Unspoken (Shadow Falls: After Dark #3)(69)

“Yeah,” he said. “But it has to be really cold.”

“Okay, beer’s going in the freezer.” She stuck some bottles in the freezer. “And Liam brought a bottle of wine from his mom’s house.”

Della made a face. “I didn’t like the stuff before I was turned.”

“Well, maybe it’s changed.” Natasha darted to the cabinet and pulled down four glasses.

Liam laughed. “I swear, she’s been like this all day.” His gaze turned to Della. “Especially since she heard you were coming. Someone’s filled her tank up with happy juice.”

“Well, yeah,” Natasha said. “In a few days I’ll have my life back, and then…”—she ran over and kissed Liam again—“you and I can start our own lives.” She glanced back at Della. “Nothing’s wrong with happy.”

No, Della thought, except it made her realize she must have a hole in her own happy tank. Or maybe knowing she was responsible for having her dad arrested for murder just sucked the happy out of her.

Chase moved into the kitchen. “I don’t think this cabin has smelled this good in a while.”

“Yeah, but I’m told certain foods might smell good, but taste like shit,” Liam said.

“True,” Chase said.

Della watched Chase. This was his house, but he didn’t seem to feel awkward at all as Liam and Natasha played hosts.

Chase’s gaze met Della’s and he smiled. The pain in his eyes had gone. Obviously, he didn’t have a leak in his happy tank.

She glanced away.

Natasha looked at the food Liam placed on the table. “I’m curious if we will all like and hate the same things. Or if our tastes will vary.”

Della moved in. “I think they vary. Some vampires at the camp love pizza. Me, not so much.” She spotted a chocolate cake on a glass platter. “Once, Kylie was having a meltdown, she was eating the chocolate syrup with a spoon. I poured some into my blood and it went down smooth.”

Natasha pulled out the wine cork, then filled four wineglasses.

“I like French onion soup,” Della said. “It’s one of the few foods I still enjoy.”

Natasha handed Chase a glass of wine. “You first.”

Chase raised it to look at it as if he were a wine connoisseur. His mind seemed to wander, and she could swear she spotted a flash of the earlier pain in his eyes.

“Snickerdoodle cookies,” he said.

“What?” Della asked.

“My mom used to make them. She said they tasted like love. About six months ago, I saw them in a bakery. I ordered one. I thought it would taste bad. It didn’t. Maybe it was nostalgia. I bought a dozen.”

He sipped the wine.

“And? How is it?” Natasha asked Chase, and passed Della a glass.

“Well…” Chase smacked his lips. “It tastes like … sour crap.” He turned to the sink and spit.

They all laughed and all agreed. Wine was a no-go.

The conversation went to Natasha going home. “As soon as Mom’s over the shock, I’ll bring Liam over to meet her.”

“Yeah.” Liam frowned.

Natasha rolled her eyes. “He’s worried my family and friends won’t like him because he’s part African American. Duh, I’m half Chinese.”

“It’s not the same,” Liam said, but he curled his arms around her.

“Not everyone is racist,” Della said.

“But quite a few are,” Liam said. “Still, I’m not going anywhere.” Liam brushed Natasha’s hair to the side and kissed her neck. It was … somehow almost erotic. Just watching it sent tingles running down her spine.

“They are going to love you. Just like I do.” Natasha arched her neck back and they kissed. One of those soft kisses that lasted a little too long to be in public.

Della cut her eyes away, and accidentally met Chase’s gaze. The look he sent her was almost as disturbing at watching Natasha and Liam.

For the next few hours, they sat at Chase’s large French farm table, sampled food, and laughed. At one point, Della realized that while they were four vampires sitting at this table, this was the most normal—human-normal—evening she’d had in a long time. There seemed to be something comforting about sitting around a dinner table with food.

The thought hit her that she probably hadn’t tried hard enough to fit in with her parents. Instead of dreading dinners she should have found food she could stomach and cooked them for her family. She should have passed dinnertime encouraging conversation instead of feeling like a monster and hence coming off as one.

If only …

Her chest felt heavy when she wondered if she would get a second chance to make things smoother?

Della finally looked at her watch. It was after eight. “I’d better get back, or Burnett is gonna have a shit fit.”

“Yeah,” Chase said. “We’d better go. It’s been fun. Thanks.”

“No, thank you,” Natasha said. “For everything—saving our lives, letting us stay here. It’s been just what we needed.”

“Well, you’re welcome to come back anytime. Take the key with you,” he said to Natasha, but he reached over and held a chicken finger to Della’s lips.