Chapter Three
Rose threw her covers back and climbed out of bed. It was ten o’clock anyway, and she couldn’t sleep. When she emerged from the shower and was fully dressed, she went into the little kitchen hoping that her mother had something fixed for her to eat, of course she did. Her father was sitting in his usual chair, reading the paper. She plopped down on the old, blue sofa with her pancake in hand.
“Hey, Dad, what’s up?” she asked, studying him as she took a huge bite. He was still very handsome for a man in his fifties. His hair was thinning, but just barely, and his hands were big and strong. She had always admired them as a young girl when he would hold her hand, or pick her up and twirl her around.
He peeped at her over his paper before sitting it down in his lap. “Not too much, but I hear something’s up with you.”
She shrugged, taking another bite. “Oh—yeah, I guess there is.”
“And when were you going to tell me you hooked up with the only vampire in this place. All these cute, young werewolves and you choose the vampire.”
She would have been alarmed if it weren’t for the smirk on his face. She sighed in relief. “Well, he seems to be a good guy, and he knew great-great grandmother Rose, so we spent a lot of time talking about her.”
“He’s that old, huh?”
“Yeah—I guess,” she said with a shrug. “He says I look like her. Do we have a picture of her anywhere?”
“You’ll have to ask your mother. I think she’s got one somewhere around here, but she’s still unpacking.”
“I think I’ll ask her.” She stuffed the last bite of pancake in her mouth and headed into her mother’s room.
“Hey, Mom,” she said, bursting into the room. Her mother jumped and spun around, startled. “Dad says he thinks you have a picture of great-great grandmother Rose.”
“I sure do. Let me see—I think it’s in this box here.” She fumbled through the boxes stacked in the middle of the room.
Her mother had been unpacking by the look of things. Her hair was pulled up into a messy bun with pieces falling down and around her face. Rose thought her mother was a pretty woman; petite with dark hair splashed with grey.
“Ah, yes. Here it is. You know, Rose, you look an awful lot like her.”
“So I’ve heard,” she said, accepting the picture. She wasn’t quite prepared for her reaction as she looked down at the photograph. The woman that stared back at her was very beautiful. She was laughing, her big, brown eyes full of amusement. Her hair was dark and pulled up behind her head with a few little strands falling loose to her shoulders. Her dress was cut low, revealing a very well-endowed young woman.
Everyone had been right—she looked just like this woman in the photo. And Rose wasn’t sure how she felt about that. This was her relative after all. She should be happy to resemble such a beautiful woman, and yet she wasn’t sure that was the emotion she felt at all. She found herself wondering if Raven was the cause of this woman’s happiness, or was this after he had abandoned her and she fell in love and married her husband, Carter Jameson—the werewolf.
The hours passed very slowly as she waited for her date. Rose had spent a little time with Eli, who filled her in on a few things about the facility, took her on a tour, and introduced her to some of the others. Most of the guys were young for her, but Jordan, Jared, Ian, and Cody, some of Levi’s elite, were close enough to her age and still unattached. Except she just didn’t feel drawn to them. She could sense their interest in her though, especially Jordan. He was her age, a senior in high school. He was very handsome, with spiky, blonde hair and very green eyes. But she still felt nothing—not like when she had looked at Raven, with his black hair and even blacker eyes, standing in dramatic contrast against the canvas of his pale, white skin. And those full, red lips were too inviting to resist for long.
She shook off her thoughts and headed back to her bedroom to start getting ready for her highly anticipated date.
Chapter Four
Raven took a deep breath, though it wasn’t necessary, and knocked. He felt like a nervous teenager, and if he could sweat he would have. It had only been a minute but it felt like ten when the big oak door swung open.
Mr. Jameson, a huge but kind looking man, answered the door and smiled. “Let me guess. You must be Raven.” His voice was deep but welcoming.
“Yes, sir. It is nice to meet you.” He extended his hand and Mr. Jameson took it eagerly.
“Please come in. Rosebud will be out in a minute.”
“Please don’t call me that in front of guests!” she yelled from another room as Raven stepped inside.
Raven peered at her dad and they both laughed.
“She gets embarrassed when her mother and I call her that in public.”
Raven smiled as he imagined just what Rose would look like embarrassed; her cute face flushing an adorable red. He wondered if Rosebud was a combination of names, or just an endearment and he asked, “What is her middle name, if I may ask?”
“Of course. Well, actually Rose is her middle name, and Sophia is her first. Her mother always preferred to call her Rose.”