Fantasyland: Midnight Soul Part 86

"Circe will be attired charmingly and is quite all right," I informed him.

His mouth quirked before he asked, "So what's with that look on your face?"

"It has occurred to me I might be forced to actually like this Glover man for Josette."

Noc burst out laughing.

I slid on one of the stools, enjoying watching him doing this at the same time deciding that it was most a.s.suredly a day where an early gla.s.s of wine was in order.

I then watched him put a lid on the steaks, still chuckling, and continued watching as he turned to the refrigerator.

His manner was relaxed.

His expression was not content, not with that smile.

He was happy.

But as I watched, and did it closely, after having the conversation with Circe that I'd had, I noticed something for the first time. Something that my dearest love had so deeply hidden, the glimpses he'd given me of it had not penetrated my conscious. Something that made my stomach twist so violently, it was a struggle not to jump from my seat and rush to the bathroom.

Because what I saw was that it was not I who was convinced I had a midnight soul.

It was my love who was drowning in the darkness of what he thought was his.

I was impatient.

And angry.

What on earth was the man doing?

I didn't care.

I'd had enough.

"Noc, my dearest, I'm worried about the potatoes," I declared.

I sat with Circe at Noc's attractive outdoor table that was made of iron and had striped pads. A Circe who had long, slender fingers to the stem of her winegla.s.s, twisting it this way and that. A Circe who was sitting with me-alone with me-while the men stood by Noc's gleaming steel grilling apparatus on the other side of what Noc called his "deck."

Dax had been there precisely twenty minutes.

I'd counted.

And he'd said precisely twenty-nine words to Circe.

I'd counted those too.

The rest of the time, he drank from the bottle of ale Noc had given him and chatted.

With Noc.

I stood as Noc turned his gaze to me.

"The potatoes?" he asked.

"Indeed," I snapped, glaring at him, then at Dax.

I rearranged my expression to give a rea.s.suring look to a visibly stricken (from fear at my leaving as well as taking Noc with me) and anxious Circe (making me consider magical castration or at the very least impotence if Dax didn't pull his b.l.o.o.d.y finger out). Then, trying not to stomp (and failing in this endeavor), I moved into the house.

I did not go to the potatoes, which I was sure were roasting splendidly in the oven where Noc had placed them.

I went to the living room, whirled, put my hands to my hips and tapped my toe, watching Noc approach me slowly.

Noc got close and asked, "You okay?"

"No, I am not," I stated the obvious.

"What's the matter?" he asked.

What was the matter?

Was he blind?

"That's the matter," I bit out, lifting an arm and pointing a finger toward the back of his house. "Dax has barely spoken to Circe. And, I don't believe I have to impart this information on you, but I shall do it regardless, he's not here to fall in love with you."

Noc got closer and dipped his voice lower. "Babe, he's playing it cool."

I felt my eyebrows shoot up. "It's hardly time to do that!"

He got even closer, putting a hand to my waist, ordering sternly, "Calm down and keep your voice down."

"You're a very good cook, but I'll also share that he's not here to partake of your talents in the kitchen." My voice rose again. "Circe is freaking!"

He did one of his eyebrows-raising-slow-blinks and asked, "Freaking?"

"Yes. Freaking. She's being quiet about it but I can feel her unease."

"Freaking," he said again, his lips twitching.

Was I seeing what I was seeing?

My brows snapped together. "Did I miss something amusing?"

His lips were still twitching when he lied, "No."

I couldn't be dealing with Noc's inappropriate humor.

I had bigger things to deal with.

"Speak with him," I demanded.

He slid his hand from my waist to the small of my back and got even closer, taking my hand in his other and lifting both to set them on his chest.

"Okay, you were there the other night and that night, Circe really freaked."

"Yes, indeed, I was there so you don't have to remind me of this occurrence," I agreed.

"You think his best play is to get here and come on strong?"

I'd not heard the terminology "come on strong."

Still, it was not lost on me.

Neither was his point.

I pressed my lips together.

"He's giving her some s.p.a.ce," Noc told me.

"He needs to stop doing that," I told him.

"He will, when the time is right," he said.

"That time was fifteen minutes ago," I retorted.

"Just let them play it out," he advised.

"Noc, my darling, if he thinks she's going to approach, he'll be waiting until the world stops turning."

He bent his neck so his face was close to mine.

"He's not waiting for her to approach, sweetheart, he was waiting for us to check on the potatoes."

I stared at him.

"You think he's not in her s.p.a.ce right now, or as in it is he can get without flipping her out?" Noc asked.

I leaned a bit to the side to look down Noc's long house toward the back door. I could see nothing from there. I could hear nothing.

I looked back to Noc. "Let's go to the window in your bedroom and peer through to check on them."

More twitching of his lips before he denied, "We're not gonna spy on them."

It was then, something else occurred to me.

"You've put the meat on the fire. What if what they have to do takes too long and the steaks burn?"

"Babe, do you give a s.h.i.t you eat a burned steak tonight?"

Of course I did. Steak was delicious, I liked my food and I particularly liked a medium rare steak.

Burned would be abysmal.

Of course, I would eat a burned steak should Dax be seeing to things.

I just wouldn't like it.

I made a decision.

"You may not wish to spy on them but I'm going to," I declared, pulled from his hold and moved around him.

"Frannie," he called.

I kept walking, careful to keep my eyes on the back door should one of them appear in it and see me.

This didn't happen so I was able to duck into Noc's room.

I quickly made my way to the windows, and just as quickly-and expertly-situated myself in a location where I could see but it would be difficult to see me.

I lifted my hand and parted the slats on Noc's blinds.

I peered out.

Noc was correct. Dax was no longer standing by Noc's grilling apparatus. He'd gone to the table where Circe was sitting.

He'd not only gone to it, he'd pulled a chair around the table so that it was near hers, and sat in it.

And he was not only sitting in it, he was turned at the waist, his intent to share she had his entire attention, as she continued to fidget with her winegla.s.s shyly but appeared to be doing this while speaking to Dax.

This being a Dax who was very much all ears, appearing like every word she spoke was a Sjofn ice diamond dropping from her mouth.

My.

I felt Noc come up behind me, seeing out of the corner of my eye as he opened his own slats to peer out.

He did this grouching irritably, "I can't believe I'm doin' this s.h.i.t."

I ignored that and whispered, like we were out on the deck and not separated by distance and the outer wall of a house, "He's made his approach."

"Told you," Noc did not whisper back.

"He appears enamored," I noted.

"Are you surprised?" Noc asked.

"No," I answered. "Just pleased he's no longer 'playing it cool' and is now showing his interest."

Circe stopped speaking, Dax's lips moved as he said something, and we watched as Circe's body gave a surprised start before her head bowed back in a graceful way and we heard the dulcet tones of her humor drift through the windowpane.