The only drawback of using the program, was that anyone that wasn’t a blood relation or bonded to the original Vassago family in some way, couldn’t pass through the barrier.
When Keifer had asked me to figure out how to reconfigure it the day he found out he could possibly be mated to Blythe, I’d been hard pressed to figure out how to open it to allow her through.
I’d been just about to pull it all the way down when I’d felt Keifer pass through the ward.
I’d held my breath, terrified that Blythe would die, but minutes later, Keifer had landed on the back lawn with Declan, his dragon, and Blythe, none the worse for wear.
I’d not told him that I hadn’t gotten the ward down.
I’d decided that bitch fit hadn’t been worth the hassle of worrying him.
But I’d spent day and night since then honing my skills with the design of the ward, and working with Perdita to get the ward under my complete control.
And we’d accomplished it, so there was no reason to worry Keifer…right?
“That’s pretty nifty, actually,” Brooklyn broke into my thoughts. “So you like computers?”
I shrugged. “I guess so. My brother owns Vassago motors; you know that, right?”
She nodded, so I continued.
“I never really wanted to be a part of the hands on business end. Although I know my way around a car just like Keifer does, I don’t enjoy it in the least. It’s more of a chore than a passion like it is for him,” I told her, sitting down at the bar across from where she was currently flipping pancakes. “So I started making myself useful to him elsewhere, and I found that I was much more suited for the computer end rather than the transmission end.”
She smiled. “You would laugh if you saw me trying to change my oil the first time,” she snickered, looking up.
The light in her eyes had me wanting to bring those lips to mine, but I refrained from moving, happy to see her happy.
“Why didn’t you just take it to an oil lube place?” I asked.
She shrugged.
“Money, mostly. It was $40 to get my oil changed by them, and $20 to buy the bottles and do it myself,” she explained.
I snorted.
“How’d that work?” I asked.
“I wasn’t really prepared. I watched a YouTube video on how to change my car’s oil in the library at school,” she explained, going behind her to reach above the counter for a couple of plates before returning and piling on pancakes. “So I go out there, armed with a couple old milk jugs, a funnel and a monkey wrench.”
A smile lit my face.
“Ohhh,” I laughed softly to myself.
She nodded back. “Yeah, that’s about how it went for me. I put the funnel in the milk jug, unscrewed that little bolt at the bottom of the oil pan, and was promptly drenched with oil.”
I could imagine.
“So, from then on, I flirted with the boys at school to get them to do it for me. Worked out splendidly and haven’t changed my own oil since,” she confirmed.
Irrational irritation started to pour through me, and I growled.
“I’ll do it for you from now on,” I informed her.
Her brows rose. “Oh?”
She slid the pancakes in front of me, handed me a fork and the syrup, and then turned the burners off.
She rounded the island with her own plate and took up the position beside me.
We ate in silence, neither one of us commenting on the fact that I’d practically taken her off the market with that one comment.
Long minutes later, with my belly full, I turned to watch her shovel the last of her two pancakes into her mouth.
“I have to get a little bit of work done today…will you be alright if I leave you alone for a few hours?” I asked.
She nodded, standing up while still chewing her last piece, then placed her plate gently into the sink.
“I’ll be fine,” she said once she’d chewed and swallowed. “But I wanted to call Blythe today. And one of these days you need to take me to get some clothes like you promised. I realize that you’re busy, but I can’t live in your clothes forever.”
Brooklyn had tried to call Blythe yesterday, but Keifer had answered for her saying that Blythe was too busy puking to come to the phone and to try again tomorrow.
I doubted that he’d even given Blythe the message that Brooklyn was awake.
He was a nice guy like that.
“That’s fine. You can use the house phone,” I indicated the old rotary phone on the wall. “Or you can come to my office and use my cell phone. Whichever one you want to do.”
She nodded, biting her lip.
“Do you mind if I…explore?” she asked hesitantly.
I shrugged. “Fine with me. But, it’s a big place. It’ll take you days to see everything.”