The first time she experienced this phenomenon as a shop owner, Claire scheduled a second shipment of her most popular stock, to be delivered on December 23. She always cleaned it out by five pm on Christmas Eve. And this year had been even more successful.
Zach joined her at the window, draping one arm across her shoulders. He already stood eye level with Annie at nearly six feet, and the yoga he practiced with surprising discipline began to fill him out.
“That was some crazy action today. I didn’t think you could cram so many people in the shop at once.”
She laughed, wrapped her arm around his waist and leaned into him. “It was something. I believe I even rendered Mildred speechless with the Christmas gift.” The thought of the old woman at a loss for words widened her smile. “So, son of mine—are you ready for our celebration?”
“Can you give me a minute? I have a surprise for you.”
He kissed her cheek and dashed off before she could open her mouth to say yes or no. Chuckling, she watched him disappear into the back of the shop, went back to her window gazing. And grabbed the wide sill when she saw Marcus standing just outside.
Her heart pounding so hard she could barely breathe, she moved to the door and opened it.
“Hello, Claire.” His deep, sand rough voice wrapped around her. And the ache sitting behind her heart finally let go.
“Marcus.” It took every ounce of control not to jump him right there, in the doorway. In front of every passerby. “Please, come in.”
She stood aside, let him walk past her, closed the door and faced him. He swept her into his arms before she could take in another breath.
“Gods—I never thought to touch you again.” He tightened his grip on her. Claire simply held on, pressing her face in his throat. His scent filled her, musk and spice, with the edge of heat. She lifted her head and he met her lips in a kiss that burned through all the grief of the last months. Breaking off, he rested his forehead against hers. “How are you?”
His casual question startled a laugh out of her. “At this precise moment, stunned.” She leaned back, met his eyes. Gold striated the jade, richer and deeper than she’d ever seen it. “How?”
“You remember.”
“I’d hardly forget watching you all but condemned to death. Jamal made certain I didn’t lose any of it.”
“Typical.” He lowered her to the floor, but kept his arms around her. “He wanted you to remember him.”
“It worked.” And so did the curse/gift he gave her when he cracked the wall to her power. It gave her Zach— “Heaven above—”
She pulled herself out of Marcus’ embrace just as Zach came bounding back into the front of the shop. He skidded to a halt, his smile disappearing.
“Hi.” His quiet voice was anything but welcoming.
Letting out her breath, Claire stepped between them, rubbed Zach’s arm. “Sweetheart, I’d like you to meet a friend of mine. This is Marcus.” She slid her hand down his arm and linked their fingers. “Marcus, this is Zach. My son.”
The two males stared at each other. Surprise flared in Marcus’ eyes; suspicion in Zach’s. After a silence that had Claire ready to say anything to break it, Marcus held out his hand.
“A pleasure, Zach.”
He glanced down at the offered hand, up at Marcus, back down at his hand. The manners Claire drilled into him had him accepting the handshake.
“How long have you known my mom?”
“We met—”
“Annie has invited us to a Christmas Eve dinner.” Panic had her interrupting before Marcus could answer. She still hadn’t figured out how much to tell Zach about his past, or how to explain a supposed gap of what he thought was sixteen years. “Would you like to join us, Marcus?”
“I would be honored.”
“Mom.” Zach tugged on her hand. “Mom—can I see you a minute? In private,” he said, his gaze skating over to Marcus.
“Of course. Will you excuse us?”
Zach practically dragged her into the back room. “Who is that guy?”
“A friend, just as I told you.”
“He looks at you like he—like—” Zach shoved one hand in the pocket of his jeans, the other closing over the amethyst at his throat as he stared at his feet, hair curtaining his face.
“Like what, sweetheart?” Though she pretty much knew the what.
“Like he wants to kiss you!” He looked up at her through the curtain of hair. “Like Annie looks at Eric just before she—you know.”
“Kisses him?”
He made a face. “Yeah.”
“They love each other, Zach, and kissing feels good to them.” She brushed his hair back, lifted his chin. “It’s a connection, a way to show each other how much they care.”