Lynsay Sands: One Lucky Vampire

That whiff came again and stayed this time as he got halfway up the stairs, but it was the smoke he could see billowing out of the kitchen when he reached the top of the stairs that really alarmed him. Hell, he was burning down the bloody house!

Jake charged into the kitchen, relieved to see that there wasn’t actually a fire. The grilled cheese was producing all the smoke. Grabbing the pan, he whirled and stuck it in the sink and turned the tap on, and then whirled back to the soup pan, which was boiling over onto the burner. Jake automatically grabbed that as well to throw in the sink, only to curse and drop it when the handle burned his hand. It hit the floor with a loud clang, sending tomato soup flying in every direction.

“Damned metal handles,” he muttered, grabbing paper towel off the counter and bending to the mess he’d made. He swiped up a good portion of the orange-red mess, tossed the sopping paper towel in the garbage and started to reach for more, but changed his mind and stood to hurry to the sliding glass doors instead. The air was thick with smoke and the stench of burnt food. His eyes were beginning to burn and water. He needed to air out the room.

God, he hoped Nicole stayed in her studio for a while, Jake thought as he unlocked and opened the sliding glass doors. He hoped he hadn’t completely destroyed her pot and pan too. And he guessed he wasn’t feeding her tomato soup and grilled cheese.

Grimacing, Jake left the door open and moved back to finish cleaning up the mess. He then picked up the much cooler pan and examined it as he set it in the sink. It was a mess, the soup a blackened mess on the bottom of the pan, but he thought he might be able to clean it off. Maybe. As for the frying pan . . . Jake grimaced as he examined it. The Teflon on the bottom was discolored. He’d put the heat on too high.

Sighing, he set the plug in place in the sink so it would fill with water and dumped some soap in, then caught the floating, blackened sandwiches and tossed those.

He’d have to figure out something else to feed her, Jake thought. But first he needed to change. The soup had splashed all over, catching even his top, but really getting his jeans good. Grimacing, he started out of the kitchen, but then paused and turned back to turn off the tap. Causing a flood on the heels of the first calamity would have been impressive, he thought grimly, and shook his head as he left the kitchen.

Nicole paced to the end of her studio and back, and then did it again . . . and again. She really didn’t know what else to do. She was angry, and restless and frustrated. She was mad because it seemed someone was out to kill her. While Jake had taken the brunt of the two attacks, no one knew he was here but his family, so she had to be the target. But she didn’t have a clue why anyone would want to kill her. Truthfully, Joey was the best suspect because he got the bulk of her estate if she died . . . and she was angry about that too. As mad as she wanted to be at Jake and his family for suspecting her brother, he was the most likely one . . . and she hated that too. Nicole didn’t want to suspect her brother. But the facts were he’d arrived in town the day the hot tub poisoning happened, after she’d told him she planned to take a dip in the hot tub later.

Was that just a coincidence? Or had he poisoned the hot tub before leaving that night? He might have already planned to poison the hot tub and had the poison with him, or her mentioning planning to use it might have made him run into town when he left here, purchase whatever poisons it was that had been used, and drive back, park up the road and walk to the house in the dark to dump the poison in. There were no streetlights out here and the houses were a good distance apart; each sat on a plot of land of at least two acres. No one would have noticed him.

As for the car, Nicole hadn’t mentioned it to Jake, but Joey was pretty handy with cars. He’d bought and restored old ones since he was a teenager. He could have tampered with her SUV.

Sighing, Nicole dropped onto her daybed/couch and closed her eyes briefly. She could hardly be angry at Jake and his family for suspecting her brother when she suspected him too. And she wasn’t really angry at them. She was just angry in general, or maybe angry at herself. What was it about her that the men who were supposed to love her, treated her so shabbily? Her husband had professed to love her and then had abused her and screwed her royally financially, and now her brother, who she had always been sure loved her, might be trying to kill her for a couple bucks.

Was it something about her that made them react this way? And what if that something eventually made Jake come to loathe her or think her only value was the money she made and he turned on her like her husband and brother?

That was where her true upset lie. Or at least half of it, Nicole corrected, because losing her brother to greed and attempted murder would hurt terribly. But she suspected Jake going the same way would hurt more, and what did that say about her? It would upset her more if Jake, a man she’d only met a week or so ago now, turned on her than the fact that her brother may have.

Elaine had said she could read her mind, see through the subterfuge and knew she loved Jake. Nicole was beginning to think the woman was right. She did love the man despite the short time since she’d met him . . . and she didn’t like having these ill feelings between them, but she’d caused them and, therefore, she was the one who needed to apologize for getting so upset about his suspecting her brother when she did too.

Cursing, Nicole stood and headed out of the studio. The house was silent as she walked through it, and a glance out the windows that wrapped around the front stairway showed that the only vehicle left in her driveway was Jake’s. It looked like everyone else had left. Including the twins.

The knowledge made her pause on the stairs. They were alone . . . completely and utterly alone. If they were alone, then they could—

Geez. Nicole interrupted her own thoughts with disgust. She finds out they’re alone and her thoughts immediately turn to sex. These nanos of theirs were powerful mojo. She was acting like a heroin addict or something, and Jake was the drug. But she needed to stop that. She owed Jake an apology before she could even consider such things.

Nicole heard that lecture from her own brain, but her body was still reacting to the thought of being alone with Jake and the things they could do . . . all over the house. Honestly, Nicole didn’t know how many times over the years she’d heard women claim that most men thought with their genitalia, but that affliction obviously wasn’t restricted purely to men. Her brain appeared to have dropped into her panties since meeting Jake.

On the other hand, a part of Nicole’s mind argued, there was nothing that said she couldn’t look nice to apologize. She could put on one of the skirts he’d helped her pick out . . . maybe the short black one that had made his eyes glow silver; pair it with a white blouse and high heels . . . maybe skip the panties. They wouldn’t even have to take their clothes off if she did that . . . and then, if they did indulge somewhere other than the bedroom, and someone came home, they could just straighten their clothes and smile innocently. Well, if they weren’t unconscious on the floor, she thought wryly, and continued up the stairs.

Much to her relief, Nicole didn’t run into Jake as she crossed the loft to the master bedroom. She thought she caught a glimpse of him in the kitchen as she scooted past, but he didn’t spot her and come out before she reached and slipped into her room. Nicole eased the door closed to prevent giving away her presence, and then slipped into her walk-in closet.