Fantasyland: Midnight Soul Part 84

She'd pulled up her courage and was showing him a brave face.

He was glad for it because he didn't hope he was right about this world's Dax Lahn.

What he saw last night he knew he was right and he wanted that for her.

"Early," he said. "I've texted you my address, show at four. I'll be cooking. Franka will be watching me do it and talking to you. We'll ask him to be there at six."

She tried to hide her nervous swallow and nodded.

Noc lifted a hand, wrapped his fingers briefly around the side of her neck and gave her a smile.

"See you tomorrow," he said as his goodbye.

"Tomorrow, Noc."

He turned to leave and took two steps but stopped when she called his name.

"You can think what you want but I know. Franka and I have different stories, but we were both left in the same darkness," she said quietly. "So I know. If this man is that man for me, I will be the lucky one. And you being the man you are, the only man for Franka, so is she."

Before he could say a word, she shut the door.

He stared at it for a beat and then he didn't give it another second.

Or another thought.

He walked to his Suburban, got in and made a phone call.

Franka was pacing.

Noc was leaning a hip against his island, phone to his ear, listening to it ringing, focus on Frannie.

"Baby, calm down," he urged.

She stopped instantly, caught his eyes and hers narrowed.

"Calm? This man might have spent the last sixteen hours convincing himself we're insane and he wants nothing to do with us, including Circe. Valentine has made certain he doesn't go after her and he hasn't, but she doesn't have the power to read his thoughts."

She'd counted the hours.

That was cute.

He didn't have a chance to further rea.s.sure her.

The phone stopped ringing and a man answered with, "Lahn."

"Lahn, this is Noc Hawthorne."

"Did she get home okay?"

Noc dropped his head and grinned at his feet.

He hadn't spent the last sixteen hours convincing himself they were insane.

Noc saw Franka's hand land on his chest and he lifted his eyes to her, still grinning.

Her shoulders fell in relief.

"Hawthorne," Dax bit out. "You there?"

"Yes, I'm here and she got home okay, p.i.s.sed as h.e.l.l we tried to set her up but okay. Went 'round and talked to her this morning. She's not been in a place for a while to take a shot at certain things but I pointed out she's gotta find that place. In other words, we'd like to know if you'd come to dinner tomorrow, my place, Frannie, me and Circe. Six."

"Text me your address, I'll be there."

Noc nearly burst out laughing.

His efforts at not doing that made his next words sound choked.

"Will do."

Frannie pressed in at his chest and gave him wide what-the-h.e.l.l-is-going-on eyes.

He rounded her with an arm.

"Tomorrow," Dax grunted.

"Yeah, man. See you then," Noc replied.

Dax hung up.

Noc dropped his phone from his ear and started chuckling.

"What?" Franka asked.

"He's coming to dinner."

She lifted her other hand to his chest and pressed both in, beaming and declaring, "By the G.o.ds, this pleases me."

Noc was pleased too but he was more pleased seeing how much she was.

She remained pleased for about two seconds before she got down to business.

"No Fleuridian wine tomorrow, Noc," she bossed. "I don't want her thinking of home. Not the good of Fleuridian wine and definitely not the bad she was treated to there. I want her head firmly in this world."

"Aye, aye captain," he said on a grin.

Her eyes narrowed again.

"This is no jest. We have to plan this carefully. He's taken with her but we're her people. He mustn't think less of her because he thinks less of us. To that end, what are you making for dinner?"

"I thought-" he started.

"Fillet steak en croute with pte and sauteed mushrooms," she demanded.

Noc beat back his chuckles.

"Babe, I'm not making beef Wellington."

"That's what that's called here?" she asked.

"Uh, yeah, and it's tricky and a pain in the a.s.s. I'll make steak, though, and fire up the grill."

"That's acceptable," she agreed. "We'll serve it with patates royales."

"What the f.u.c.k is that?" he asked.

"I don't know," she answered. "It's potatoes, and I would say cream, salt, pepper, other things. They're mashed to creamy goodness then piped into fluffy parcels and baked-"

"Frannie, I'm not pipin' s.h.i.t into fluffy anything and not just because I have no clue how to pipe."

"They're delicious and elegant," she returned impatiently.

It was time to nip this in the bud.

"Right, gorgeous. You got a choice of loaded baked or mashed or we can go out tomorrow and buy a deep fat fryer so I can fry some frozen French fries. I'll grill some asparagus. And this is New Orleans, there's gonna be about seven thousand places we can go to find really f.u.c.kin' good desserts and even better rolls. That'll be our mission for the rest of the day. If you want, you can buy a couple four hundred dollar bottles of wine and a kicka.s.s whisky, which, my guess, is this dude's thing. And that's what we're doing without me having to pipe anything or wrestle with pastry dough. You with me?"

She wasn't with him and she shared that by declaring, "My ideas for the menu are far more impressive."

"And if you want, instead we can spend the day finding a chef who'll haul his a.s.s to my house to make them since I'm not doin' any of that."

She glared at him.

He fought the need to kiss her.

He won the fight but did it wrapping both arms around her, pulling her closer and dipping his face to hers.

"He's into her, babe. He's not gonna even taste anything we put in front of him. We could serve him a box of cardboard painted like a beef Wellington and he would probably eat it. He has no clue the forces that are drawing him to Circe. He's also a man who doesn't care. His gut says go for it, he's going for it. He'll handle this. He'll do all the work. We're just gonna be there so she's in a safe place in her head to let him."

She looked appeased and acted it, snuggling closer.

"And she was good with you earlier? She seemed bolstered?" she asked.

"Told you that, baby. She's a little freaked but she's powering through it."

Frannie started fiddling with the collar of his shirt, her eyes dropping to her fingers to watch.

"Also told you she feels bad about what she said to you," he reminded her.

She lifted her eyes but kept her fingers at his shirt. "She shouldn't."

"I know you think that but that's who she is." He bent his head closer to her. "Before we go to the market, you wanna call her? Check in?"

Her eyes lit with a cautious light.

"Do you think she'd welcome that?"

He nodded.

"Then it would please me to do this before we go to the market."

He gave her a squeeze. "You got her number in your phone, babe."

She gave a short nod that time, rolled up on her toes and touched her mouth to his before she pulled away.

She went to her purse sitting on his island, its location meaning she was all the way on the other side of it before she spoke again.

"After I ascertain all is well, I'll ask her opinion about the menu."

Noc grinned.

His little schemer.

She could connive all she wanted.

Circe wasn't going to taste anything either.

h.e.l.l, what he saw last night, he wouldn't be surprised if Dax swept his dining-room table free of dishes and food, and Circe climbed up herself necessitating Franka and Noc giving them some privacy.

This meant he was doing his woman on the dining-room table that night.

If anyone was going to f.u.c.k there, it was going to be him and his sweet little schemer who broke the seal.

Chapter Twenty-Two.

Happy?

Franka "Not that one, the one you had on before," Josette declared.

It was late the next afternoon and Jo and I were lounging atop Noc's bed, Valentine standing at its side behind us, as Circe stood in the doorway of Noc's bathroom having just shown us the third outfit she'd brought to wear for our dinner with Dax.