I Wish (28 page)

I had to figure out some way to fix it. “Well,” I said, trying to infuse a professional tone to my voice, “I’ll take over now.” I ducked out of his arms and walked away from him.

“Is something wrong?”

“Not at all.” I knew my behavior puzzled him, but I didn’t know how to explain. “You’ve officially completed this wish. So thank you. I’ll handle the rest.”

“Lacey, please—”

“Hey,” Henry interrupted, poking his head in the open door of the studio. “There’s a lady here to see you and Mom.”

His statement bathed me in an icy stream of fear.

I didn’t even need to ask him who. The social worker had returned—far sooner than I would’ve expected. I clutched the edge of the worktable, as my legs were as stable as Jell-O. “Where is she?”

“Right here, Miss Linden.” Camarin Paxton stepped into the studio, her heels making muffled taps on the concrete floor. “Don’t worry about finding your mother this time. I’ve already had a conversation with her.”

“What?” My head swam. I hadn’t seen Mom this afternoon. I didn’t know if this was a good day or a bad one, and either could have its problems. On good days, she might say too much. Like…had she mentioned that Grant hid her during the last visit?

Grant was staring hard at the visitor. “What are you doing here, Camarin?”

With fingers grasping the table to keep from swaying, I looked toward him. “You know her?”

He gave a curt nod, his glare never wavering from Ms. Paxton’s face.

Her expression was calm, her gaze unblinking. “I’ve come to ensure that this family has what it needs. Why else?”

“They are doing fine without you.”

“That’s not your call.” She turned to me. “I’m satisfied with what I see for now. Do you have any questions for me before I go?”

“I do.” I tried to calm my breathing and clear my head. I had to find out what she knew without revealing my fear. It didn’t help that the tension radiating off of Grant blasted me like a hot wind. “What is the Department of Social Investigations? This county has Child Protective Services.”

She smiled kindly. “Our institution is not part of your county government. It’s organized at a higher level.”

Grant snorted. “Indeed.”

Her lips tightened, but she didn’t respond.

“Will you be returning for another visit?” I asked.

“No,” he said.

“It’s possible,” she said.

All right. I had to know what was going on. “How do you know Grant?”

Her gaze flicked from me to him. “We’ve worked together on projects before.”

“We’re not likely to do that again,” he said, his voice strained.

“I hope we will.” She spoke intently, as if only to him. “Your skills are exceptional, Grant. You could be one of the chosen.”

He stiffened. “You can’t know that.”

“Yes, I can.” She studied him, her glass-green eyes almost wistful behind her trendy red frames. “Be careful which path you take. Decisions have consequences.”

She nodded at me, spun on her heel, and clopped to the exit. Henry had to step aside to let her pass. I’d forgotten he was there.

My brother frowned at me, his eyes widened. “What was that all about, Lacey?”

I forced my lips to curve into an unconcerned smile. “No big deal. Just a friendly person checking on us.”

“Grant doesn’t like her.”

My BSB visibly relaxed. “Your sister’s right. It’s not a problem, Henry. Camarin said she was satisfied. I’m sure that’s true.”

“Okay.” My brother darted into the backyard.

Grant turned to the worktable, busily lifting a pair of shoes and carrying them to a plastic bin. When he turned around, I was waiting. “Who is she?”

“Camarin Paxton.”

“That’s not what I meant, and you know it.” I met his gaze unflinchingly. “Where did you meet?”

“I can’t say.”

“Is it a secret?”

“An oath.” His chin jutted out in challenge. “I can reveal nothing else about our association.”

“So she’s a BSB.”

He looked away from me, but not before I’d seen a flash of acknowledgement in his eyes.

“Grant, we have to talk about this.”

He lifted me onto the worktable and stepped between my legs, his hands resting lightly on my hips. “What do you want to know?”

“She mentioned decisions having consequences. What does that mean?”

“Camarin had no business providing a commentary on my actions.”

“But she did, so tell me.”

He leaned forward for a kiss, sweet and brief, before responding. “Once I’m on a leave of absence, I’ll have to find somewhere to stay besides the church.”

His beautiful, comfortable, black-and-white home? “Why?”

He watched me steadily through narrowed eyes. “I can’t run the risk of finding myself trapped inside it one day.”

“How could you be trapped?”

“The nutrient deliveries will stop.”

Not good. A whisper of unease curled inside me. “And once the food stops, you lose your powers?”

“Yes.”

I locked my hands behind his neck. It was lovely, sitting here with him, entwined in each other’s arms. Yet I had to think through what he’d said, even though there was part of me that was scared to learn anything else. “Will you lose your acute senses?”

“No.”

“Wow, Grant. How does that work?”

“It will be fine. Trust me.” His green eyes glittered with intensity. “I’ll darken the windows in the studio and put my hammock up here. I’ll eat bland food. I can do this.”

“How long will you be able to stand it?”

He smiled. “I can stand anything as long as we’re together.”

I loved it when he said things like that. It took the edge off my fears. “What happens if we break up?”

“I resume my apprenticeship.”

Okay. That didn’t sound too bad, but there had to be more. I could hear it in his voice. “Does your apprenticeship resume where you left off?”

He hesitated. “No.”

“Then where?”

“There will be a period of readjustment.”

“Which means…?”

“I can anticipate new assignments.”

“How many?”

“I may require several cases to reassess the stability of my emotional skills.”

“Several?” Wow. My head hummed with the possibilities. “How long could that take?”

“Not long.”

“Months?”

He shrugged. “Possibly.”

I wiggled away from him, slid off the table, and crossed to the doorway to stare out into the yard. I didn’t like these consequences. It seemed too harsh when he was only one assignment away from promotion. “You’re giving up a lot.”

He stepped behind me and drew me back against him. “I knew the consequences when I made the offer. I want to do this. I want to be with you. Please don’t worry about it.”

I didn’t want to worry about it. I wanted to believe him and be happy. “Are you sure?”

He answered me with a kiss. A thoroughly hot, achingly sweet kiss.

When the kiss ended, he nuzzled my cheek and said, “Please, Lacey, let this go. It will be fine. Trust me.”

“Okay.” I leaned into his arms, humbled by how much he loved me. And hoping that my love for him could prove half as strong.

Status Report #25
Monday’s Wish: Shoe Production

Dear Boss,

Why did you send Camarin again? Were you truly concerned about my work for this family? Or was her real goal to remind me of the gravity of what I’m about to do?

I have made my choice. After reviewing the Leave of Absence Protocol, I’m clear about its directives. I understand that I am to contact you only if I wish to return to the League—and that you will monitor me only in case of a health emergency that requires an immediate extraction.

Do not concern yourself about Lacey’s family. I have met their needs well, and I will continue to serve them on my leave of absence. I resent the implication that my judgment is clouded or my skills compromised by human love.

I have unfinished business here. Crystal is at a fragile stage in her improvement. If I leave as scheduled, she will suffer. Henry and I have become good friends. I am not prepared to abandon him yet.

And Lacey? I cannot fathom the thought of saying goodbye. I love her. It makes no sense for us to part.

You encourage Beings to understand love. Why then are you throwing up obstacles when I wish to experience it for myself?

Please do not investigate again. Camarin’s presence has raised unnecessary questions in Lacey’s mind. I am comfortable with my decision.

Humbly submitted,
Grant

I
finished my shift at the bookstore Tuesday around six and hurried home, eager to see Grant. I headed straight to the studio.

It was empty. I knew Grant wasn’t in his music box, because I could feel his presence even when I couldn’t see him.

I ran into the kitchen. It was deserted also, but there were voices coming from the formal dining room. I peeked through its doorway and gasped.

The table had been set for two, complete with a linen tablecloth, candles, and a small bouquet of flowers in an old crystal vase.

“Wow, this is gorgeous. What’s the occasion?”

Mom, Henry, and Grant turned. My mother and my brother laughed and then brushed past me to disappear into the kitchen.

Grant crossed to me. “It’s a date.”

“Like a romantic, just-the-two-of-us date?” Could happiness make a person explode? It sure didn’t feel like I could keep it all in.

“Yes.” He dropped a light kiss on my mouth. “We all cooked.”

“Wow.” I adored him. Really adored him. How could it possibly be true that he loved me? It was crazy and wonderful. “Should I change clothes?”

“No. You’re perfect the way you are. Let’s sit.” At my nod, he held a chair for me and then sat beside me. “Ready,” he called out.

Henry walked, carefully holding two small plates filled with pickles, olives, and carrot sticks. With a big grin, he said, “I made the appetizer.”

“It looks amazing.” I smiled. “You know how much I like pickles.”

“I do. That’s why I added them.” Henry smacked both plates onto the table and ran back the way he came.

I looked over at Grant and found him watching me. I caught his hand in mine and pressed a kiss to its palm. “Thank you. I love this.”

He leaned closer to me and kissed me. Hard, hot, and delicious. It ended too soon. I wanted more.

“There will be time for kissing later.” Grant smiled. “We’d better eat.”

I nodded. “Can you tolerate pickles?”

He shook his head.

“I’ll have yours.”

For five days, everything had gone so well. Grant had used the word “enchanted” with me, and it was true. It was like I’d stepped into a dream, and it was too lovely to wake up.

Henry and Mom were the waiters for our romantic dinner. They served us pasta, then leftover apple pie. When the meal was over, they took away the dishes. We could hear them banging around as they washed up.

I looked cautiously at Grant, wondering what would come next because I wasn’t ready for our evening to end.

He stood and held out his hand. “Shall we take a walk?”

“I’d love to.”

It would be hard to describe this date to anyone. We strolled through the neighborhood, hands clasped securely, as night fell softly around us. It would probably sound boring, but it was delightful. We talked when we had something to say, kissed often, and relaxed into the silences, when the feelings were too intense to spoil with words. Each touch, smile, laugh—sweet and magical in their own way.

Eventually, we returned to the house and headed for the wrought-iron bench in the backyard, where he promptly cradled me in his lap.

The perfect ending to the perfect date.

I snuggled against him, sighing as his arms tightened about me. “I still can’t believe you’re staying with us.”

“Believe it.” His lips brushed my temple. “I’ve chosen you—
us
—for as long as you’ll have me.”

I’d want him for a long time. I lost myself to the moment, so very happy, and allowed my thoughts to drift.

Believe it
.

I did.

I’ve chosen you
.

Chosen? His BSB friend had used that same word yesterday.

I’d been too distracted at the time to ask what it meant, but I was curious to know now. “Ms. Paxton said that you could be one of the chosen. For what?”

The change in his demeanor was immediate and dramatic. He became tense. Agitated. “Special assignments.” His voice was strained.

I looked up into his face, but he didn’t meet my gaze. Something about my question had upset him in a powerful way. “Would you like them?”

“Yes.”

“What kinds of assignments?”

“I don’t know,” he said with great reluctance.

“You don’t know what they are, but you would like them.” I laid a gentle hand on his cheek and turned him so that he had to look at me. “Are the assignments a secret?”

He gave a curt nod.

Secret assignments that he didn’t know about but still wanted? The awful truth twisted inside me. “She thinks you have a shot at the level with no name.”

“She cannot possibly know that.” Uncertainty flickered in his eyes.

“But your boss could, and he might have sent her.”

“Perhaps.”

“Grant.” I studied him, desperate to understand. “It’s your dream to be promoted to that elite level.”

“I have changed my dreams.”

Wow.

Slowly I slid off his lap. He had hidden this from me because he’d expected me to react badly. He was right. I walked a few paces away and stared into the darkness of the yard. “What does it take to qualify for the elite level?” I asked, trying hard to control the quiver in my voice.

“Exceptional skills. An unblemished record.” He rose and came to stand beside me. “There are others that we aren’t allowed to know.”

“Am I a blemish?”

“Lacey.” He wrapped an arm around my waist and pulled me to him. “Stop worrying about this. I know what I’m doing.”

I couldn’t stop. I’d begun to believe in a future with him because the consequences had seemed manageable. But this?

“What if you knew for sure that you were trading away a shot at elite?”

A shudder passed through his body. “I would not be happy to learn such a thing. However, I think the risk is quite low. It is not logical to offer us a benefit that stunts our career.”