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Cupid In Blue
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Back Cover Copy
In the game of love, what if Cupid’s the loser?
Aaron Bernhart—the new Cupid—finds previous experience in love is a prerequisite for the job. He’s all ready with a golden bow and a quiver of magical red arrows. Sadly, what he’s lacking is a girlfriend. On his first day at work he meets Catherine, and literally tumbles head over wings…from the sky, that is.
Catherine is a skeptic regarding all things romance, but finds herself turned on by Cupid’s wings. The only thing holding her back from a happily ever after is herself.
Can Aaron convince the lovely loner to take a chance on romance with him, or will he be the only single Cupid in the history of the world?
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“But I don’t want to accept it! I want it to be gone.” When Landon didn’t offer a comment, Aaron slammed his fist down on the armrest of his chair. “Just because you’re a happily married man doesn’t mean the rest of us will be as lucky.” Aaron didn’t begrudge his brother the love of a lifetime. He only wished it had happened to him. He felt useless holed up in this house all the time, a shadow of who he was only two months prior because of the wings. Even though he had finally learned how to fold them beneath his skin, he wasn’t always sure that they’d stay there while he was out in public.
“Accept what you’ve been given, because miracles are a risky business at best. I’d say you’re stuck.” Landon rose to his feet in one smooth motion. “I’ll talk to you before we leave.”
“Sure, don’t try to help me or anything.” Aaron frowned when his brother ignored his sarcastic comment and vanished through the front door. “Me, as Cupid.” He leaned his head against the buttery soft leather, closed his eyes and sighed. No life, no girlfriend, no way out. “No problem.”
Cupid In Blue
Copyright © 2009, Sandra Sookoo
Edited by Stephanie Szymanski
Book design by Brian Hunter
Cover Art by Renee Rocco
First Lyrical Press, Inc. electronic publication: February, 2010
Lyrical Press, Incorporated
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Staten Island, New York 10312
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PUBLISHER'S NOTE:
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental.
The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party Web sites or their content.
Published in the United States of America by Lyrical Press, Incorporated
Table of Contents
Back Cover Copy
Highlight
Copyright
Dedication
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
About Sandra Sookoo
More From Lyrical Press
Dedication
To the talented staff at Lyrical Press who worked on this project and believed enough to take a chance on the inhabitants of Crystals Falls. Thanks for coming along for the ride.
Chapter 1
“Damn it!”
Aaron Bernhart picked himself off the wet, muddy ground. With a furious glance at a passing flock of geese, he rubbed his shoulder then readjusted his wings. Six weeks ago, the pair of glorious white-feathered extensions had sprouted from his back, but he still hadn’t gotten used to how the appendages operated. It didn’t help matters when the local fowl plowed right through his flight path. When that happened, he usually plummeted to the earth with a tumble of outrage and a bruised tailbone.
“Well done, brother. Another couple of weeks and you’ll finally have the hang of it.” Landon, Aaron’s older sibling, strode around a holly thicket and into view.
“I’d like to see you live with this curse.” Aaron ineffectually brushed at a patch of mud on the left knee of his jeans. “It’s not as easy as you’d think.” He stared at his brother. They could have been twins and had played that card while growing up, but as they aged, their differences had grown more pronounced. Where Landon’s brown hair sported waves, Aaron’s own golden locks curled. Both were tall at six feet, and while Aaron considered himself laid-back, his brother was definitely more of a by-the-book type.
“I’m sure it isn’t.” Landon clapped Aaron on the shoulder. “It’s your destiny. You’ll figure it out.”
“Destiny, huh?” Aaron snorted. “You should know all about that.” With a grimace, he folded his wings behind him, wincing at the tenderness in his muscles.
“Why don’t you hide the wings under your skin like the rest of the winged people of the world? If you have difficulty doing so, I’m sure there are classes you can take at the Institute.”
“Because it’s too painful right now, and uncomfortable to lie on my back, but I do tuck them in when I absolutely must.” Aaron frowned. “Surely this is normal?” When Landon only lifted a dark brown eyebrow in response, he sighed. “And you’re sure this is really my destiny?” He hoped it was merely a fluke of the universe and that the wings would go away on their own.
“You know magic manifests itself in different ways for different people. I apparently can conjure rare objects from distant galaxies. You got wings, for whatever reason. Maybe you can perform other feats of wonder. Who knows?” Landon’s lips twitched in apparent amusement. “I’m almost sorry Jayne and I will be leaving for Glacier Falls in a few days. I’d love to see how this thing plays out.”
“I don’t need your pity.” Aaron shot Landon an irritated glance. “At least the task of being Santa Claus’s prodigy is yours. I don’t think I could handle the notoriety.” He flexed his right wrist and groaned. “That’s gonna be a bruise.”
“I’ve been asking around at the Institute. The appearance of your wings has been the subject of discussion in academic circles.”
“Is that right?” Aaron led the way back inside the rambling gray farmhouse, glad for the opportunity to slump into a sleek, brown leather recliner. “And what do the learned professors in the hallowed halls of the Institute of Magical Instruction attribute the phenomenon to?” In spite of his flippant, sarcastic tone, he desperately wanted answers. If the practitioners of magic at the Institute couldn’t figure out his puzzle, no one could. He didn’t want to go through the rest of his life without knowing why he had been “chosen.”
Landon cleared his throat. “They all believe you’ve been selected to be the next Cupid.”
“What?” Aaron’s mouth dropped open as he stared at his sibling in astonishment. “You can’t be serious! I don’t even have a handle on my own romantic attachments, especially now that I’ve sprouted wings.” He struggled to remove himself from the recliner, but the extra effort caused his back to ache. With a sigh, he sank back against the soft leather. “How is that possible, and will that be my job for the rest of my life?”
“How is anything possible in the world of magic?” Landon sat easily on the espresso leather sofa opposite Aaron’s chair. “Apparently the last Cupid never came back from a vacation to the Florida Keys. He took early reti
rement and now the position’s open.”
“But why me?” Aaron rolled his shoulders and resisted the urge to scratch the patch of skin between his wings with the remote control. “Why did the powers-that-be think that I’d be pleased with this arrangement?”
“In case you haven’t noticed, they don’t always ask our permission before they mess around in our lives.” Landon shot him a grin. “I’ll be Santa Claus within the next decade. It’s only fitting for you to step up to play Cupid for a while. You know, keep the magic in the family.”
“What if I don’t want to?” Aaron cringed at the whine that crept into his voice. It made him sound like he was back in third grade on the playground, where Landon used to taunt him to jump off the swings. “Ever since these feathered abominations appeared, I haven’t gone anywhere—not even to the diner, and that’s bad because I’m a terrible cook. I have to fend for myself.” He lowered his voice to a whisper, even though there was no one around to overhear. “Not to mention the other huge problem. I haven’t dated since we came to Crystal Falls. It’s been at least three months. Things are pretty bad on that front, if you know what I mean.”
“There is more to life than sex.” Landon’s eyes held no sympathy. “It’s best not to complain about your fate and accept it. Once you do that, you’ll be fine, and most likely, your special woman will be dumped into your lap.”
“But I don’t want to accept it! I want it to be gone.” When Landon didn’t offer a comment, Aaron slammed his fist down on the armrest of his chair. “Just because you’re a happily married man doesn’t mean the rest of us will be as lucky.” Aaron didn’t begrudge his brother the love of a lifetime. He only wished it had happened to him. He felt useless holed up in this house all the time, a shadow of who he was only two months prior because of the wings. Even though he had finally learned how to fold them beneath his skin, he wasn’t always sure that they’d stay there while he was out in public.
“Like I said, accept what you’ve been given, because miracles are a risky business at best. I’d say you’re stuck.” Landon rose to his feet in one smooth motion. “I need to help Jayne with her packing. I’ll talk to you before we leave.”
“Sure, don’t try to help me or anything.” Aaron frowned when his brother ignored his sarcastic comment and vanished through the front door. “Me, as Cupid.” He leaned his head against the buttery soft leather, closed his eyes and sighed. No life, no girlfriend, no way out. “No problem.”
* * * *
Catherine Alicot frowned as the sky spit a fine drizzle at her. It wasn’t enough moisture to dampen her clothes or hair, but was enough to annoy her. She hated to be wet and it was Jenika’s fault she was here. Stupid hick town. She needed to meet her friend at some kitschy bakery. For what? To have Jenika sign the quitclaim deed on their apartment in New York. Sure, she could have mailed the document. She did—twice, in fact. She had received no response to either registered letter. It was time to take matters into her own hands.
Rolling her eyes at the giant cookie-shaped sign that read “Just Cookies,” Catherine gripped the cold metal handle, yanked the door open and entered. The fine tinkle of the jingle bells attached to the glass door drowned the word out as it swung closed behind her.
She spotted her former roommate behind a case containing pastries. “Jenika, we need to talk.” Catherine’s long legs ate up the length of the dining area with quick strides as she wove her way through the maze of two-seater round tables. Invisible clouds of vanilla and cherry enveloped her and made her mouth water. She had to resist the temptation. Empty calories were not a good thing.
“I’ve told you a hundred times to call me Jinx. I hate the name Jenika.”
“Whatever.” Catherine cocked an eyebrow at her ex-roommate. “Listen, just sign this deed then I can catch the next flight back to New York and be home by dinner.” She glanced around the bakery and her lips curled with contempt. From the strands of red, sparkly heart tinsel strung around the ceiling to the cutout paper Cupids that adorned the windows, Just Cookies certainly appeared to usher in the holiday of love with high style. “I want to sell the apartment as soon as possible. I’ve got my eye on another piece of property, but I need to dump this one first.” She resisted the urge to flick a pink glittery cherub that rested on the front counter. Love was overrated.
“Sorry, Catherine. I’ve been swamped here at the bakery, especially now. It seems everyone in town wants to order heart-shaped cookies.”
“Mmm-hmm.” She studied her friend. Jenika was petite, barely a couple inches taller than five feet, and curvy in all the right places. Wild, curly auburn hair ran riot about her shoulders, and Catherine had to admit the woman’s best feature, by far, was her vivid green eyes. “I wouldn’t eat too many of those cookies if I were you.” Catherine frowned. “You’re not exactly on the slim side.”
“Gee, thanks. Bitch much? And you wonder why I took this job and moved from New York to Indiana.” Jenika dropped the half-eaten sugar cookie back onto a pink doily. “You’re gonna have to wait until I’m off the clock here. I want to make sure to read your paper before I sign it. You haven’t been entirely truthful with me in the past.”
A tiny thread of guilt twisted Catherine’s gut but she mentally brushed it aside. All those times when she’d coerced Jinx into going places, getting the tattoo or trying questionable foods didn’t have any bearing on the present situation. “It wasn’t personal, just business. The deed will just transfer your interest in the real estate to me so that I don’t have to track you down when the apartment sells.”
“At some point in your life, you’ll have to stop categorizing people as investments and business plans. You’re too blunt for your own good. I get tired of it sometimes—okay, a lot of times.”
Catherine most certainly was not going to stand around while her former roommate lectured her on the niceties of life. “Since I’ll be here for a couple of days, can I stay with you?”
“Not unless you brought a sleeping bag.” Jenika laughed. “I don’t have a place yet. I’m staying at Mrs. Wiggins’s boarding house on Oak Street. I think she’s got one more room for rent.”
“Things just get better and better.” Catherine’s cheeks warmed with the slow burn of irritation. “I’ll see you later.”
She slammed the bakery door on her way out. Why couldn’t Jenika just sign the stupid paper? Catherine stormed down the sidewalk, the heels of her black stiletto boots echoing sharply on the concrete. The drizzle had stopped, but the change in weather didn’t lift her mood. She’d gone two blocks before she skidded to a wobbly halt over a slab of slick pavement. Where the hell was the boarding house? The only thing she saw was an orderly row of older brick residential houses.
Catherine sighed. Obviously, she’d taken a wrong turn. She wasn’t in the heart of so-called downtown, that much was true. She turned a slow circle then frowned. There was no one out, most of the homes were silent, and some still sported unlit Christmas lights that swayed gently in the breeze. She shivered and berated herself for not dressing more appropriately for the February chill. The black skinny jeans and thin, cream-colored wool sweater weren’t enough to keep her warm.
The sun came out from behind a cloudbank, and Catherine sucked in her breath as a large winged shadow swooped across the grass then vanished behind a house. That was one huge bird! Curiosity had always been the weakness that tripped her up in life, and this moment proved to be no different. She figured she was already lost, so a side trip to investigate the bird with a pituitary problem wouldn’t make a difference. With determined strides, Catherine picked her way up the graveled driveway, careful not to scuff her boots.
The driveway ended in a wooden five-foot gate. Catherine tried the lock, which gave way under her fingers. She pushed the gate open and moved further into the backyard. Silhouetted against the weak sun was a man—with wings. The light gilded his golden curls, yet her eyes lingered on the pair of white, feathery wings that protruded from his back.
r /> “I don’t believe it.” Catherine advanced another few steps onto the cement patio and made sure to avoid the patches of snow that dotted the small space. She looked past the wings to focus on the man himself. Grass-stained jeans hugged muscular thighs and a tight rear end while a red turtleneck hid his torso as he flapped about the yard. “Oh wow.” Catherine didn’t know if the words slipped out in response to his body or his wings. Even at this distance, she could see the definition of his stomach muscles as they strained under the fabric. Her heartbeat increased at the sight of him. She had an insane desire to run her fingers over those abs to see if they were as hard as they looked.
She shaded her eyes with a hand against the glare. “Hey, are you really flying or are you hooked up to some sort of wire?” She didn’t see any contraption to keep him suspended but that didn’t mean anything. Hollywood special effects teams had some awesome toys these days.
The angel or bird-man—or whatever he was—turned a startled gaze on her, gave a couple of ineffectual flaps of his wings and then fell to the ground with a heavy thump. “Damn!” He glared at her, his deep brown eyes ablaze with anger. “You broke my concentration.”
“It didn’t appear to me you had a good grasp on flying to begin with.” Catherine shrugged as he picked himself off the ground. “What’s with the Halloween costume?” She’d seen many things in her life—the world after dark in downtown Manhattan would blow anyone’s mind—but she had never seen a man with wings. “You do realize that’s months away, right?”
“Listen, lady, it’s not a costume.”
“Then you’re just a guy on the wrong side of genetics?” Her lips curved upward in a smile when the tips of his ears turned pink. “I don’t judge. I just came over to see what the commotion was.” A new thought occurred to her. “I need to find Mrs. Wiggins’s boarding house. Can you help me with that?” She stuck out a hand and pasted on what she liked to call her marketing smile. “I’m Catherine Alicot, by the way.”