blood boiled and I wanted to stomp out, but where the hell would I go? “Since I’m obviously not getting a vote, both of you get out, while I find something wearable in this pile of ragged cast-offs.”
Britannia shot me a withering look but allowed Wald toherd her out the door. I locked it behind them, rushed over to the bed, and fondled everything.
The leather skirt and the black and red shrug were better suited for a vampire dance club than a ride in a stolen car to Vegas, but they fit. Paired with the low cut V-neck shirt, the red satin of the bra showed underneath. The shirt really needed a vial of blood hanging between my breasts for full effect. I chuckled as I carefully pulled on my boots over the fishnets.
Britannia was a bitch, but I had to admit she nailed the emo-goth aesthetic, and obviously had an exorbitant credit limit. I felt damn sexy. Still, when someone knocked on the door, my stomach did a double flip. It wasn’t pink, but I was hoping Wald would like the aesthetic. I unlocked the door and stepped back, striking a pose.
The door flung open, and Britannia strutted through in an outfit I would have given my left kidney for. It was exactly the kind of thing I would love to wear if money was no object, a silky black catsuit underneath a red plaid miniskirt. Close to the skin, held in the hanging-out bits, and made movement easy.
“No need to show me your goods. I’m not interested,” she said, flinging a black duffel onto the bed. “Wald asked me to come get you. He’s got the car packed, and it’s time for us to leave.”
“Wait, us?” I turned to Britannia. “Hell no. You’re not coming.”
She smirked at me, a hand on her hip. “Wald and I kissed and made up. Think you can find your way to the garage?” she asked, striding away before I could reply.
I used every curse word I could come up with while stuffing her clothing into her suitcase. I threw in the sundressand the pink bra, as well as my leggings. Shrugging my leather jacket over the bolero made my outfit less drafty.
When I got to the door, I was suddenly nostalgic. At some point, I might not remember this room or the things that might have happened in it. The bookcase I’d perused was stacked two deep with books on mysticism and thaumaturgy—and a much thumbed copy ofThe Golden Asswhich I’d chuckled over. I turned to give a wistful last glance at the enormous, curtained bed that should have belonged to a lord or a duke. The carvings were antique and beautifully depicted leaves and animal heads. The gold mirror over the dresser was positioned so you could see the pillows on the bed. All the furniture had the feel it had been chosen to be here and had history. Had Wald selected them himself? A fly-fishing rod was mounted to the wall in the corner. That was it. Patience. Wald had patience and a core of stillness. Like he could stop in time and savor it. I envied that. Since my aunt died I’d been in constant motion to pay bills, eat, and keep a roof over my head. Stopping to breathe, I imagined a strong mountain stream and a future that held that kind of stillness. Holding that flicker of what that might be like, I shouldered the duffel and walked into the hall.
When I got to the stairs, Victoria was standing on the landing.
“Harlan, I’m glad I caught you before you left. I want you to give this to Agatha for me. She’ll understand. Please don’t show it to Britannia, for she will not understand.” Her violet eyes crinkled at the edges and the waves of her coiffed hair trailed over the shoulders of a lavender cardigan. Her delicate hand touched mine, and I raised an open palm. She placed a leather box in it, and then she began to fade as if she were the outline of water, and then she disappeared altogether.
“Holy crap.” The duffel slid off my shoulder, and I grabbed the stair rail to steady myself. I looked down at the leather box in my hand. Old and black with powdery brown edges. Large enough for a pendant, but with some heft to it.
Britannia appeared at the bottom of the stairs. I turned so she couldn’t see, stuffing the box into my jacket pocket while I picked up the duffel.
“Wald is about to leave without you,” she taunted.
“Not bloody likely,” I said under my breath, racing down the stairs.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Bursting with unsettled energy, I walked into the garage. I hadn’t decided how, but the rest of whatever was ahead was going to be on my terms or not at all. Britannia smirked from the shotgun seat as Wald messed around in the back of the black SUV. The pressure in my head ratcheted up to explosive, and my ears were probably the color of flaming beets as I walked up to the car.
