It was of a fine-looking, blond-haired, blue-eyed man with a tall, well-formed frame and a highly attractive manner.
Valentine’s lost lover.
It was no surprise she had good taste.
It was also no surprise she was clearly blocking me.
What was a surprise was that I broke through.
And now I somewhat understood her heartbreak for he was exceptionally handsome.
However, I could read no more because the image was fading fast, my blue smoke mingling with green taking it away at the same time I felt a presence join me.
At who I knew that presence was, I turned from my crystal and watched Noc sauntering in the room.
He smiled at me, glanced at my crystal ball then returned his smile to me.
I rose from my seat and offered him my own smile.
“Hello, darling. How was your first day with your new employers?” I asked.
He arrived at me, rounding me with an arm and bending his head to touch his lips to mine, all before he replied, “Paperwork. Meetings with clients. Going over cases they’re assigning me. Not exactly fun but they aren’t fucking around. They want me in the field tomorrow so I’ll be getting to the good stuff right away.”
I had no idea what “the good stuff” was but seeing as he’d described it thus, I lifted a hand to his biceps and murmured, “Excellent.”
Noc again looked to my magical orb, his smile having dimmed, his eyes speculative when he returned his attention to me.
“You spyin’ on Circe?” he queried.
I felt my frame stiffen slightly in affront as my mouth tightened. “Of course not.”
“Then what are you up to with your crystal ball?”
“Although time has passed, it would seem Valentine is not healing from her heartbreak so I was looking into that situation,” I shared.
Noc turned his gaze to the ceiling and declared there, “She’s barely done meddling with one, she’s starting in on the other.”
I put my other hand to his chest and gave it a slight push, again earning his regard.
“She’s suffering,” I stated.
“Give it a rest,” he returned.
“If I can do something—”
His arm tightened and his other hand came up to cup my jaw. “Baby, give it a rest. Circe is Circe. Sweet and loving and unable to hold a grudge. Valentine is an entirely different animal. I told you the play you made with Circe wasn’t the right one and we both know how that went. Not gonna back down on this. Valentine will lose her mind, you insinuate yourself in her situation. She means something to you. She’s a good woman, even if she doesn’t like to let that show. Don’t fuck with this. Straight up, Frannie. Don’t. You do, she’ll carry that grudge, if she can make it happen, she’ll do it magically from beyond the grave. And what I mean by that is you’ll lose her.”
I felt my mouth tighten again because he was probably right (probably).
Noc noted my nonverbal acceptance of his statement and changed the subject.
“You get Circe sorted at the mall?”
I nodded, moving past what we’d just discussed and I did it excitedly. “Yes, we bought her the most divine set of underwear. I’m quite certain Dax will be most affected when he uncovers—”
Noc took one arm from around me and lifted it, palm out. “Stop right there. That’s woman shit. I don’t need to know about Circe’s underwear or what you figure Dax will do when he sees it. I’ll go on to say that if she shares what he actually gets down to doin’, I don’t wanna know that either.”
I decided to say no more.
Noc decided the opposite.
“I’m hungry and don’t feel like cooking or hanging at a restaurant so you good with Chinese takeaway?”
I had no idea what Chinese takeaway was.
I still nodded.
“Josette with us?” he inquired.
I shook my head. “Glover’s picking her up soon to take her to dinner.” I made my thoughts clear on the subject of my next with my tone, “She’s spending the night tonight at his place. As she did last night.”
Noc grinned.
I did not.
Noc noticed my lack of enthusiasm for this and his grin got bigger.
However, he made no mention of it and simply said, “Then let’s get home.”
Home.
Yes.
I wanted to go there.
But only because that was where Noc wanted to be.
For me home was a different thing.
For me, home was simply Noc.
* * * * *
I liked Chinese takeaway.
Very much.
The utensils Noc had great skill in using to eat it I did not like because they were awkward. But I was determined to master them because Noc said, “You should eat any food the way it was meant to be eaten. Chinese doesn’t taste the same with a fork. Trust me, it’s better with chopsticks.”
It was excellent as it was.
Therefore I was definitely going to master chopsticks.
Dinner consumed, minimal cleanup achieved (I’d even helped, but as it was simply rinsing plates to put in the dishwasher, this was not difficult), we were lazing, cuddled on Noc’s couch, watching what he called a “crime drama.”
I was inattentive to this drama.
Instead, I was what I’d been on and off all day.
This being completely at a loss as to how to broach the subject in a meaningful way (this being in a way I could change his thinking entirely on the subject) of the issues I knew in my soul were coloring Noc’s world.
Or more to the point, the way Noc viewed himself in our world.
Issues I had no idea from where they stemmed.
When approaching this same subject with me, Noc faced it head on and made me do the same.