When I woke up early in the afternoon, I was alone in the bedroom.

My cheeks immediately warmed at the memories but worry settled in when I listened and the entire house was silent.

Confused, I walked to the bathroom and found none of his clothes on the floor, the towel he’d wrapped me with neatly hung back on the rail.

I groaned.

I felt well rested as if I slept for eight hours instead of the actual four. My shoulder felt better and the slightly puckered skin had actually started to flatten to my amazement. I didn’t look like a total disaster when I checked myself on the mirror.

It wasn’t any of that. It was remembering how I once again lost my control with Tristan and why whenever I was on the verge of just surrendering to that insanity, he’d take a step back and pull away. He certainly seemed to have wanted me and I had stopped protesting.

I shook the questions out of my head and checked the clock. It was about two in the afternoon and my answering machine was flashing.

There were two calls. One was from Mary Anne reminding me of the barbecue party at Patrick’s after five. It was his dog Oliver’s birthday and he wanted to throw a little party for a handful of people. It was almost summer and because it was a season that never seem to last as long as we want, people here take every opportunity they have to enjoy the outdoors. Our winters were long and hard that there was always a sense of desperation to cling to the warmer months. 

The second call was from Jesse who sounded worried and asked if things were alright.

I frowned and hunted for my cellphone that was still in my purse on the living room couch. There were four missed calls from Jesse and a voicemail message just asking if things were okay.

I dialed him as I walked to the kitchen to get started on the pasta salad I was bringing to the barbecue.

“Ollie? Thank God!” were the first words out of his mouth when he picked up after the first ring.

“Why do you seem so worried?” I asked as I filled a pot with water and drizzled it with salt. Clipping the phone between my cheek and shoulder, I set the pot down on the stove. The kettle Tristan filled earlier with water to boil was still sitting on one of the burner. So I wasn’t dreaming it.

“I don’t know, to be perfectly honest,” Jesse answered, sounding agitated. “I went to bed early last night after getting back from the gym. I started feeling sick to my stomach and I was breaking in cold sweat. I thought it was something I ate and then I started to feel a knot of fear and I couldn’t understand why. I tried to go to sleep but it was keeping me up. Don’t call me crazy but I started hearing your voice in my head.”

I paused. “What?”

I heard him exhale sharply as if he was struggling to keep himself rational. “I started hearing you say the name Tristan. And it was mostly a jumble of words, like parts of sentences that I couldn’t put together. You said the words painful, hurt, burning, cold, bar, dark. What else? Oh, you also said Stigger, alive, date and Jack and something about your dress.”

My gut turned. Every word he mentioned jarred memories from last night, maybe when I was in a feverish state after the were-demon poison started spreading in my system.

“You also sounded like you were saying them dreamily so I couldn’t be sure if was just losing it or if you were talking to me somehow,” Jesse added sighing. “Tell me I’m not crazy, Ollie. I could only hear you. I couldn’t see anything. I was never as accurate as you were in sensing what was going on with me but I’ve always felt it when something was wrong with you. I could never hear you before, though. Something’s different.”

He was right. Something was different but I couldn’t tell him that I’ve recently been tangled in a web of supernatural secrets and in the company of otherworldly creatures. He probably wouldn’t believe me but more than that, he would be in danger as well. 

“Did it eventually go away?” I asked, evading his questions. 

“Yes. At first I was afraid you were dead or something but I felt perfectly fine after that. The knot in my gut was gone,” he said. “Then I went out like a light and when I woke up, I called you a bunch of times and I was starting to worry that something had really gone wrong.”

He paused, hesitating. “Then I called the bakeshop and Mary Anne told me you were out on a date last night and probably, um, slept in. Did your date do anything to you that I should know about, Ollie? Who’s the guy?”

I silently muttered a curse, having to lie again. “His name’s Jack and he’s a firefighter at Hillside. He’s a very nice guy and we had a great time last night but he had to bring me home early because I felt very sick and it kept me up. That’s why I didn’t get up until now.”

“So you were just sick?” Jesse asked in disbelief. “I went through all that last night because you had a tummy ache?”

“I don’t know why that happened to you, okay?” I said, irritated that he wasn’t buying it as easily as I’d hoped. 

I knew exactly why that happened to him—I was dying, that’s why, but he didn’t need to know that.

He was quiet for a moment. “But you’re okay now?”

“Yes. I’m going to Patrick’s barbecue later this afternoon and I’m in the kitchen about to make my pasta salad,” I told him. “Are you okay now?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” he said with a resigned sigh that told me the conversation about last night was over. “I better let you get back to your cooking then. I do miss your food, Ollie. It tempts me all the time to come home.”

I smiled. “You should give in every now and then. You haven’t been back for a long time. I miss you.”

I could hear him smile. “I miss you too, sis. We’ll see. I gotta go, okay?”

We hung up. Jesse always avoided talking about why he hasn’t come home once to visit and I’ve always let him get away with it. I wasn’t going to start changing tactics today of all days.

When I finished my pasta salad, I put it away in the fridge to cool and got dressed.

I wore a lemon yellow skirt and a lacy white top with cupped sleeves that hid my shoulder well. I slipped on a pair of tan leather ballet flats and pulled my hair up to a high ponytail.

I had some time before the barbecue and I spent it watering the planters and flower beds around the house. It was quite therapeutic.

“Tell me all about last night!” was Mary Anne’s first sentence when she saw me pull up in front of Patrick’s house. She was standing by the front porch and she ran out to meet me and take the bowl of food from my hands.

“Your brother called this morning wondering where you were and when you didn’t pick up when I called you before he did, I figured you’d probably spent the night with Jack,” she rambled on excitedly as we walked down the path towards the house. “So did you? Spend the night with Jack?”

I couldn’t help but blush. “No, I didn’t. It was a first date. Besides, he had to bring me home early. I didn’t feel great and that’s why I slept in this morning. Sorry to disappoint you.”

Oh, if Mary Anne had only known what had happened not with Jack but with Tristan.

But she didn’t have to know that because that will lead to her knowing the other circumstances that led us in my bathroom this morning.

“That’s too bad,” Mary Anne complained. She’d been trying to match me up for years, claiming a pretty girl like me could surely find a good man. “Tell me about him. Is he cute? Is he nice? Does he drink?”

I shrugged. “He’s very cute. Dark hair, rugged, nicely built. He’s quite a gentleman too. He had a beer when we were at Country Pub, I think.”

“Will you go out with him again?” she asked.

I reflected on it for a moment. Things with Tristan were progressing when they shouldn’t even be happening but with no certainty of what was possible between us, I couldn’t really pass up on what could potentially be a successful relationship with Jack who seemed interested enough in me. I wasn’t going to hold out for Tristan who might be gone as quickly as he had come and obviously had plenty of women to keep him company. 

“Yeah, sure,” I told her as we walked up to the door. “I’ll bring him over to the bakeshop next time so you can meet him. I’m sure you’ll approve.”

We didn’t have much time to discuss it because Patrick picked me up in a bear hug the moment we walked in. 

There were quite a few people there. Will, Patrick’s boyfriend, was there and he kissed me on both cheeks. His sister Meredith was there too. Mary Anne’s gangly teenage son Kyle was there and said hi before burying his nose back into his portable Nintendo video game. Mary Anne told me the boy had a crush on me so he’s always been shy in my company. 

Two of our part-time staff, Hailey and Bethany, were there as well with their boyfriends. Annalyn Reimer, Patrick’s former landlady before he bought this house three years ago was there as well with her husband Leonard.

The birthday celebrant, Benson, a white-coated pug, had a pink and green striped skirt and a birthday hat on. He was Patrick’s baby and even though I personally didn’t believe in getting dogs a birthday as if they were human (well, except for werewolves, I guess), I purchased a gift certificate for him from Cuddlies Pet Supplies.

The barbecue was in full swing out on the deck and it wasn’t long before the others started asking me about my date. We weren’t that small of a town but pretty much everyone has been to the bakeshop and knew me. I’ve put up with everyone’s attempt at matchmaking me over the last few years and it doesn’t seem to be winding down.

They all seemed interested in Jack but Bethany got them all paying attention when she asked, “What about that Tristan guy? I heard he kissed you right in front of Heather at the parking lot. Are you seeing both of them until you decide?”

“Yeah, Ollie,” added Hailey. “What’s the real score? They both sound like real hunks so it must be a tough choice.”

I rolled my eyes. “Heather was just being her usual angelic self interrogating me about Scott’s whereabouts. Tristan thought kissing me was going to help her take the hint but I seriously doubt it worked.”

Hailey snickered. “It worked on making her absolutely hate you more. I was getting my highlights when she was going on and on about how you target the most eligible guys even when they’re out of your league, blah, blah, blah. She’s such a fan of yours.”

“I think you should go for Tristan,” Annalyn said with a mischievous smile. “I’m sure this Jack guy is nice and all but Tristan looks like a god, doesn’t he?”

Leonard groaned. “Darling, the man’s probably half your age.”

I smiled, secretly amused to be the only one who knew Tristan was older than all of us in this room combined. 

“It doesn’t matter. A woman can appreciate a thing of beauty when she sees it,” Annalyn countered. “Anyway, we got his invitation to the grand opening of the Mansion. I think he sent one to every household in Willow. You’re all going, right?”

Everyone buzzed excitedly and from the looks of it, it seemed like they all got the invite.

I haven’t and as juvenile as it may sound, I was starting to resent it.

I was still a bit grumpy when I headed back home later that evening. It was about eight and the sidewalks were practically empty. I stopped by the gas station to refill and just as I was capping the gas tank back on, a white SUV pulled up next to my pick-up truck.

The window rolled down and Devon was in the passenger seat.

“Good evening, Miss Vance,” he greeted with a smile. “How are you doing?”

“I’m doing well, thank you,” I answered curtly. I remembered what they were and hoped I wasn’t going to hell for not cutting warrior angels some slack. “If you’re going for inconspicuous, you’re failing miserably in that shiny Mercedes.”

Devon chuckled softly. He was quite handsome with similar fair and fine features like Tristan but he was a bit more delicate-looking. “We have other ways to discourage attention. We came by your house earlier but found you weren’t there. We just needed to ask where you were last night.”

I stiffened up inside and hoped Devon didn’t notice too much. “I was out on a date. Why do you want to know?”

If he didn’t believe me, he didn’t show it. “Just wondering. Do you know anything about Tristan’s whereabouts last night?”

I shrugged. “I believe he was out with his friends. Get to the point, Devon.”

His smile dimmed. “Alright, if you insist. There was a were-demon attack in a bar named Hedley’s last night, just next town in Hillside. The were-demons were after Tristan again, I assume, but he’d dealt with all of them with a little help from his lady friend Louisa Hedley, the vampire. There was a sighting of a human in the midst of the ruckus. You didn’t happen to be wearing a pink dress last night, did you, Miss Vance?”

I smirked. “In fact, I did, Devon. Make your point already.”

His face started showing the first signs of exasperation. “Tristan and all the otherworldlies can kill each other all they want and we wouldn’t intervene but if any human, purely innocent or not, is harmed, they will have to answer. You seem to be standing on two legs just fine so I’m going to assume Tristan had at least gotten you out unscathed.”

Almost, I thought to myself without giving anything away. “I’m fine, Devon. I appreciate your concern but I think a lot of other people can use some angel help.”

He caught my eye meaningfully, understanding that I knew. “I admire your confidence in your ability to survive, Miss Vance, having been independent since your parents died. I do want to advise you though to take extra care when in the company of supernaturals. It’s an entirely different world. I know you may trust Tristan to protect you but he is a businessman and he looks after his own interests. Unless you’re one of them, I would suggest you keep out of his company.”

Devon may be an angel but he surely knew how to pack a punch with a few select words. It angered me that they knew about me when I didn’t know a heck of a lot about them and that they felt they knew enough to pass on advice. Not that he was completely far off with his assessment but still, I didn’t need to be supervised like a five-year-old.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” I told him before turning my back and climbing into my truck.

“We’ll be in touch, Miss Vance. Goodnight,” he said before the window rolled back up. I watched as the car turned a corner and disappeared.

Exhaling sharply, I changed my route and headed to the bakeshop instead of home.

I let myself in through the front door, familiar with the path even in the setting darkness outside. I switched on the light when I got into the kitchen, dropping my purse on a chair.

I was always in my element inside a kitchen. It was the only place in the world where I knew I was in control, where I could do anything I want, however I wanted to do it, knowing it would turn out great. Like the next person, I appreciated the wisdom of mistakes but I didn’t have many when it came to whipping out special treats for the mouth and the soul.

In no time, I was elbow-deep in flour, kneading a dough of a pastry I had no specific plans for yet.

“Those hands have their own magic.”

I looked up and found Tristan leaning lazily against the doorway, dressed in black jeans and a red-orange shirt, lending a certain rosiness to his perfect skin.

I raised a brow at him. “Is it just me or do you just really have an annoying habit of sneaking in and out of places?”

He just smiled but didn’t make a move.

“How did you know I was here?” I asked. “And if you tell me you read my mind, you already know how I’ll feel about that.”

“I saw your truck outside,” he answered. “I’ve already been to your house and no one was home.”

“There’s way too many people dropping by my house now,” I grumbled with a shake of my head. “You and the Stellars must’ve just missed each other.”

“Devon wanted to talk to you again?” Tristan asked, his voice all business now. “What did he want?”

I shrugged. “He knew I was in Hedley’s last night. He knows what happened and just wanted to see if I was alright, I guess, because if I wasn’t, he’d have to take action.”

“They didn’t used to be this nosy,” he said as if he was talking to himself out loud. “Ever since this thing...”

“Ever since what?” I asked.

He shook his head, remembering I was in the same room. “Nothing you should be concerned about. What else did he say?”

“That I should stay away from you,” I answered, meeting his eye. “That unless I serve your own interests, I’m pretty much dispensable.”

His chin lifted and his nostrils flared slightly. I couldn’t read his eyes.

Before he could defend himself by attempting some pathetic assurance that was only going to make me feel worse, I held up a hand. “I don’t want to hear it. I’m here to unwind, Tristan. If you don’t mind, I’d like some isolation from you.”

“We tried that but you just ran right back,” he said, the disdain clear in his voice.

I glowered at him for his nerve but I bit my tongue because he was right. I was the one who couldn’t stay away. I was the one who followed him to hell and nearly got myself killed for it.

I focused on the dough that was now starting to wilt in my hands. I was choking the air out of it but I didn’t care. The pleasure I sought from it could barely breathe beneath the cloud of anger that was forming over my head.

Then a white cardboard box with a pale pink ribbon slid across the counter.

I looked up at Tristan who now stood in front of me. “What is it?”

He didn’t smile. “Open it. You may want to wash your hands first.”

I was tempted to push it back towards him but if there was one thing I’ve perfected being around Tristan in the last couple of weeks, it was ignoring my rational side.

I went to the sink to wash my hands and dry them with a towel before picking up the box. It was the size of a very large shoe box but much deeper.

After the ribbon was undone, I lifted the lid that revealed a sheath of dark purple paper tissue and a white notecard on top of it with a little stenciled logo of a large scripted letter M.

I opened it and it was an invitation to the opening of The Mansion this Saturday evening at six. 

So I was invited after all.

I set the invitation aside and carefully lifted the paper tissue off. There was folded fabric underneath and I slowly lifted it out.

My eyes widened.

It was a cocktail dress in a satiny rose gold color that had a nice hour-glass shape to it. It had a beautifully delicate lace applique that worked as its sleeves barely wisping over the shoulders before seductively trailing along the plunge of the neckline. It was a very romantic dress.

I glanced at Tristan. I would think if he was dressing a woman, he’d make her wear something that showed off all her assets to the world whether they wanted to see them or not.

He shrugged casually. “Hopefully your shoulder would barely have any trace of your bravery last night.”

“This is a beautiful dress,” I told him, carefully draping it over my arm as  noticed another sheath of the same paper tissue under where the dress sat. I took it out and under it was a pair of very pale gold high heels that I could imagine looking great with the dress. It was the right size too.

I took a deep breath. I’ve never had a man buy me a dress and shoes and I’ve never imagined it to be this overwhelming.

“I bet this works on all the girls every time,” I joked with a small smile.

He didn’t think it was funny based on the way his eyes narrowed at me. “I hope you’d wear it to the party.”

I raised my brows. “I haven’t decided yet if I was going to go.”

I carefully put the sandals back into the box, covered it with the paper tissue and then gently folded the dress on top of it. “I can’t take this, Tristan. I can’t bear to wear something this... precious.”

In a blur of quick, noiseless movement, he was standing right next to me, his hand gripping my elbow.

“It’s nothing but a piece of fabric to me until you put it on,” he said, his voice low and strained. “I’ll pick you up at six.”

I opened my mouth to protest again but the way his deep blue eyes glimmered with something that strongly resembled a plea stopped me. 

“Okay,” I conceded with a shrug. 

His hold on my elbow loosened but he didn’t quite let go.

His other hand cupped my chin and although unwilling, I met his eyes. 

“I know I’m pushing your boundaries, Ollie,” he said, his voice gruff. “I wish I could say I was selfless enough to keep you at arm’s length but I want you like I’ve never wanted anything else. I’ve spent centuries taking anything I want at any cost and I’m afraid I’m trying to do the same thing with you. Why I care about how you feel about it is beyond me.”

He made no apologies. 

Instead he kissed me brusquely as if to underscore what he’d said.

And before I could decide whether to kiss him back or slap him, he was gone, a slight disturbance in the air being the only trace of his hasty retreat.

I sighed and plopped down on the stool I pulled out from under the counter, studying the dress sat waiting inside the box.

What do you do with a man who only wanted your body when you want all of his heart?