Boundary Crossed (Boundary Magic #1)(67)
Oops. I couldn’t sound too enthusiastic about Quinn—or like I was working hard not to sound enthusiastic—or my whole family would think I was in love. “He was on my softball team over the summer,” I told them. “He’s a nice guy. We go hiking once in a while.” Well, we’d gone on one long hike together, anyway. I just wasn’t going to mention the body-disposal portion of the evening.
I jumped in the shower and spent fifteen minutes blow-drying my hair so that Cara, an actual hair stylist, could pin it up in big curlers. Then I made everyone some coffee and sat at the counter, listening to stories about Brie’s sons and Cara’s daughter Dani and Anna’s history professor and a hilariously drunk guy whom Elise had arrested after he walked through a plate-glass window at McDonald’s. I didn’t talk much, but I laughed and asked questions, my heart warmed by the familiar patter of my family.
Their lives had been dramatically unlike mine since long before I found out I was a witch. When I was a soldier, shotgunning energy drinks, patting down Iraqi women for bombs, and saying prayers every time I got in a Humvee, I couldn’t believe I’d ever had a life that revolved around a big, sloppy, loving, exuberant family. And when I was with them, it was hard to believe I’d ever buzz-cut my hair and challenged the guys under my command to pull-up contests. But by the time I came home between tours, I’d realized both roles were an integral part of me—the soldier and the scion.
When I’d come home from the hospital in Germany after my second tour, it was harder to remember how to be in the family, how I was supposed to talk and react and smile in front of the people who loved me. Even now there were days when I felt like I was still adjusting to being back, after three years in Boulder. But without my family, I knew a big part of me would have died.
Well. Bigger part.
When my hair was done, I sat down at the counter and swiped on some mascara and lipstick, figuring that was good enough. But Anna gave me a long-suffering sigh and made me sit back down at the counter. She proceeded to put about thirty different substances on my face, only about half of which I recognized. When she finally put the cap back on the last tube, she blew gently on my face—“to get the extra powder off”—and pronounced me done. I went into the bedroom to put on my dress.
There was a stranger in my room. I jerked, backpedaling a step before I realized I was looking at my own reflection. Anna’s makeup had transformed me from my usual youthful-steely look into something softer and more . . . glamorous. Wide, shining curls framed my face in a curtain that dipped over one eye. I shook my head in amazement, watching the curls bounce. “Not too shabby, guys!” I yelled. Or rather, the stranger in my mirror yelled.
At six-thirty, the limousine arrived for my cousins. I tried to bid them good-bye, since Quinn wasn’t picking me up until seven, but they unanimously decided to wait for my date to show up so they could give him the once-over. “You guys, this isn’t the prom,” I reminded them. “I don’t need a chaperone.”
Elise snorted around one of the apple slices I’d put out for us to munch on. “That’s for sure,” she said, her mouth full. “I’ve seen you shoot, woman.”
My other cousins tittered. “And you’ll see him at the party,” I added. “You can meet him then.” I made a shooing motion, but none of them left their perches around the room. In their long gowns and sculpted hairdos, they looked like the world’s most belligerent bridesmaids.
“Oh, we’ll all be busy with husbands and family stuff then,” Brie argued. “Come on, Lex. We’ll give him the eyeball, make sure he knows you’ve got backup.” She tilted her head to give me a pointed, lazy-eyed stare. I laughed. It was nice to see Brie have a chance to be goofy.
When the doorbell rang at seven, Elise, Brie, Anna, and Cara exchanged wide-eyed looks of glee. They began to get up, but I jumped to my feet first. Mostly because I hadn’t put on my shoes yet. Shoes still kind of hurt just then. “Stay!” I ordered them. In unison, all four of them raised their right arms and saluted, giggling hysterically. I rolled my eyes as I padded briskly down the hall, my skirt swishing at my calves. The dogs were barking madly, but that happened so frequently I barely registered it anymore. I pulled the door halfway open and saw Quinn.
He wore a black tuxedo with a long black tie that was on the thin side. His hands were in his pants pockets, and for a breathless moment I just . . . looked at him. He quirked a private smile at me, giving me a once-over. My dress was made of deep emerald satin, with a simple high-cut halter neckline that showed off the lean muscles in my arms and shoulders but covered most of the scars on my back, including the new ones. The full skirt flared out from a fitted waist, swirling as I walked. Anna, who’d picked it out, had decided the simple gown needed a little something extra, so she’d added a wide metal belt of braided silver links that sat at my waist. We stood there gazing at each other for a long moment, and I felt heat creep up my chest, flushing my cheeks under the makeup.
Then I heard my cousins giggling behind me and remembered myself. “Mr. Bond, I presume?” I said, cocking an eyebrow.
Quinn gave me a small smile. “Does that make you Miss Moneypenny?”
I shrugged a bare shoulder. “I’ve been called worse.”
The giggling intensified, and Quinn raised his brow inquisitively. “My cousins,” I explained. “They’d like to meet you.”