Tiny Glitches: A Magical Contemporary Romance (18 page)

“Why not?”

“Why not?! They were made by kidnappers! We don’t know what’s in them. They could be drugged!”

“Didn’t you say you saw one of the guys eat one?”

“Yeah, but that could have been to make me think the rest were okay.”

“Didn’t you also say the kidnapping seemed like a misunderstanding?”

“What are you two whispering about?” Ari asked, returning with a platter of coffee cake that had been warming in the oven. Antonio followed with the Tupperware.

“I think I’m ready to propose,” Antonio said, licking a finger.

“You didn’t eat one!”

“What? I had to make sure they weren’t poisoned.” He set the Tupperware on the table and selected a carrot cake cupcake. “The chocolate ones are pure heaven.” He bit into the carrot cake and moaned. I gripped the arms of my chair, ready to launch across the table and perform the Heimlich. “I take it back. The chocolate are what’s served outside the pearly gates.
This
”—he pointed at the cream cheese frosting—“is what’s served on the inside.”

“You’re amazing, Eva. You’ve had the craziest couple of days, and you still thought to pick up something on your way home,” Ari said.

“Maybe you shouldn’t—”

Ari selected a chocolate cupcake and took a bite. She closed her eyes to savor it, then said, “Antonio is right. This is heaven. Where’d you go?”

“I . . . ah, I don’t remember,” I said, watching for signs of drowsiness or asphyxiation. “Like you said, it was . . . hectic.”

Antonio and Ari stared at me with twin perplexed expressions.

“You know there’s coffee cake on the table, right?” Ari asked. “Warm. Fresh out of the oven.”

The fact that it’d been sitting in front of me for over a minute without me pouncing on it worried them. I grabbed the knife and cut myself a slice. The damage was done. If the cupcakes were poisoned, it was already in Antonio’s and Ari’s bloodstream.

Hudson selected a chocolate.

“You too?” I asked, incredulous.

“I like to live dangerously,” he said with a wink.

“Seriously, man, these are addictive,” Antonio agreed.

“What’s our next step?” I asked, pushing aside visions of all three of them rushing away in ambulances to the nearest hospital.

Barring Jenny miraculously retrieving Kyoko and disappearing from our lives, our current plan of tracking her down remained our only option. Ari would continue to contact past acquaintances via the Internet and phone—and she’d update Sofie. Hudson and I would visit Jenny’s parents tomorrow. With any luck, Jenny would be holed up there, and the whole fiasco would be over by tomorrow.

Just in case, I thought it prudent to move Kyoko.

“I don’t know who this retrievalist is or how he plays into everything,” I told Hudson as we walked back to my place. “He could be on our side for all I know, but I don’t want to take any chances with anyone finding Kyoko at Sofie’s. I think we should move her tomorrow.”

“Where?”

I’d already thought of this, too. “I know someone. A family friend, really. She’s out of town indefinitely. Her house is more private than Sofie’s. It has an alarm system. Sofie would be safer.” Since this “friend” happened to be my mother, Annabella Hunt, currently in Europe shooting episodes of her treasure-hunting show,
Hunt and Seek
, I didn’t even have to ask permission. Plus, adding elephant poop to my mother’s life, no matter how remotely, pleased a childish part of me.

“That means transporting Kyoko again. We need another truck and trailer. One that won’t crap out on us, even with Kyoko’s curse.” Rotten-core bananas dripped slices from his shoulders to the sidewalk, leaving a vanishing sticky trail behind us.

The drive between Sofie’s home and my mother’s was short enough to be feasible, but vehicle appropriation wasn’t my forte. “Do you think you can find a place to rent a truck and trailer?”

“I should be able to work something out.”

“Thank you.” The words were inadequate, but Hudson shrugged them aside anyway. A tarnished broadsword peeked over his shoulder.

I shivered when the breeze cut through my thin top, and Hudson wrapped an arm around my shoulders and pulled me up against his warm side. My footsteps slowed as we neared my apartment. I didn’t want to say good night just yet. I fantasized about how our first date would have gone had Jenny not interrupted Hudson outside the art gallery and dragged us both into her mess. Would the chemistry between us have been as tangible without the bond of our criminal escapades? Would Hudson have been as interested in me if he hadn’t gotten to play the role of savior? The kiss earlier said the answer to both those questions was yes.

But shouldn’t I be certain? The only way to find out would be to kiss Hudson again.

A woman had to do what a woman had to do.

“Do you want to come up?”

Hudson didn’t hesitate. “Sure.” He steered us into the lobby of my building and toward the elevators. “What floor?”

“The top. Seven. But, ah, I’ll take the stairs and meet you up there.”

Hudson stopped and took a step away from me to get a better look at my face. I missed his warmth immediately in the arctic lobby. Crossing my arms, I stifled a sigh and lined up my usual string of lies.

“Is there something I should know about the elevators?”

“Only that they’re metal death boxes on tiny strings, just like every other elevator you’ve ever encountered.”

“Hang on. Are you telling me you get irritated when you’re kidnapped and frustrated when people drag you into illegal schemes, but you’re
afraid
of rather ordinary elevators?”

“Shouldn’t a person be irritated when they’re kidnapped?”

“Sure, of course, irritated. Or perhaps
terrified
or
panicked
. Most people, when escaping said kidnappers, might get a wee bit hysterical. You invent some sex story and make a lifelong protector out of a cabbie—who threatened to cut off my balls if I ever allowed you to be endangered by our ‘sex games’ again, just so you know. You were cool as brass. Your best friend never suspected a thing. So, yeah, I’m a little surprised you’ve got a thing with elevators.” He snapped his fingers. “Hang on. Are you claustrophobic?”

“Would it make it better if I got hysterical?”

Hudson ran his hand through his hair. “Maybe a little. Just enough.”

“Enough for what?”

“To give me excuses.” He waggled his eyebrows at me.

CHAPTER TEN

Hudson trailed me up six flights of stairs. Hyperconscious of his eyes on my backside the whole way, I took the stairs faster than normal. When we reached the top, we were both out of breath, but Hudson no more than me.

I flipped on the lights in my loft and waited to deliver my next lie.

“What’s wrong with the lighting?”

“It’s gas.”

“Gas? Like what was used before electricity was invented?”

“One and the same.” I had variations for the next lie: Sometimes I told men it was a feng shui thing. Sometimes I told them it was a new, greener lighting method. Some didn’t even notice the lights. To Hudson I told the lie he was least likely to refute. “It was left over from a previous resident, and I got the loft cheap because of it.”

“Huh.” He walked to the floor-to-ceiling windows and looked out. “Nice view.”

I kicked off my shoes and padded into the kitchen. “Do you like port?”

“More of a scotch kind of guy.”

I filled two tumblers with a few fingers’ worth and recapped the bottle. “Ice?”

“No, thanks.”

I dropped two cubes in my glass. When I’d first moved in, I’d stored all my vegetables and leftovers in an ice chest, and I’d hauled up bagged ice daily. For my next birthday, Sofie gave me a propane-powered fridge that cost more than the monthly mortgage bill. For Christmas, she’d given me a gas-powered washer and dryer. It had been her idea to hire Antonio to retrograde all the electric features to gas—and I don’t think she’d foreseen
that
relationship blossoming, either.

“This isn’t exactly what I was expecting,” Hudson said, taking his drink from me.

“Oh? How so?”

“I thought there’d be more hippy stuff.” He seemed embarrassed by his words, but he didn’t apologize.

“You mean New Agey stuff? Like that?” I pointed to a faceted round crystal suspended by clear fishing wire nine inches from the ceiling in the far right corner of the front room. I didn’t explain it hung in the center of my love and marriage bagua and the crystal helped deflect the energy coming in through all the full-length windows. “Or that?” I pointed to the wind chime hanging above the base of my bedroom stairs, slowing the flow of chi.

“Those are . . . odd, but I was thinking more like pillows on the floor, drapey wall hangings in pastels and rainbow colors, baskets. Papasans everywhere.”

“Even after Sofie’s?”

Hudson shrugged.

“Fortunately for me, feng shui doesn’t mean you have to live in the sixties. Though I think it’s funny you went there. Most people think that since it’s an ancient Chinese art, everything has to look like it’s straight out of Hong Kong.”

“So somehow all this stuff, arranged the way you have it, influences what happens in your life.”

“Basically, yeah.” I set my glass on a side table and flopped into my couch’s embrace.

“It’s actually rather comfortable, inviting.”

“I’ll take that rousing endorsement.”

Hudson flushed. “I didn’t mean it like that. Feng shui just seems so . . . so woo-woo. Don’t pay attention to me. I sound like an ass. Your home is very nice.”

“Thank you.” I closed my eyes and savored the silence. His opinions about feng shui notwithstanding, I liked having Hudson in my house. Some guests simply didn’t work. They sucked up all the peaceful serenity of my sanctuary and put me on edge until they left. Despite it being the sort of
woo-woo
judgment Hudson would make fun of, I didn’t get those feelings from him. He strolled about the spacious great room, openly curious about me and my things, and I felt relaxed.

“Does this work?” Hudson asked, pointing to an ornate gold switch plate.

“Flip it,” I said, opening my eyes.

The gas clicked twice in the fireplace, then flames illuminated the brass interior. I rose and shut off the other lights. The shiny walls backing the flames radiated a warm, cozy glow through the room. I jumped when a pair of bunnies hopped up to the glass front, then turned white tails to the warmth and snuggled against each other.

Hudson watched me with dilated eyes, and I smiled. The bunnies were a divination I could interpret. I’d known Hudson for forty-eight hours. He loved electronics, drove a motorcycle, and didn’t see the value in feng shui: The con column was full to bursting. But he was also sexy as hell, dependable, honorable, a great kisser, and intelligent. In my book, that put the pro column on top.

I sashayed to his side and took the glass from his unresisting fingers, setting it on a nearby table.

“Maybe I am feeling a little vulnerable,” I said softly. I stood close enough for our body heat to mingle. Tilting my head back, I dropped my lashes. Hudson sucked in a breath.

“Ah, vulnerable? That’s, um . . . Right. You’ve been through a lot today. Maybe I should get you settled in and then . . . go.” He took a step back, running a hand through his hair.

I opened my eyes fully. “You’re leaving?”

“Look, Eva. I like you. Don’t think I don’t want this—
a lot
. But I don’t take advantage of vulnerable women. I don’t want—” He stopped and glared at me. “Are you laughing?”

“A little. Don’t be mad. It seemed like in the lobby, you wanted me to be more emotional. But screw that.” Still grinning, I reached for his neck and pulled his face close to mine. “Here’s what I should have said,” I breathed against his lips. “I want to kiss you. I want to start at your mouth, and I want to see what your skin tastes like everywhere from your neck to your toes. I want to know what—”

Hudson wrapped his arms around me and pulled me up against him. My breasts flattened against his hard chest, and I swallowed a moan. I slid my fingers into his hair as his mouth settled over mine, hot and wet. We didn’t come up for air until my toes were curled.

I shifted in his embrace, enjoying the dual sensation of his hard body pressed against my nipples and the muscular cage of his arms. Hudson slid a hand down my spine to rest at the base of my tailbone. I wriggled against him, and he groaned. Lifting on tiptoes, I teased his deliciously firm lips with my tongue, then sank my teeth into his full bottom lip before soothing it with a gentle kiss. Hudson dipped his knees, evening our heights, and returned the kiss.

“You’re absolutely gorgeous, Eva.” Framing my face with his large, warm hands, Hudson stared into my eyes with the intensity of a man looking for a soul.

“You’re not bad yourself, Hudson.” I worked my hands under his T-shirt and up his back, running my fingers lightly along his vertebrae. Goose bumps followed my fingers back to his waistband. “Though I think I need to look at the big picture before I form an opinion.”