Cupid’s Kiss Chapter 1
“Emma, I’m here,” I called out. My deep voice reverberated through the house, as I shut the door behind me. I cast out the chill of Colorado in February, though it didn’t penetrate through my suit. The door to the purple house, tucked away in row of similar historic homes in downtown Denver, was left unlocked for me.
“I’m just finishing up, Calan. I’ll be right down,” Emma’s voice floated down the stairs.
The smell of lemon cleaner, potpourri, and antiques filled my senses, and I found myself deeply inhaling. The final rays of daylight streamed in through the sheer curtains into the living room, casting the floral furniture in a golden hue. Emma and I were staying with our friends, Krystan and Travis, but we had already found refuge here so many times that the place had come to feel like home.
My first home outside the temple where I was raised.
A knock at the front door broke me from my reverie. I opened the door in time to see a van speed off. A beautiful arrangement of flowers was on the doorstep. At first glance, they were velvety blood-red roses, but toward the center of each flower, the petals morphed into metallic gold. The brilliant centers glinted under the porch light. Picking the arrangement up, I was drawn by the intoxicating fragrance. Inhaling deeply, I filled my nose with bright, elegant floral scents from the different flowers, but there was something under it all, something dark and sensual. Everything about that fragrance drew me in like a deep, dark pool, stirring me in places I wasn’t even aware I possessed.
When I finally broke away, I spotted a tag. Flipping it over, my blood heated as I read the note.
Engaged ain’t married…
Yours if you want me to be.
The clip-clop of Emma’s heels down the stairs drew my attention. Her eyes were made up, smoky and dark, her bright red dress was tight, a second skin to every inch of her slim, toned body. Thin straps were each connected to the dress by a small triangle of delicate lace. Her dark blonde hair fell down her back in a shiny wave. The smile she cast me was as dark and sensual as her makeup, as the scent of the flowers I’d just inhaled.
But all I could think about was Jo.
My fingers tightened around the vase.