Vision In Love (Legends of The North Book 1) (12 page)

"Hi. I saw you through the window," Matt said as he pulled her through the doorway.

Barney ran off downstairs to the kitchen and she smiled up at Matt, the feeling of sadness easing.

"Hi." His arms wound around her waist and pulled her into his embrace. Gently, she wrapped her arms around him, wondering if his back was sore, because his neck was still red. She leaned back so she could look up into his eyes but before she could say a word, he kissed her. Not a gentle kiss but a demanding, searing one. His tongue ran across her bottom lip before his teeth gently nipped at it. She gasped and he slid his tongue inside, tangling with hers. When he slowly pulled back from her, she struggled to catch her breath. A smile spread slowly across his face and she felt herself mirroring it. The moment was broken when Barney launched his front paws into Matt's stomach to get his attention.

"That's Barney's way of seeing if you wanted to come to dinner tonight."

He gave Barney's head a stroke. "Sounds great, but why don't you come to mine instead?"

"Jess is going out, if that's what you were worried about." She also didn't want to say she wasn't exactly comfortable being at his place after he had been attacked there.

"Where's she going?"

"I don't know. She didn't say and I didn't ask. She's a big girl now. She'll tell me if she wants to." His eyebrows rose and she saw the familiar blush to his cheeks.
 

"Okay."

She smiled at him before placing a gentle kiss on his cheeks. "See you around seven?"

"Okay."

"Come on, Barney, let's go."

***

Matt had arrived at Emma's promptly at seven, and after they had finished dinner, they took their drinks into the living room. Matt took a seat on the sofa and Emma sat at the other end, placing her feet in his lap. Putting his glass down, he gently began to rub her feet, the least he could do after she had fed him.
 

"Have you thought any more about going to see a doctor?"

He turned to look at her and gave her a shake of the head. "Let's not talk about that tonight. Can we just have a normal evening, just the two of us?"

She nodded back at him. "Of course," then giggled as he hit a ticklish spot on her foot.

"So, how's living with my sister going?"

"Better than I thought. I really like her. She even offered to make herself scarce tonight."

His head jerked up at that comment. "Really?"

"Mmhmm."

"I suppose she
is
grown up now. Guess I should probably stop treating her like my kid sister and more like an adult. What about your family?"

"What about them?"

He raised his hands in defence. "Whoa, only asking."

"Sorry."

"What about your sister?"

"We're, not exactly close. We sort of were when we were younger then we just drifted apart. Now, it's like ..." She let out a sigh as she dragged a hand through her hair.
 

Matt squeezed her foot. "It's okay."

"It's just hard to explain. It's like she thinks we're in this weird competition to impress our parents. As though she has to be the better daughter. Our parents played into it, too. They would guilt-trip me about all the good stuff she did that I didn't. The funny thing is I gave up years ago trying to impress my parents, because it's impossible. We don't really see each other. I've seen her maybe once since I got back, apart from at the funeral."

Matt hated the look on her face, knowing that he'd put it there by asking about her family. "Unfortunately, you can't choose your family. I should know. It's been months since I actually spoke to my parents."

"Yeah, Jess mentioned something about that. She said she's going to stay away from them for a while." Unusual for Emma, she felt awkward, not knowing what to say. But then she didn't really want to talk about her family. She didn't really want to talk about anything right then. Pulling her feet from his lap, she placed her wine glass on the table and her feet on the floor.
 

What she wanted was another kiss like earlier, but she wasn't entirely sure where they were headed. Wasn't sure where Matt thought they were headed, but he didn't seem like the love 'em and leave 'em kind of guy. Not that she was looking for anything serious, not after Ben, but she knew she cared about Matt. That much was obvious after he had been attacked.
 

Twisting to face him, her knee brushed against his as he moved closer to her. His hand smoothed over her hair before resting on the nape of her neck. Gently, he pulled her towards him, his lips seeking out hers. He softly traced along her jaw, nipping at her neck.
 

Her hands wound around his neck and into his hair as she tilted her head away from him. Her breath blew across his ear as she whispered, "Stay with me tonight."

He froze at her words and she felt the heat rush into her cheeks at the thought of him turning her down. How embarrassing was this? She dropped her hands and as she did, he leaned over her, coming up onto his knees. When his lips found hers, they were no longer gentle but urgent, pressing her back until she was lying flat on the sofa. His tongue explored her mouth as he held himself over her, hands on either side of her head. He lifted his head and when he did, she felt what she hoped was a yes to her question press hard against her stomach. He looked straight into her eyes as he held himself over her and asked, "Are you sure?"

Did that mean he wasn't? It was just the night; they could still be friends in the morning, couldn't they? She nodded and said, "I am, if you are."

"God, yes. I'm so sure."

Her laugh was cut off as he took her lips with his again and his hand slid down her arm. When she felt his fingers at the waistband of her jeans then brushing against her stomach, she sucked in a breath. Slowly, he made his way up her ribs until his hand cupped her breast and she groaned, arching into his hand as he grazed her already-hardened nipple. She returned the favour as her hands slipped under his T-shirt, finding the flat, hard muscles of his stomach before moving farther up to the faint outline of his pecs. Who would have thought the geeky professor worked out? Not that she was complaining, not at all.
 

As his lips traced down her neck, she reached for the button on his jeans and he pulled back. Standing, he reached down for her. She placed her hand in his and he pulled her to her feet then wrapped his arms around her. Kissing her again, he walked her backwards towards the stairs, only breaking the kiss when they reached the bottom step. He led her up the stairs, hands joined, and a huge smile on her face.

Emma stood on the porch between two stone pillars coiled with white ribbons. The scent of flowers was heavy in the air, and she could hear the murmur of distant voices from inside. As she glanced down, she saw a bouquet of white roses in her hand, the green stems vivid against her white dress. She was getting married, at Altenbury Hall? Alone, she followed the trail of white rose petals until they met a white carpet runner, an aisle. But the room was empty.

"Are you ready?"

She turned at the voice behind her and gasped. The man standing in front of her looked familiar, looked like ... Matt? No, he looked like the man from her last dream. He just stared at her as she continued to gawk open-mouthed at him.

"Are you ready?" he asked, again.

"Ready?" With a shake of her head, she asked, "Ready for what?"

He pointed behind her and she turned back towards the aisle, but it had gone. The room had become sombre, gloomy, as though someone had covered over all the windows. The aisle had disappeared and something seeped from between the bricks, oozing down the walls. She heard a dripping sound coming from beneath her. Her gaze dropped to the bouquet in her hands, a bouquet of blood-red poppies that were dissolving into a puddle at her feet. Streaks of red dripped down the silk and lace of her dress. She dropped the bouquet, but it was too late; her hands were covered in the warm, red liquid.
 

Covering her mouth with a hand, she could smell the metallic tang of blood. And there at her feet, drowning in a pool of blood, was the man, the one who reminded her of Matt. She tried to pull him out of the pool but he kept slipping through her blood-slicked hands. She screamed from frustration and the ugliness of the scene before her. She screamed again and began to shake.

"Ssh, it's okay. You're okay."

She quit screaming at the sound of Matt's voice beside her. The shaking stopped as his arm came around her shoulder. Panting, she closed her eyes, trying to calm her racing heart. Matt rubbed his hand across her back, soothing her as she tried to match her breathing to his.
 

"Do you want to talk about it?"

Opening her eyes, she wondered if she should tell him about being at Altenbury Hall. She opened her mouth to tell him but instead said, “Oh, God.” Swallowing hard, she jumped out of bed and ran into the bathroom, not bothering with the light. Turning both taps on, she started scrubbing both her hands. She heard Matt behind her as he switched on the light, heard his quick intake of breath as he saw the pink liquid swirling down the sink. She lifted her gaze and met his wide eyes in the mirror.

***

Emma's hands still shook as Matt handed her a cup of cocoa. It was one thing telling him about her visions, but another to have him right next to her when they happened. Finding mud on her feet would have been bad enough, but to find blood on her hands? She was amazed he was still there.
 

He stood with his back resting against the sink, his ankles crossed; he seemed calm enough. Calmer than her, except for the hard set of his jaw. He looked at her expectantly. Taking a deep breath, she let it out onto her cocoa to try to cool it and the steam blurred her vision. She couldn't bring herself to look at him, but she started to tell him.
 

"I was ... I was getting married, I think. I had the dress on and the bouquet, but I was the only person there. Then a man asked me if I was ready." She knew she hadn't told him the more important details, maybe later when it wasn't so fresh in his memory. But she couldn't avoid telling him this part. "I thought he was you. He looked like you, but it wasn't. It wasn't his blood, but he was drowning in it. Blood from my bouquet, and I tried to save him but I couldn't. I just couldn't. I couldn't hold onto him, and he just kept slipping. I tried, I tried!"

"Shh, it's okay."

The warmth of his arms around her had her eyes watering. She leaned her head against his chest, breathing in his familiar scent.

"It wasn't real. Not
real
real."

She knew what he meant; it couldn't be real. Some man who looked like Matt couldn't have just drowned in a pool of poppy blood. Rubbing a hand across her forehead, she pulled back so she could look into his eyes.
 

"He looked so much like you, but his eyes were blue. His hair was shorter, almost black. His nose was bigger than yours, crooked like he might have broken it at some time."

Matt closed his eyes, dropped his arms from around her, and left the kitchen. Emma stared after him, unsure if she should follow or leave him alone. Was he leaving? But she heard the creak of the stairs, his footsteps muffled overhead as he walked to her bedroom. The creak again had her holding her breath until he walked back into the kitchen. He held out a crumpled piece of paper to her and she took it. She realised it was a photo, and her breath caught in her throat as she stared at the five people in it. Stared at a younger version of the man from her dream, but still unmistakably him. She tore her eyes from the photo back to Matt, tears stinging as she saw the tight lines around his mouth and the glimmer in his eyes.

"I don't understand. This is your brother, isn't it?"

Matt nodded in response but didn't say a word.

"I don't know your brother, never even met him. Didn't know what he looked like, so how could I see him? Oh, it explains why I was at Altenbury Hall!"

Matt's eyebrows drew down as his eyes narrowed. "You were getting married at Altenbury Hall? Were you marrying my brother?"

"What? God, no."
How did this night take a turn for the even more bizarre?
"Matt, you said yourself it's not real."

He dragged a hand through his hair then wiped it across his mouth. "I know, it's just ..." He held his hands out to her and she knew how he felt.

"I know. I don't know who I was marrying. There was nobody else there, just the two of us. It felt more like he was getting ready to give me away, to be honest, until ... you know."

Matt opened his mouth but before he could say anything, they both heard a scratching sound. Matt moved to stand in front of Emma but relaxed when he heard the familiar giggle.

"I think Jess may have had a few too many."

As they both reached the hallway, the front door swung open, Jess still attached to it as she fell to her knees. Matt rolled his eyes but went to put his arm around her to help her up. She looked up at his touch.
 

"Hey, bro." She slapped her hand against his cheek a couple of times before Matt held it in his own.

"Hey, Jess. You had a few to drink?"

"Nah." Jess looked towards Emma leaned against the wall, a grin on her face. "Emma," Jess said, as though she hadn't seen her for months. Jess glanced from one to the other. "Oops, did I interrupt? I thought you two would still be at it like–“

"Jess," Matt exclaimed as he dragged her to her feet. "Upstairs. Now."
 

He dragged Jess towards the stairs, but not before she could tell Emma, "He can be so bossy sometimes. Bet he can be masterful, too." She tried to wink at Emma, but it looked more like a bad twitch before she disappeared up the stairs. Emma couldn't help but laugh at her, but the laugh died on her lips as she watched Matt disappear. It wasn't exactly the way she had imagined their first night together going. Well, not the latter part anyway.

***

Awkward. That one word just about summed up how it felt the next morning. After Jess had been put to bed, neither of them had brought up the vision again. Emma had to admit she thought Matt was more embarrassed by Jess's comments than she was, but it just added to the tension. She sat staring into her coffee mug as Matt finished his toast. The silence was becoming unbearable, but she couldn't think of anything to say that didn't relate to the night before. Jess stumbled into the kitchen, her hair looking like a nest of snakes as she mumbled, "Coffee. Need coffee."