Not thinking, I ran to him, grabbed his shirt in my fists, pressed to his wet body and tipped my head back to look at him as his arms slid around me.
“Thank God you’re home,” I breathed.
Tor stared into my face.
Then he smiled.
Chapter Nineteen
Only You
After Tor smiled at me, his eyes moved over my face then over my head then they scanned my living room. Then his smile faded, his expression went decidedly ominous, his gaze dropped back to me and he growled, “What are you doing out of bed?”
I didn’t have time for Tor’s ominous look. There was a shitload of money in my TV cabinet, none of my friends were talking to me, Cora had hooked up with my world’s Noctorno and we had a date to have dinner with my freaking parents tomorrow night. I had to stay on target.
“Where have you been?” I asked, my voice pitched high, my fingers still curled into his wet shirt.
“Out in your world,” he answered and before I could say more, he did. “You were right, love, it’s colorless.”
“I know, but –”
“Gray. So bloody wet. And it’s loud.”
“I know, listen –”
“And grimy,” he cut me off again, “so much filth, even the air doesn’t taste good.”
“Tor, I know, but –”
“And so many bloody people, all in a hurry, all impatient, gods, hideous.”
“Tor!” I shouted.
“What?” he asked.
“We need to talk, we have problems,” I informed him and his brows drew slightly together as his arms curled me protectively closer.
“What problems?”
I opened my mouth to speak and didn’t know where to start. So I asked, “Have you eaten?”
“No,” he replied.
I pulled away, ordering, “Change out of those wet clothes, I’ll make you a bologna sandwich and we’ll talk.”
“A what?”
That’s when I lost it.
“Just change out of your clothes!” I cried.
The instant I finished my last word, his hand cupped my jaw and he bent to put his face in mine. “I’ll change, Cora, calm down. Whatever it is, we’ll sort it out. Right?” he said softly.
I looked in his eyes, sucked in breath and nodded, hating that his quiet, powerful strength could calm me but having to admit that it could.
His hand dropped away and he sauntered into my bedroom.
I dashed into the kitchen.
I was toasting bread and frying bologna when he walked in wearing another, more faded pair of jeans (that were, incidentally, even hotter on him than the others) and a white, long sleeved tee that was tighter than the other one and seeing as I’d never seen him in anything but black or, this morning, navy blue, its brightness against his tanned, olive-toned skin looked so good, it struck me momentarily speechless.
I pulled it together when his eyes dropped to the frying pan and he asked, “What, by the gods, is that?”
“Bologna,” I answered, he looked at me, I knew my answer meant nothing to him so I explained, “It’s a kind of meat.”
“It’s round,” he observed with barely concealed distaste.
“Uh… yes.”
“Meat is not round,” he declared.
Well, he was mostly right.
“Can we not talk about bologna?” I asked, he held my eyes for a second then he crossed his arms on his wide chest and leaned a hip against the counter which I took as an affirmative.
I flipped the bologna, snatched the toast out when it popped up and started talking.
“I think Cora is in trouble. I found a big stash of money in my TV cabinet. A lot of it, Tor. Too much to earn in two months in any legal way. I found out she’s playing poker and I think that’s how she’s getting it.”
I squirted mustard on the bread and turned my head to look at him.
“Poker?” he asked.
“It’s a card game. Gambling.”
His brows drew together and he clarified, “A game of chance for money?”
I nodded.
His lips thinned.
Oh boy.
“What?” I asked.
“Cora has a gift. Most would use it for good. I could see she would not.”
That didn’t sound good.
“What gift?” I asked.
“She excels with numbers.”
Oh dear. That could mean Cora was counting cards. Cora was playing poker and counting cards.
Shit!
“This isn’t good,” I muttered, grabbing a slice of American cheese and unwrapping it from its plastic.
“What’s that?” Tor asked and I looked at him to see his eyes on the cheese.
“American cheese.”
“And that clear sheet you’re removing?”
“Plastic wrap.”
His hand came out and he took the plastic from me. I slapped the cheese on one of the pieces of bologna and went for another slice as he rubbed the plastic between his fingers.
“Extraordinary,” he murmured.
“It doesn’t biodegrade,” I informed him, his eyes came to me, brows up and I slapped the second slice of cheese on another piece of bologna and continued. “Biodegrade, meaning break down. Return to nature. It never goes away. It’s manmade. It’s part of the reason this world is so… colorless.”
He looked at the plastic and then set it aside.
Acutely aware in a way I’d never been before of the waste I was creating, I opened another slice and slapped it on the last piece of bologna. Gathering the pieces of plastic, I took them to the garbage thinking I was never going to buy American cheese again and then I decided to take us back to target.
“If Cora’s gambling, and counting cards, that wouldn’t be good if someone suspects. But we have another problem,” I told him.
“And that would be?” he asked as I went back to the frying pan, turned off the burner and used a spatula to slide the pieces of bologna on the bread.
“I had a visitor today,” I told him. “The Cora of your world somehow managed to hook up with the Noctorno of this world. They’re together. The clothes you’re wearing are his. He’s the one who told me about the poker. It seems while you’ve been carrying on with me, she’s been carrying on with him.”
The air in the room suddenly changed and it was not a good change. It was also not a bad change.
It was a very bad change.
I turned my head to look at his face and I instantly realized my mistake.
