Home>>read Darknight free online

Darknight(35)

By:Christine Pope


Pale morning light peeking through the blinds woke me. I blinked up at the ceiling, thinking of how I had awoken in this apartment just a few short days ago, and how much had changed in the intervening time. For there was Connor sprawled next to me, the white wintry daylight casting his perfect profile into sharp relief. I’d no longer have to sleep alone. He’d always be there next to me.

I saw his eyelids flutter, and he shifted, letting out a little groan as he stretched. “What time is it?” he asked.

There was a clock identical to the one in the guest bedroom on his nightstand. “Seven-fifteen. I’m sorry I woke you.”

He pushed himself to a sitting position and ran a hand through his hair, making various locks stand on end, and in the process making him look even more adorable. “No, it’s fine. I’m not a late riser. Besides, there’s something I want to show you.”

“Oh, yeah?” I inquired in suggestive tones. “I thought you showed me that last night.”

“Very funny. Seriously, get into some clothes. We can shower later.”

I didn’t miss the “we” in that sentence and wondered if I was finally going to find out whether that big shower really did work well for two. But I figured I could leave that for now, so I retrieved my clothes from where I’d tossed them over a chair last night, right before collapsing into bed, and climbed back into them. Connor did the same, putting on his underwear and jeans, then a T-shirt and sweater. He pulled on his socks and shoes, heavy quasi-hiking boots similar to what I’d seen Damon wearing a few days earlier, while I slid into my riding boots.

“Come on,” Connor said, and I followed him downstairs, running my fingers through my hair and wishing I had an elastic band to pull it back. It felt like a snarled mess.

We paused at the coat closet. He reached in and handed me a beautiful knee-length wool coat in a deep shade of green. Stuffed into the pockets were a pair of flannel-lined black leather gloves. I gave him a questioning look.

“Well, we kind of hoped you wouldn’t be stuck in here indefinitely. Marie picked that out when she was buying some other things for you. Does it fit okay?”

“It’s perfect,” I said, slipping it on and buttoning it up.

At the same time he was getting into his charcoal-gray peacoat. “Good. Let’s go.”

He opened the front door, and I followed him into the hallway, eyeing my surroundings with interest. After all, when I was brought here, I’d been blindfolded and hadn’t seen anything of the place except the interior of Connor’s apartment. The hallway was a short one, with a door directly opposite the one we exited now, and then a staircase leading down. The floor was wood, the walls brick. And it was cold in here, much colder than inside the apartment, which led me to believe that no one bothered to heat the interior corridor.

“What’s over there?” I asked, pointing at the door across the landing. “Another apartment?”

“Well, it was, but I bought the whole building, with the gallery and both apartments. I use that one for my studio now.”

As I pondered that, we went down the stairs to the ground floor of the building, and through another short hallway that opened directly outside. As soon as Connor opened the door, a gust of freezing air hit my face, and I blinked, then quickly pulled the gloves out of my coat pockets and pulled them on.

Connor didn’t miss much. He saw what I was doing, and remarked, “A little colder than Jerome?”

“Just a little,” I replied, trying to keep my teeth from chattering and only partially succeeding. Actually, I was sort of shocked by how much colder it was here, considering that Jerome in December wasn’t exactly sunny Palm Beach, either. But this was the kind of cold that actually made your teeth hurt. I wondered what the temperature was.

“I’ll get the heater going once we’re in the car. It’s just over here.”

I noticed that an alley backed up to the brick building, and behind the building were a few spots with little “reserved” signs in front of them. In one of those parking spaces was a shiny dark green Toyota FJ Cruiser, the kind of vehicle I’d secretly coveted for a few years, even though I’d known it was silly to want a second vehicle when my Aunt Rachel and I did perfectly well sharing the Jeep.

Connor pulled out his keys and used the remote to unlock it, while I trailed after him and then went over to the passenger side. I couldn’t help wondering how much money the Wilcoxes really had. Sure, we McAllisters were definitely comfortable, but we didn’t flaunt our wealth. After seeing Damon’s Range Rover, and noting the way Connor didn’t seem to particularly care how much things cost, I had to think that they were doing okay. More than okay, actually.