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Damn, she must feel it. I’m not sure what I’ll do if this attraction is one-sided.
chapter
five
Verity
I start my morning as I always do, with an hour of yoga, a cup of yogurt, and a glass of orange juice. I ignore the invasive memories of my dreams. Dreams focused explicitly on Gideon and what he might be hiding in those snug trousers. All was revealed in my dreams, but I have no way of knowing if my imagination is accurate. And I have no plans to find out.
Or so I tell myself.
We had to delay our subsequent meeting at the Supernatural Library for a few days because Gideon had a work emergency that needed handling. I’m not going to lie; I was disappointed when I received his text to reschedule that first morning. Then those two days became two weeks as he had to leave town.
But he hasn’t been far from my thoughts since our lunch. Of course, he texts me regularly to ask me inane questions about my day or life or to send me screenshots of portions of the manuscript. To say the man—monster—is tempting me like a practiced seducer would be a huge understatement.
And that’s only talking about the book I’m dying to get my hands on.
But then there’s Gideon himself, who has proven himself nearly as tempting as an ancient, mythological text. He’s affected my dreams and my ability to concentrate during the day. I think I miss him. Which doesn’t make a whole lot of sense since we don’t know each other well, and we’ve only been in the same space together—physically speaking—two times.
I do know I’m physically attracted to him. I think I’d have to be dead not to be. He’s ridiculously sexy and charming. Not to mention the way he smells. I’m assuming it’s some kind of allure that Gorgons release because his pheromones make me want to rub my body against his. I’m not exactly bold when it comes to matters of the flesh, so I don’t think I would actually do that. But truthfully, I can’t be certain. He smells that good. His draw on me is that strong.
I can’t help but wonder if he feels it, too, or if this is simply my humanness reacting to his species-specific magic or whatever.
The plan is to meet Gideon at his house today, but I’m stalling for several reasons. One of those reasons is that page I thought about the moment my eyes opened. Something about that particular page from his last screenshot caught my attention, but I’m unsure why exactly.
I unlock my phone and swipe to the correct image. I zoom in and look at each corner of the page before moving on to the actual text. But the image quality isn’t good enough to pinpoint what’s scratching at my brain. I’ll have to look closer when I’m at Gideon’s house.
With that thought, I force myself to cease my foolish stalling and get my ass to his house. I plug Gideon’s address into my mapping app and leave my apartment. Once again, I’m struck by the scenery surrounding me as I drive through the downtown area toward the city limits.
Fable Forest is a lovely village-type town nestled amidst lush green hills and verdant valleys. It’s literally the most beautiful place I’ve ever seen, and living here feels like such a treat. That it happens to be the single place in the world richest in ancient texts and tomes is a bonus.
Okay, that’s not exactly true. While getting my advanced linguist degrees, I knew I wanted to move somewhere I had access to the types of books I wanted to research and work with. So I would have moved here regardless of what it looks like. It's a happy accident that it’s so damn pretty.
I follow the robotic-voiced directions to Gideon’s house. Or should I say estate? I thought the Lancasters were wealthy, but evidently, they’re from the more modest part of town. The large wrought-iron gates protecting the drive to Gideon’s house are my first clue that he might be different than my usual clients.
Obviously, the fact that he’s my client and not a child is the main difference. And I’m not teaching him anything. Frankly, this work I’m doing for him is what I envisioned myself doing when I started down this path. Tutoring young monster children was not part of my plans, but I’ve loved every minute.
I lean out my car window and press the call button on the keypad outside the gate. There’s a beep, and then the massive gates start to open. They creak and moan with every sliding move and then come to a stop. I pull through, following the winding drive until it circles in front of a massive castle-like structure.
It's a sprawling mansion kinda like what AI would make if you asked it to set Beauty and Beast in the mansion from Downton Abbey—a grand home that can’t quite decide if it’s gothic or Greek revival in design.
I’ve barely put my sensible sedan in park when I look up to see Gideon standing on his front step. He’s barefoot and looks sinful in his low-slung jeans and a tight t-shirt that molds to his barrel chest like a greedy lover. Those amber-colored eyes watch my every move as I step from my car, my messenger bag slung over my shoulder.
“Cozy little house you have here,” I say.
He chuckles. The rich sound does wicked things to my body, hardening my nipples and dampening my panties.
“Verity.” He says my name as if merely the word itself brings him pleasure. “Did you have any trouble finding the place?”
“No. My map app took me straight here.” I rock back on my heels.
He reaches over, grabs my bag, and leads me into his house. “You don’t have a Lurch to answer your doors?”
Again, he chuckles. That sound is rapidly becoming one of my favorites. “No Uncle Fester, either.”
“Addams Family fan?”
He lifts a large shoulder in a shrug. “I actually preferred The Munsters, but Wednesday was cute. Just not as cute as Cousin Marilyn.”
