Kim Karr - Dazed

“The receipt you left on the kitchen counter next to your wallet. Busted!” she smirks.

I have to laugh. River has got to be one of the funniest, most down-to-earth guys I know and he and Dahlia couldn’t be more perfect for each other. They both look at me.

“What?” I ask. “I can’t find the story funny?”

“Well, at least let me explain before you laugh at me?” he jokes.

“Oh, I think we got this one,” Dahlia responds.

I finish with my knees and Dahlia takes the dirty towel and wets another, handing it to me. I stand up at the sink and spread the cool white liquid between my palms and scrub them. “I needed a good laugh after the day I’ve had.”

“Glad to be of assistance,” River chuckles.

Dahlia pulls River to her and clasps his cheeks. “I think it’s sexy that you tried to be an auto mechanic.”

He buries his head in the crook of her neck and with the water running I can’t hear what he whispers, but I can only imagine.

Now I clear my throat. “Excuse me. I’m right here. Remember, I’m the one who fell.”

River leans over and kisses my cheek. “I’m sorry you slipped. We should have done a better job cleaning up. You sure you’re okay?”

“I’m fine. My ego is bruised more than anything else.”

He pats my shoulder. “Now, finish getting cleaned up and I’ll go grab the oil spill culprit. He’s dying to meet you.”

Turning off the water, I twist to set the towel down on the counter. “Really? Why?”

“I’ll let him explain.”

“How old is your cousin? Sixteen?” I ask.

The sizzling sound of liquid meeting flame erupts behind us and all of our heads snap toward it. The spaghetti sauce is boiling over again.

“Shit!” Dahlia calls and runs over to the stove. The mitt is not there so she lifts the lid with her bare hand and immediately drops it. “Shit!” she calls again waving her hand in the air.

River grabs one of the towels on the counter near the sink and is by her side in a moment. He takes the lid off and lowers the gas, then turns to Dahlia. “Let me see that,” he says, taking her hand in his.

I tune out the rest of their conversation because in the midst of all the chaos, a shadow rises from the staircase. A long, lean body appears out of nowhere and stormy gray eyes sweep over me. My mouth falls open at the same time that my pulse begins to race. There stands the cupcake thief, right in the middle of River and Dahlia’s family room.

Now here’s the question—when Alice falls down the rabbit hole, does she tumble or plummet? I couldn’t remember. Or should I really be asking if, when she falls through the looking glass, does she stumble or crash?

The corners of the cupcake thief’s mouth lift up when he looks in my direction and a low chuckle leaves his throat. “Alice?”

I can feel heat rising up my body and would venture to guess that my skin color almost matches my dress. At the same moment that the flush is creeping up my throat, his pure steady gaze somehow sets me at ease.

In the next moment, his eyes dart to the stove. “Fuck, I thought I turned the gas down.”

His light accent sends a shiver down my spine as I follow his movements. He dashes over to the stove and settles the flame like he knows his way around the kitchen. Then I finally break out of my trance as I see River holding an ice cube to Dahlia’s hand.

I blast the cold water. “Come over here, Dahlia.”

“I’m fine,” she says.

River’s cousin takes her hand and looks it over. “What the hell did you do? It’s blistering. You need to soak it in cool water.”

He knocks River’s shoulder. “Don’t you know anything about burns?”

River looks at him quizzically.

“You never put ice on a burn. Cool water only.”

“Dahlia, come over here now,” I order as I nonchalantly adjust the water temperature from cold to cool.

River shakes his head at his cousin. “Where the hell did you learn the things you know—chef, maintenance man, now paramedic?”

Dahlia laughs and winces as she crosses the kitchen to the sink. “Too bad auto mechanic didn’t fit in the repertoire.”

“Hey, you haven’t let me explain how your husband duped me into thinking he knew what he was doing,” the beautiful stranger says.

River rubs his hand on the back of his head. “Yeah, about that. Come to think of it, it was Xander who my dad taught to change the oil in his old corvette. I’m pretty sure I just watched.”

Chuckles from the guys fill the room as I prop Dahlia’s hand under the flowing water. I suddenly become keenly aware of two bodies shadowing us—River stands behind Dahlia and his cousin next to me. My heart starts beating so fast, I swear it’s pounding in my ears. River takes Dahlia’s hand and I shake the water from mine. As I twist to grab a towel, I can’t help but notice how close the cupcake thief is to me. He’s leaning back against the cabinets with his long, lean body stretched before me. His jeans are slung so low around his narrow hips that I wonder how they manage to stay up with no belt.

“Hi,” he says, handing me the towel. “I’m River’s sixteen-year-old cousin.” A slight chuckle echoes from his throat as his Johnny Depp jawline drops. But even with his head down, his eyes stay pinned to mine.

“You’re River’s cousin?” I dumbly ask.

He nods his head. “I’m Jagger. River and Dahlia are letting me crash here.”

“Jagger,” I echo back. Nothing else comes out.

Dahlia turns the water off and I hand the towel to her. River moves towards his cousin. “Jagger, this is Dahlia’s best friend, Aerie, Aerie Daniels, and she’s the girl who’s going to have your ass served on a platter for the mess you made.”

His brows furrow as his eyes cut to his cousin.

“She fell in the Exxon oil spill you left in my driveway,” River coyly says.

Jagger’s head rises and dimples unlike any I’ve ever seen appear on his cheeks.

“Right, I left it there. Just remember we both know I might have been the wayward sailor steering the Exxon Valdez, but you were Captain Hazelwood commanding the vessel.”

With a loud chuckle River says, “Again man, the things you know.” Then he looks at Dahlia. “Come on, baby, let’s get this wrapped up.”

They both leave the room and Dahlia calls over her shoulder, “Jagger, can you stir the sauce one more time so it doesn’t burn?”

“I got it, Dahlia. Don’t worry,” he responds.

His gaze swivels back to me and I suddenly become aware of how disheveled I am. I pat my hair, pull my jacket back on, and straighten the hem of my dress.

“Are you sure you’re all right? I’m sorry about the mess in the driveway,” he asks.

“Yes, really I’m fine. Everyone just needs to stop asking me that. I slipped. No big deal.”

“Okay, Alice, just checking.”

“You know my name is Aerie, not Alice?”

“I know,” he says, amused, as he opens a drawer and pulls another pot holder out before heading back over to the stove.

Wet towels cover the counter and I gather them all in a pile.

“Do you think we should throw those in the washer?” he asks as if reading my mind.

“Ummm . . . yeah,” I answer.

He taps the spoon on the pot and sets it down before putting the cover back on. “Everything okay?”

“Ummm . . . ,” I say again. “I don’t go downstairs.”

He cocks an eyebrow. “May I ask why? Is there something I should know since I’m sleeping down there? Demons, goblins, or maybe dead bodies?”

Just then Dahlia enters the room with her hand wrapped in gauze. She giggles. “She’s afraid of the staircase. It freaks her out.”

“I’m not afraid of it,” I counter. “I just don’t get why someone would cut a hole in the middle of the room and call it a staircase.”

“It’s more like a batcave, now that you mention it,” Jagger jokes.

“It’s design aesthetics,” River says, entering the room on Dahlia’s heels.

Jagger’s mouth quirks. “That’s up for debate, but I’ll let you have that one. It does fit perfectly with the architecture of the house.”

I feel a little at a loss. I know nothing about this cousin, but he seems to have become close to them. I know I’ve been busy with work, but I begin to wonder if I’m letting work get too much in the way of my friendships.

Jagger strides toward me with an ease only a man full of confidence could possibly carry. He takes the pile of towels under one arm. And with his smile wide again, he extends his other hand. “Come on, I’ll show you the trick. It’s in the descent.”

Without thinking, I take his hand and a shiver runs straight through me. He drops my hand as he hits the staircase and goes first. Once he’s about five stairs down, he turns, as I stand frozen at the top, my bare feet at his waist.

“You like red?”

I’m confused.

“Red dress, red nail polish. Sometimes a red face.”

He’s teasing.

“I guess I do. But my face doesn’t turn red.”

“Okay, if you say so. Now give me your hand,” he says, as if he thinks I’ll just do as he says. And I do. I take a deep breath and stand on my toes. I close my eyes, willing away my fear of heights.

“Hey, look at me.”

Again, his tone is commanding and again I don’t hesitate to do what he says, which is so not like me. But there’s something in the way his voice dips low that urges me to follow.

“Now keep your back straight and step down. Don’t lean forward. That’s the trick.”

I do as he says and before I know it, my hand drops from his grip and I’m clutching the railing. I did it, and without falling.