The Reinvention of the Rose by Christina C Jones

Author:Christina C Jones [Jones, Christina C]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Warm Hues Creative LLC

“You ready to make these candles?”

Those were the first words out of Tristan’s mouth when he showed up, mostly unannounced, at the door of the candle shop.

“Make candles?”

“Yeah,” he nodded. “You know… shit, I don’t know anything about making candles to do my usual thing – you gotta do it for me.”

I propped my hands on my hips as he stepped inside, closing the door behind him. “You know, setting the wicks, melting the wax, mixing in the fragrance, pouring, test burning.”

“See?” he grinned. “Now I know you know all the steps. Let’s make it happen.”

“Um, hold up!” I called after him as he headed through the darkened shop to get to the workroom. The sunny weather from the last few days was gone, heavy rain and cloudy skies replacing the idyllic warmth and light, creating a gloominess that had definitely affected my mood since it arrived.

Tristan’s busyness hadn’t helped.

Not that I was mad or anything about it, I’d just… missed his face. Between an aggressive schedule at the tattoo parlor, increased security shifts, and making sure he spent ample time with his daughter, there hadn’t been a chance for us to see each other in person.

And when he did show up, he wanted to talk about making goddamn candles?

He pretended he didn’t hear me, getting all the way into the workshop before he stopped, putting a bag I hadn’t really noticed down on the table.

“What’s that?” I asked, distracted now that I’d followed him and gotten closer, and could smell something – other than him – that had me doing deep inhales.

“Late lunch. But… it’s for after.”

“After what?”

He gave me a dry look, crossing his thick arms in a way that made his tee shirt stretch quite nicely across his chest. “After we make these damn candles. So come on. What did you say the first step was?”

“I don’t know,” I shrugged, earning myself an even more scolding look.

“You telling me your ass hasn’t watched every video on YouTube about making these damn candles?”

“Not every…”

“T… cut the shit.”

“You can call me Temp now.”

He smirked, shaking his head as he approached me, his larger frame dwarfing me in a way that would’ve made me wary back when I was still in service to the Garden. No matter how well-trained I was, that disparity in height and weight was a disadvantage to me, something I had to be mindful of in case I needed to defend myself.

That awareness would likely never go away completely, but now?

It was far, far at the back of my mind.

At least with him.

His arm snaked around my waist, drawing me close against his body as he tipped his head down. “Temp…,” he murmured against my lips, “…you’re not gonna distract or charm your way outta doing this.”

“Ugh,” I grunted, pushing away from him as he laughed. “Why are you doing this? I was perfectly fine to spend my rainy day binge-watching other people do this.”

“You’ve spent enough time watching other people do what you want to be doing, I promise,” he teased.

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