PALE Series Box Set Read online

  I stood up and patted him on the shoulder. "I'm sure we can manage without your help for a few hours," I told him.

  "Good. Then I'll wish you two a good evening." He bowed his head and left us alone in the house.

  I collapsed back in my chair and glanced over to John to find his eyes staring intently at me. "What?" I looked down at myself and was reminded of the consequences of brawling with another woman. My shirt hung loose on one side, stretched like a piece of gum, and my pants buttons were pulled open, though not far enough for me to be indecent. "Oh, that."

  "Remind me never to get between two women intent on tearing each other to pieces," John teased me.

  "You don't even need two. One will work," I quipped.

  "One will certainly work," he agreed as he stood up from his chair and rounded the desk.

  He came up behind me, and I covered my chest with my arms and scowled at him. "Oh no, Cecil told us to stay out of trouble until at least dawn."

  "Would you believe me if I told you I only wanted to show you something?" he asked me.

  "No, but I'm willing to set aside my suspicious nature just this once."

  "Good, then let's go outside." He pulled me onto my feet, but I caught hold of the desk.

  "I think I've had enough of banging into things in the dark. Can't this wait until tomorrow?"

  "It could, but the moon's coming out and it will be the-well, it would be a good time to show you something," he insisted. He pulled me along out through the back and among the yard's shadows. I tripped and stumbled over every dangerous rock and homicidal weed within two miles.

  "Could you not pull me along like a five year old wanting to show his mom some new, hideous bug?" I asked him.

  "We're just about there," he encouraged me. We rounded some large bushes and came to a stone seat. He plopped me down so hard my grandchildren felt it, and I scowled while he fumbled for something in his pocket. "Where is that damn thing..." he grumbled.

  I saw a small, white box pop out of his coat, and snatched it before he noticed. I teasingly held it up in front of him. "This what you're looking for?" I asked him.

  His eyes grew as wide as saucers, and he flew like one as he tried to snatch it from my hands. I dodged his needy fingers, and deftly slid off the bench and onto the ground; I meant to do that. It was all part of my plan to escape his clutches and appease my curiosity, but John swiped the box and jumped back. "You are...you are absolutely unbelievable," he told me.

  "I try my best."

  I expected him to help me up, but instead he got down on one knee in front of me. "Um, what are you doing?"

  "Something I should have done a long time ago."

  "We've only known each other for a week and a half."

  "And we've been through everything a couple would ever face-"

  "-and more."

  "-and I love you more than ever. So, Trixie Calhoun, will you marry me?" He opened up the small box to reveal a ring with a diamond that would have been the envy of Elizabeth Taylor. It was so large I swore it gave off its own light and illuminated most of the backyard. "So what do you say, Angel? Willing to risk walking down the aisle with me?"

  "I-I-"

  "I understand it's a lot to take in after tonight's excitement, but if I don't propose now we'll be so busy with other trouble I wouldn't have time."

  "I-I-"

  "You do?"

  "I can't."

  "You what?" John yelled. If I'd told him I was a man he wouldn't have been more surprised.

  "I can't accept your proposal for marriage. It's just not long enough for us to be together."

  "But we've been through so much! We've fought off thieves! We've fought intruders! We've-"

  "We've only been together for ten days," I reminded him. I put one of my fingers on his lips. "You can't argue with math, at least not the kind with numbers. All bets are off when the Greek alphabet is included."

  He gently clasped my hand in his, and I nearly broke at the sight of those blue puppy dog eyes. "So you can never say yes?"

  "I never said that. I just need more time to decide what I want to do with the rest of my life. Just last week I wanted to be a geologist, and now I'm fighting crime one bad guy at a time."

  I almost managed to crack a smile on his face, but he turned his face away. "How long do you need?" he whispered to me.

  I cupped his chin in my hand and pulled him back. There were tears in those beautiful blue eyes. I brushed them away, but the pain remained. "I don't know how long I need, but you'll be the first to know when I've decided."

  "And until then?" he wondered.

  I leaned up and caught his pouting lips in a hard, passionate kiss. When I pulled away he already looked happier. "Until then we'll be friends with benefits. Lots of benefits."

  Pale Lover (New Adult Romance)

  CHAPTER 1

  John Benson peeked his head into the living room where I sat reading a book one dark and calm night.

  "I have a surprise for you," John Benson announced to me.

  It had been a few weeks since our adventures with Monroe, Constance, and my crazed admirer Tanner. Without Monroe's concentrated efforts to oust John from his family's company, the board's plan to set a babysitter for John had gone up in smoke like a bad Cuban cigar. John and Cecil, John's uncle, had convinced them he was competent enough to handle his own affairs, and a precarious agreement had been made to revert back to the old arrangement. John was relieved to slip back into his old routine, but I felt uneasy. Another ambitious person on the board and we'd be back to the same trouble.

  There was also the matter of our relationship and my uneasy feelings between us. I put down my book and my gut twisted at the thought of telling him what I needed to tell him. "I have a surprise for you, too, but you go first," I replied.

  He stepped into the room and over to where I sat on the couch. "First you have to close yours eyes and submit to a blindfold," he insisted.

  I glanced up at him and frowned. "This isn't going to get kinky, is it?"

  He mischievously grinned and brought out a handkerchief from his pants pocket. "Only if you want it to."

  "Maybe after my surprise," I suggested.

  "Then hold still while I put this blindfold on you." I stood and he tightly wrapped the handkerchief over my eyes. He stepped behind me and put his hands on my shoulders. "Now don't be afraid." I wasn't so much afraid as very worried, especially when he pushed me forward and my shin connected with the coffee table. I wanted to do the one-legged hop around the room a few times, but he firmly held onto me. "Sorry about that."

  "Not as sorry as I am," I grimaced.

  "I'll be more careful." I had to admire his attempt because I couldn't admire his success. I knocked into the wide living room doorway, tripped over a rug in the hall, and stumbled into the dining room table. If we'd been playing pin-the-tail-on-the-donkey he would have spun me out a window. I was relieved when he lifted his hands from my shoulders, especially since I felt a distinct sensation of heat coming off the table. "All right, take off the blindfold."

  I pulled it down and was surprised to see a large cake with a slew of lit candles on the top that performed a good imitation of the sun. It had dark chocolate frosting, and I suspected the inside was the same. I counted the candles and found there were thirty of them. "You've got my age wrong, and the date," I told him.

  He laughed and stepped up beside me. "This isn't a birthday cake. It's to celebrate our first month together."

  "Our anniversary?" I guessed, and he nodded.

  "Exactly," John agreed. He had such a large smile on his face that I managed one of my own. This was complicating my own surprise for him. John noticed my strained grin that would have scared children and small dogs. "Is something wrong?" he asked me.

  "Well, yes and no. The cake's great, and I'm really glad you did it, but the timing is a little, well, off."

  "I can't change the date of when we met," he pointed out.

  "Oh, right. Wel
l, I guess my timing's a little off. I've been meaning to tell you I was going to go back to my apartment." I cringed when a shadow swept across his face.

  "You're leaving me?" he wondered.

  "Not leaving you forever, just my bedroom here. With Tanner in jail I probably won't have any more problems at my old apartment," I explained to him. He still wasn't very happy. "I'll still be working for you, but it'll be a lot easier to go to my classes without that long drive."

  "But you'll have that drive to me," he countered. I felt like I was dealing with a five year old who was told he had to share his toys with the other kids, and didn't want to.

  "This is a part-time job, and as for everything else-well, we've only been together a month." The torched cake was proof of that. "I want things to slow down before I end up popping a baby out in record time," I joked.

  John didn't laugh. "If that's how you feel it has to be."

  "At least for now," I added.

  "When were you planning on leaving?"

  "Tomorrow." It was a Saturday, so no classes to get in the way of the packing and moving.

  "I see." There was an awkward silence between us until I noticed something about the cake.

  "Um, John?" I spoke up.

  "Yes?"

  I pointed at the dessert. "The top of the cake is on fire." The candle wax had melted all over the frosting and the wicks had fallen over to continue burning along the top of the river of wax. John's eyes widened and he raced for the kitchen, returning quickly with a pitcher of water. He doused the flames, but drowned the cake. A horrible river of chocolate blood ran across the table and poured over the edge. It felt like being in a film noir, but without the dramatic music and there was too much color around us.

  John raced again to the kitchen and brought back a roll of paper towels. I helped him wipe up the mess, and in a few minutes the table was cleaned and cleared of chocolaty debris. All that remained was a flat, soggy mess of cake on its cardboard platter. It looked as depressed as we both felt.

  "Well, that was an ill omen," I murmured.

  "Just an accident," he replied in a flat tone. I glanced up into his long face and sighed.

  "This isn't the end of the world. We can get a new cake and I'll still be around," I consoled him.

  "We'll see," he answered, and strode off upstairs. I winced when I heard the door to his bedroom slam.

  Then I realized I wasn't being my rowdy, assertive self because I'd just let a brooding man win the conversation by getting the final word. I puffed out my chest and scowled at the flat cake, which just sat there looking like a soggy cake. There was no way I was going to let John's pouting nature overwhelm both of us, so I spun around and slipped on a slime of cake that we'd missed. I picked myself back up, straightened my clothes and marched up the stairs to John's door.

  I pounded my fist against the entrance. "John Benson, open up right now!" I ordered him.

  "It's not locked," he answered through the door. I swung open the door and found him a puddle of human ooze on his bed. He stared up at the ceiling with his arms folded and tucked beneath his head. He didn't even look toward me when I entered, but he glanced at me when I slammed the door behind me. "Do you have something against my door?" he half-heartedly teased.

  "No, but the owner is making me angry, and you don't want to see me when I'm angry," I warned him.

  He raised his head and an eyebrow. "What are you talking about?"

  "I'm talking about you and your brooding." I stomped over to his bed and stretched myself up to my full height of five-foot-nothing. "You act like my moving back to my apartment is the end of the world."

  John turned his face away from me. "It's the end of my world," he muttered.

  I stomped over to the other side so he had to look at me again. "If I'm all that's in your world then maybe you need to get out some more." He rolled his head to get away from me, and I scurried across to the other side of the bed. "All this staying inside all the time is what got you into that mess with Monroe babysitting you," I pointed out.

  "It won't happen again. He's gone," John countered as he again turned his face away from me.

  I grabbed his chin and swung his face back. "I don't need that much exercise, so please stop moving your head," I firmly ordered him. "Also, stop brooding. I'll be back first thing Monday afternoon to pretend I know how to help you with your business." I still hadn't mastered most of my duties.

  "And I'll be alone Sunday," he countered. I opened my mouth, but for once a thought struck before I could speak. My lips curled up in a grin and John recoiled from the evil sight. "What are you thinking?" he asked me.

  "I'm thinking that you're going with me tomorrow to the city and I'm going to make sure you're not lonely."

  CHAPTER 2

  The next day couldn't come soon enough for me, and came too soon for John. I packed my clothes into the trunk of my car, and then packed my employer into the seat beside me. He had on his usual dark attire to block his skin from the sun, and his mood was as sour as a lemon dipped in a lime and mixed with essence of grapefruit. We headed off down the road and I struck up a conversation.

  "You should try smiling. I want to see if those muscles still work," I teased.

  "I am smiling," he countered. I glanced at him. His frown was deeper than the Grand Canyon.

  "I've never seen a smile point downward."

  "Perhaps if you stood on your head you would see it."

  "Should I try it right now?" I challenged him.

  "I would like to see my next birthday."

  "And I'd like to see a smile. Come on, there aren't any children or puppies to scare around here." He continued to look straight ahead, but I was stubborn. "You might not be smiling now but I bet you're going to be smiling when you see where I'm taking you."

  "Is it back to the house?"

  "No."

  "Then I doubt it."

  At this point I was seriously considering the destination being a power pole, but I didn't want to wreck my new car. Instead I drove us into the city and down one of the crummy streets in a bad neighborhood. Reminded me a lot of my apartment street. I parked the car in front of a low, battered, single-story building with patched windows. It being Saturday, I was relieved to see an Open sign in one of the dingy windows. "This is it," I announced to my captive audience.

  John leaned forward and looked past me at the building. "The local daycare?" he half joked.

  "Close, but that's next to the drug dealer's house down the road. This place is a daycare for unwanted animals." I got out and was glad when he stepped out with me. I didn't want to drag him from the seat.

  "It's an animal shelter?" he guessed.

  "Yep, and this is where we're going to find you an animal to hug and snuggle," I announced.

  He walked around the car onto the sidewalk and raised an eyebrow. "Why would I need an animal when I have you?" I was glad to hear some humor in his voice, but I rolled my eyes at his comment.

  "Because sometimes your squishy toy needs a break, so what better thing to hug than a soft kitten or puppy?"

  "A stuffed animal would be easier to feed," he argued.

  "But not as cute."

  "But wouldn't need exercise."

  "It'd be good for you to get outside more often."

  "It'd be better to drop this entire idea and drive me home," he countered.

  "I'm not driving you anywhere without something soft, fluffy, and alive in your lap, and I dare you to try to find a ride around here that wouldn't mug you before you found a cab."

  John sighed and I knew I'd at least partially defeated him. "All right, I'll go inside and take a look, but I won't make any promises to buy anything."

  I grinned, got behind him and pushed him toward the door. "I guarantee one look at the fuzzy creatures and you'll change from a window shopper into a real shopper." We stepped inside the plain, dimly lit front room. There was only a large desk against the wall to our left, some chairs to our right, and in front of us
was a metal door that led to the back room. A woman glanced up from paperwork at the desk and smiled at us. "Good morning. What can I do for you?"

  "We're here to see about adopting a pet," I told her.

  "A dog or cat?" she asked us.

  I glanced at John, who rolled his eyes and sighed. "A cat," he grumbled.

  "Then come with me." She stood, walked around the desk and led us past the rear door to the back room. There were metal cages stacked almost to the ceiling, but I was glad to see they were only half full. The first half of the room was filled with dogs, and there was a partition at the far back for the cats. The dogs howled and barked at us as we passed, and I was glad John had chosen a smaller animal to try to tame. Not that I had anything against dogs, but I didn't want to be blamed when one dragged him halfway across his lawn chasing after a gopher from the corn field. "We have a wide assortment of cats to choose from, and many of them have been looking for forever homes for quite a while."

  "So you don't put them down?" I wondered.

  "Oh no, we keep care of them through donations and volunteers." She opened a door in the walled partition and guided us into a room also filled with the metal cages, but inside these were cats of all stripes and patches.

  I turned to John and gestured to the strays. "Pick your poison," I invited him.

  He cringed, but glanced around. There were dozens of meowing felines who pleaded for a home. I would have chosen one or four in various shapes and sizes, and hauled them off to my apartment if pets were allowed. As it was, John roamed the halls between the cages and looked through all the bars. He stopped at one, or rather, he was stopped at one. A paw shot out and grabbed his overcoat.

  John looked inside, and I went up and took a look myself. There was an old calico behind the bars with shining golden eyes and twitchy whiskers. She meowed and pulled at his coat. My heart melted to mush, and John glanced over to the woman. "What can you tell me about this one?"

  The woman came over and smiled at the feline. "She's a little feisty, but I think she's taken a liking to you." Indeed the little cat had pulled his coat into her cage and was tearing the hell out of it. "Would you like to take her today?"

  "Can we?" I wondered.