Operation: Winter Cupid Page 2

Ella sipped her drink, wincing when the straw gurgled indicating she was out of soda. She’d managed to make the glass last for the last two hours. Every time the waiter offered her a refill, she’d waved him off, telling herself any minute now she’d cut the conversation short with Josh, and they’d go their separate ways.

  She was having too much fun though. Talking openly wasn’t something she did, and it had been ages since she’d enjoyed a conversation so much. They clicked in a way she hadn’t realized existed.

  That and she swore every time things crossed the line into heavy innuendo, his pupils dilated, and he leaned in closer. Which was fine with her. Even if she couldn’t enjoy more than this meal with him, she was stockpiling a wide array of fantasies to keep her company over the next few nights.

  Images of what it would feel like to have those arms pin her down. To feel his mouth on hers, the rough scrape of five o’clock shadow on her skin. Dampness grew between her legs as she let her mind trip over the thoughts.

  “I was at a brand new company, right?” He was animated when he spoke. Arms moving, expression shifting with every word. They were swapping horror stories about jobs. “I’d been there less than two months, and didn’t know hardly anyone.”

  She rested her arms on the table, and leaned in. “I have a hard time believing you didn’t make friends with everyone your first day there.” The teasing rolled into her tone without thought.

  “Well it’s true.” He scooted his chair closer, until his knee brushed hers. “Anyway. Apparently every Christmas they did this gag gift exchange. Everyone pulled a name from the hat, got that person a gag gift, and we all had to open our presents in front of the entire company at the annual party.”

  His wit was turning her on as much as his body. Such a delicious combination. He continued. “I thought I’d be clever. I thought gag gift, and the first thing that came to mind was literal.” He paused, searching her face. “As in, a ball gag.”

  Delicious heat flooded her skin, and she laughed. “You didn’t.”

  “I absolutely did. And I promise you I knew everyone after that night. For the couple of years I was there, every Christmas around party time, people would talk about how ‘no one will ever top what Josh did.’”

  “I would have died of embarrassment.”

  “I’d get you something a little more subtle.” He winked. “A blindfold maybe.”

  Wetness pooled between her legs at the suggestion, and her reply came out breathy. “I like the sound of that.” Was she really flirting openly with this guy? She couldn’t believe her own boldness.

  A question popped into her head, not for the first time that night. She almost didn’t want to ask, afraid she might actually get an answer this time, but curiosity won out. “You changed the subject every time I’ve asked you this. Do you do this often? Invite random strangers to dinner just to let them bend your ear?”

  She didn’t know why she kept pushing the issue. She should accept she was special and leave it at that.

  His gaze dropped to the table for a moment before be looked at her again. “Honestly?”

  That wasn’t what he was supposed to say. He was supposed to come back with a rapid fire, Yes, you’re the only one. “Yes. Honestly.”

  “Yes and no.”

  Not the answer she’d been hoping for, and it definitely didn’t clear anything up. Her gut sank with heavy disappointment. “Could you be more specific?”

  He drummed his fingers on the table. The first time all night she’d seen him fidget. Ill-ease filled her. What was so difficult to answer about this one question?

  His exhale echoed through the empty restaurant. “I’ll tell you but you won’t believe me.”

  “Try me.” She couldn’t keep the edge from her voice.

  He reached for her hand, then pulled his away before he made contact. His voice was heavy and tight when he replied. “I don’t— ” He snapped his jaw shut, and exhaled through his nose. “Twenty years ago I died.”

  Not what she’d expected. In fact, that instant the night went from strange-but-dreamy to downright bizarre. “As in, before you were ten?”

  “No, I was the same age I was now.” If he was joking, it didn’t show on his face. In fact, the only thing she could read in his eyes was… Hope? Pleading? She wasn’t even sure.

  “Okay. You’re a vampire?” Her good mood had evaporated and tension flooded in to take its place. At least they weren’t alone here. This was seriously weirding her out.

  “A cupid, actually. I died before my time. I was brought back to life, and until I find the life I was supposed to have, I have a kind of temporary stay on aging, and I spend that time making people happy.”

  A nervous giggle slipped out. He had to be yanking her chain. This time she had to force the teasing into her question “You’re joking, right? I mean, cupid. Really? Shouldn’t you at least be an elf, given the time of year?”

  He grinned, and leaned back in his chair. “I guess elf would make more sense. I’m completely joking.” And there was no way that was sadness tugging down the corners of his eyes. “Sorry, I’ve got a bad sense of humor sometimes. The truth is, in the parking lot I thought you dropped your glove, and all I meant to do was return it to you. You looked a little sad, I wasn’t looking forward to spending the night alone and I was hoping you might keep me company.”

  Relief flowed through her. That was a simple enough explanation. A teeny voice in the back of her head told her she was missing something. She wasn’t paying attention to the right things. She shoved it aside. He was here for the same reason she was. A little bit of company on a night when most people were spending time with their loved ones. “I’m glad you asked.”

  “Me too.” He scooted back, and disappointment flooded her. Of course the night had to end sometime. Had she ruined the moment with her distrust? No, he seemed to be having as much fun as she was.

  He stood and offered her a hand. “I think they’re waiting on us to close.” Heat seared through her when her fingers brushed his, and he tugged her to her feet.

  “I guess I should get home, and let you do the same.” A nagging ache grew in her chest.

  He was silent as they walked toward the exit, but never dropped her hand. Had he heard her? What was going through his head? They pushed out into the parking lot. Her hatchback and a battered old Impala were the only two cars left in the front lot.

  “You’re lucky you get to work up here.” His footsteps slowed as they neared the cars.

  She matched his pace, not in a hurry to head home to her empty apartment alone. “I guess.”

  He intertwined his fingers with hers and tugged her toward the edge of the parking lot. Heat and desire seared her senses. This wasn’t the same physical response she had to Ashton’s meaningless flirting. She swore something flowed between her and Josh.

  He gestured to the valley below. “You work up here in the foothills. The view at night has always been one of my favorites.”

  She stepped up next to him, and followed his sweeping gesture. They were looking down over the valley, and a million lights twinkled back at them. Every color sparkling like Christmas. How had she never noticed that before? Awe swelled inside. “It’s gorgeous.”

  “It’s one of my favorite sights.” His voice dropped an octave. “But it’s never looked as good as right now.”

  She turned to ask him what he meant. Her question died in her throat when she realized he was staring at her, not the view.

  He brushed a strand of hair from her cheek. “I know, this is only for tonight, and we’ll probably never see each other again, but I really enjoyed getting to know you.”

  Something in his voice stopped her from asking how he could be certain this was it for them. There was no reason they couldn’t exchange numbers. He obviously had some reason to be near her office, and he was more familiar with the valley view than she was, so he was probably local or knew someone who was.

  She swallowed the question as an irrational fear
welled inside her. One that told her if she asked, she might find out exactly how true his statement was, and she wouldn’t like the answer. Instead she said, “I had a lot of fun too.”

  He moved his hand to the back of her neck, and wove his fingers into her hair. Her pulse kicked into overdrive at the gentle contact. When he tilted his head in and kissed her softly, she swore her heart was about to beat its way out of her chest.

  She parted her lips, and his tongue drove in. The kiss went from soft to hungry in instant. She rested her fingers on his chest, fingers digging into muscle, and groaned against his mouth.

  When they finally split apart, her head swam, threatening to float away.

  He traced a thumb over her cheek. “Thank you for the evening, Ella. I’m sorry it has to end.”

  “Why?” She shouldn’t ask, part of her knew that. As soon as the question passed her lips, she wanted to take it back.

  “Because.” He put several inches between them, leaving a longing ache everywhere he’d touched. “I should let you get home.”

  Her chest deflated with hurt and disappointment. It wasn’t an answer, and as much as she wanted one, she wasn’t sure she’d believe whatever he told her. Still, she wasn’t willing to let this connection slip away. She fumbled in her purse for a business card. He already knew where she worked, it wasn’t like she was giving him any home information.

  He held up his hands. “I can’t.”

  Hurt welled inside, and she smothered it with irritation. “I’m not asking you for the rest of your life, or even the next month. Just offering company if you feel like it again.” She held the card toward him. Why was she being so pushy? Still, something inside sparked with hope when he took the card and tucked it into his shirt pocket.

  He closed the distance between them again, and traced a thumb over her bottom lip. “I can promise, I’ll feel like it again. If you don’t believe anything else I said tonight, believe that.” He brushed his lips over hers.

  She hated the finality in his statement, and the deep regret inside telling her she’d never see this man again.

  ****

  Ella stared at the ceiling in her bedroom, thoughts a jumbled mess. Last time she’d looked at the clock, it read eight am.

  She’d replayed the entire evening in her mind over and over since she and Josh parted ways. On her drive home. In between fitful bouts of sleep. She still couldn’t make sense of any of the situation.

  Even worse, the empty ache in her chest missed him terribly. How was that even possible with someone she’d only known a few hours?

  Her work phone chimed and she rolled her eyes. She should be bitter that she was actually being called in on Christmas, but it wasn’t like she had other plans. She grabbed the device and pulled up the new email.

  Her heart leaped at the message in her inbox. A greeting card website return address. She pushed the hope back down. It wasn’t as if it was from him. It would be a standard greeting from a colleague. Something they’d scheduled to send out to everyone in the office first thing in the morning. The logic didn’t stop her from hoping to see Josh’s name on the card when she opened the message.

  The image on the front was pleasant, but generic. A couple of baubles nestled in green garland and surrounded by lights.

  But the note underneath made her heart soar.

  I wasn’t going to email you. We’re not supposed to ever see each other again. But in a week, if you’re still interested in knowing why I sought you out, spend New Year’s Eve with me. If you’ve forgotten me by then, I’ll understand.

  Either way, I’ll always remember last night.

  Josh

  Underneath his name was an address, a restaurant name, and a time.

  She sank back onto her bed, butterflies and sparks dancing through her veins. He wanted to see her again. She wasn’t the only one who’d felt at least a little spark.

  Hitting reply, she swiped out a quick message. Scanning it, she read, deleted, and retyped it several times before finally deciding on a simple,

  New Year’s Eve sounds wonderful. I’ll see you then.

  Ella

  There, that didn’t sound too needy, but still sounded genuine, right? Her smile grew. It had been eons since she felt like this about someone, and she’d only spent a few hours with him.

  Her email chimed seconds later. Had he already replied? Disappointment and confusion pushed aside some of her elation. The message had bounced back as undeliverable.

  He’d used a fake email address to send the card? Josh@cupidinc.luv. It certainly looked fake. That wasn’t even a real domain. Was this a sick joke?

  No. The fluttering hope in her chest refused to believe it. Second later she was seated at her desk, laptop open, and typing in the domain name, www.cupidinc.luv. The screen flickered, and a generic message popped up. It looked like a search engine box, but it said, We’ll help you find what you’re looking for. Just answer our question to get started. What do you wish for more than anything else?

  Josh’s words from the night before echoed in her head. A cupid…until I find the life I was supposed to have…I make people happy.

  Confusion pounded in her skull. This was another part of the joke, right? Logic whispered back this was an awfully long way to go to prove an off-hand comment made in an empty restaurant. But there was no other alternative.

  She typed into the box, I want answers.

  Again, the screen flickered, and when it refreshed, she was looking at a Page Not Found error.

  No, that wasn’t right. She clicked back, but no matter what she tried in her web browser, she couldn’t get the strange website to load again.

  Her head throbbed with more questions than answers. Was the message actually from Josh? Would he even be there next week, or was this a bizarre prank?

  And why did it feel like the answers were right in front of her, and she still couldn’t see them? Last night, she’d just hoped for the chance to see Josh again. Now, even though New Year’s Eve was only a week away, she didn’t know if she could hold out that long for answers to this bizarre riddle.

  ~*~*~The Story Continues in Operation: New Year’s Kiss~*~*~

  Operation: New Year’s Kiss

  Winter Cupid Part 2

  Chapter One

  Josh sank into the battered sofa near the front window of the coffee shop. He flopped his head back, and stared at the ceiling for a moment, before focusing again on the woman across from him. “It’s just for one night, and I’m not asking for anything extravagant. Just be vague, if anyone asks how I’m spending the evening.”

  Amanda took a long sip from her cup of coffee. “Don’t make me say it. You know you don’t want to hear it.”

  He did know. Irritation crept through him, not at her, but at the entire situation. She was talking about the rules. The same guidelines he’d always adhered to without complaint in the past. There were two very good reasons cupids weren’t supposed to hook up with assignments. He waved a hand in irritation. “Yeah, yeah. Emotional connections formed in times of grief are unstable and frequently harmful, and blah, blah, blah.”

  It wasn’t that he disagreed, but right now it was the last thing he wanted to hear. It had only been a week since he met Ella, and they hadn’t done more than share dinner…and an incredible kiss. But he hadn’t been able to get her out of his head since. It wasn’t true love or anything as dramatic, but it might be at some point. Even if it never went further, he knew he’d regret it, if he didn’t at least see how things played out with her.

  Amanda set her cup down on the low table between them, leaned forward, and clasped her hands. “I notice you didn’t mention reason number two.”

  Because he was trying to pretend it wasn’t an issue. The reminder gnawed at him from the inside. It was a bizarre contradiction in the system. A lot of people had a specific fate—were even destined to be with someone—but it didn’t mean things turned out that way. They were still allowed to make their own choices and decisions,
and could end up completely side-stepping that future.

  If he got attached to Ella, he ran the risk of interfering with her fate, assuming she had one.

  He pushed back the doubt broiling in his skull. It didn’t matter, because he wasn’t looking to get attached. “I’m not ignoring any of the reasons.”

  “But you’re going to do this anyway.”

  He raked his fingers through his hair, and focused a narrowed gaze on Amanda. Why did she have to be the voice of logic here? It was true, that was why he was talking to her, but she wasn’t supposed to be so good at it. “It’s not like we’re hooking up,” he said. “And she’s not some grief stricken individual who’s going to cling to the first guy she meets.”

  Amanda’s brows rose.

  He tapped his toes inside his shoes as he waited for a witty retort—or something. Anything. Finally, impatience won out. “I have the night off anyway. I’m just going to spend the free time with a friend. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

  “All right.” Amanda leaned back in her seat, expression blank and giving away nothing. “Then you’re asking me to cover for you because…?”

  Josh opened his mouth to reply, but couldn’t find the words. Damn it. This should be an easy answer. Sometimes he appreciated how well Amanda knew him. She’d been his one friend since he’d arrived, and as two of the only cupids who had been in the job for so long, they frequently found confidences in each other.

  But just this once, he needed her not peering inside his head. “Devin hooked up with an assignment.”

  She smiled, but the corners of her eyes still tugged down. “Devin was one of the lucky few who got to go back to his old life. Are you thinking you want to go back to yours?”

  He didn’t. It had been a miserable existence filled with venom and hatred. “Please. Do this one thing for me, and I’ll owe you anything”

  She sighed, stood, and crossed the few short feet to sit next to him. “With Devin, I knew what his fate was. It sucked to push him in that direction and watch it eat at him before he had the answers himself, but I knew the payoff was worth it. With you, I don’t have that information.”