Craved

Renee:

Outside a small boutique a few streets from the jeweler, Renee slid out of the bus. Damon and Travis drove off, the minibus disappearing around a corner.

In town, she'd buy an outfit to go with the necklace and show up Damon and Travis. Yesterday, the jeweler sent her a text message regarding the necklace being completed ahead of schedule and ready anytime. She couldn't wait. Even though this wasn't her first archeological dig, this was her first souvenir. Oh, and she needed to find something to bring back for her mom. After parading through several shops, she decided on a Turkish wooden flute and bracelets.

Next, she entered a dress shop. Racks crammed the clothing store while the music playing in the background made her think of belly dancers and harems. She loved jeans and shorts, but sometimes she liked to wear a skirt or dress. She'd felt so underdressed at Sofia's. Now, with them having pizza, she'd be overdressed.

Oh well. It would be worth it to watch Damon drool. Despite Melanie leaving, and Carla spreading a rumor that the woman had snagged Ken before she and Damon split, part of Renee was relieved. Especially with her mounting attraction to him and the daily reports bringing her in and out of his tent, turning her legs to jelly. What the hell was the matter with her? She had Damon fever and it was getting harder and harder not to crave his company.

She flipped through the clothes, the metal hangers scraping lightly on the bar. Maybe she'd impress him. Throw Damon off his game for once. Let him be the one in the ragged, dirty shorts, while she would be transformed. Her phone buzzed, and she scrambled to dig it out of her purse. Mom. Renee clicked off her text message. So not what she needed right now. She'd deal with her mom's drama later. She tossed the phone into her purse and went to another rack.

A low-cut golden blouse with swirls of light and dark chocolate caught her attention. Normally she didn't wear anything this revealing, but how could she shock anyone if she didn't go out of her comfort zone herself?

She put the blouse over her arm and added a white shirt with the right amount of lace along the collar and sleeves. Next, she added a dark velvet chocolate mini skirt to her pile. She grabbed an empty fitting room and squeezed inside. The blanket hung over a wire and barely covered the space. Quickly, she changed into the white top and mini skirt first. Not bad. But not the wow look she wanted. Then she tried the yellow blouse. The colors accented her now tan skin and made her dark curly hair look chestnut. Even her eyes looked brighter. Should I wear this daring outfit for dinner tonight? She did a spin, and then a giggle escaped her. Yup.

She redressed and glanced at the time. Twenty minutes. Not bad. By the time I get the necklace, it'll be thirty or forty minutes tops, and those guys thought two hours wouldn't be enough time for me.

After paying for the clothes, she hiked toward the jewelry shop. Her reflection in the store mirrors made her pause. I have time for a cut. Add to her shock and awe moment to have dust and dirt out of her hair. She changed direction and crossed the street at the light. Hopefully, they would have an opening.

The stylist greeted her and told her she could fit her in.

"Mind if I freshen up in your bathroom while I wait?"

In the salon's bathroom, Renee washed her face, neck, arms, and legs using the sink and paper towels. Her phone rang, and she dropped a wad of paper towels into the toilet by accident. Damn it! Distracted, she clicked answer on her phone without looking at the caller. "Yes?"

"Renee?" her mom said. "What's wrong?"

"No, it's nothing."

"Did you get my message about Tom? He'd really like us to have a family dinner." Once a month, on a Sunday, her mom made the same request which Renee made excuses to miss except a few times a year. Drat, she'd forgot to tell her mom she'd be in Turkey. Might have stopped the invite.

Making a face, Renee fished out the towels. "Some other time, but I'm on assignment in a dig... in Turkey actually, and it's beautiful here."

"Oh?" A slight pause. "I'd like to talk with you. There's something you need to know, but I've never told you before."

Ominous. Was her mom sick? Renee's heart fisted. "Are you okay? It's not a health thing, is it?"

Her mom's laughter echoed through the phone as Renee stuffed the last of the soaking paper towels into the trash. Well, at least this way, the toilet wouldn't overflow.

"No, no, nothing like that. Tom and I are fine, and we had a checkup last year."

"Oh, well, when I get back, I'll be busy preparing for my history students. Right now is not a good idea for me. After I get settled would be better."

Her mother paused, and Renee fought to retract what she'd said, but then the image of Tom's frown and her mother weeping as he kicked Renee out flashed in her mind. "Mom, I gotta go."

"Promise me you'll call me. I'll worry about you being so far away."

Yet, she did nothing when Renee was eighteen and homeless. "Right." She said goodbye and finished cleaning up. Later, she'd call her mom back.

Renee waited in the lobby until the hairdresser called her name. Besides, if her mother had something urgent, she would have told Renee immediately. Wouldn't she? Renee forced aside her doubts and sent her mom a text. Her mom replied; it could wait. Obviously, her mom would tell her in person could be gossip.

Now, enjoy yourself. Getting a shampoo with warm water rather than the cool river or her canteen was heaven. The woman washed, cut, and styled her hair.

After her haircut, Renee borrowed the restroom again, this time to change into her outfit. Oh, shoes! Her hiking boots didn't work with a miniskirt. She kept her new clothes on and hustled to the receptionist to ask for the location of the nearest shoe store. After purchasing heels to match the skirt, Renee put them on and shoved all of her clothes and boots into one of the shopping bags. Less than thirty minutes to get her necklace and meet Travis and Damon for pizza. She couldn't wait to bask in their shocked looks.

Outside, several women wearing heels chatted and held steaming cups of coffee and a hot chocolate. The scents of cocoa and coffee wafted on the breeze. Renee relaxed, feeling as if she fit in with this posh crowd as opposed to when she dressed in shorts and muddy hiking boots.

The door chimed as she entered the jeweler's shop. He waited on a customer, so she forced her excitement down and glanced at the merchandise. She wasn't interested in anything, though, except her necklace. Finally, after two paces around the store, the woman hogging the owner left.

"Hi," Renee said. "Remember me? I left a smoky quartz here a couple of weeks ago to forge a necklace with?"

"Good to see you. Let me get it out of the safe."

Safe? It wasn't worth too much, was it? "Did the necklace take more material or work than you thought?" she asked as he shuffled to the back room and out of sight. The jewelry was delicate, and he spent more time than he told her and would cost more. She doubted he'd charge her more, but she would pay him extra for his skill.

"No, no." He returned holding a necklace box. "Once I chiseled the granite, the beauty shone through. Are you sure you aren't an artist? You have a great eye for detail."

She shook her head, and he chuckled.

"Well, maybe you were in a past life." He opened the velvet box then faced it toward her.

Exquisite. The smoky quartz was dark and polished. He'd overlaid the edge of the stone in silver. Larger than she remembered, about the size of an egg, but flat on one side; almost as though cleaved in two. A braided silver band created a chain around the crystal and looped up over his hands.

"May I?" He gestured to her.

"Please." She put her bags on the floor and lifted her hair so he could fasten it around her neck.

"Now then, all done."

She spun, and he tugged a mirror closer.

He smiled. "As if it was made for you. See for yourself."

The stone was cold against her skin and almost seemed to vibrate through her. Even though larger than she'd thought, it looked good hovering above her cleavage. With her outfit, she could easily fit on the cover of a Lane Bryant magazine. She studied the stone. The jeweler left the back without a liner. The stone directly contacted her skin with a silver clasp on the outside.

When she glanced over to thank him, the words jammed in her throat. Gone was the elderly gentleman with a graying beard. In his place stood a stumpy man with a large stomach and a white beard that stretched to his feet. Bushy eyebrows nearly concealed his dark eyes. Even his nose was different, more bulbous. He looked similar to how she'd seen Travis when she'd been ill, but wider. Stouter. Her mouth dried.

He said under his breath, "My finest work outside of the Brising necklace my brothers and I crafted for Freya."

What was happening? Renee glanced around for the store owner. Was this man the crafter's brother? Maybe the tones of their voices were similar. Right. The shop's walls pressed in on her with every heartbeat. The air was humid and stifling. She had to get out of there. "So, two hundred and seventy-five, right? Before taxes?"

"Yes. Three hundred and nine after."

She placed four hundred and fifty on the counter. "Does this cover it?" Snatching up her bags, she backed away several steps. "More than enough."

"Keep the change." Her hand went to the stone. "You do lovely work." As she nearly ran to the door, he called out after her. "Come back anytime."

The bell dinged, and she stood outside. Panting. What the hell was wrong with her? Tomorrow she'd locate a doctor.

She looked around the street, but everyone appeared normal. A boy walked a poodle focused on stopping every other second to sniff the ground, a mother pushed twins in a double-stroller, and an old man sat at a café reading a newspaper. Shaking her head, she headed toward the pizza shop. Ten minutes early. Ha, I did it and beat both of them too.

No sign of Damon or Travis outside the pizzeria, but the smell of the cheese, tomato sauce, and spices invited her in. She selected a half pizza with everything from their buffet line. She'd bitten into her third slice, when Damon and Travis strolled in. Bile crept into her throat. Travis looked like one of those garden gnomes again but without the red hat. She knew it was him because he wore the same yellow happy face shirt and off-green parachute pants. His huge owl eyes blinked like the day of her fever, when Damon took care of her.

And Damon.

God, he looked amazing. His skin glowed from the inside as if a soft golden light illuminated him. Even his blond hair appeared magical-perfectly styled and eager for someone to run their hands through its thickness. His blue eyes locked onto hers, but they seemed to shift between a striking blue and cobalt with flecks of gold.

"So, you beat us here?" Travis flopped into a chair to her right and snatched up a slice of her pizza. His cheeks flushed red like Rudolph's nose.

No one else in the café seemed to notice a gnome or girl's wet dream. Maybe she overreacted, and the doctor would explain everything to her and fix it. Should she mention her weird sight to Damon or Travis?

No, they'd probably both think I was insane and cart me off in a straitjacket. Pretend nothing's wrong and call a doctor first thing tomorrow.

Damon smirked and sat across from her. Hard to look at him directly without crawling over the small round table and taste him.

Then his eyes drifted from her face to her breasts, and his face hardened. "W-where did you get that?" Sweat beaded his brow.

She blinked, trying to focus. What? Did the pendant just pulse? It must be a trick of the light. "This?" She fingered it. "From a jeweler up the street. Isn't it lovely? He did a magnificent job of shaping the stone into a necklace." Damon leaned his arm on the table, and she stayed her ground, not backing away. Why was he invading her space?

"What do you mean shaped it into a necklace?" A tinge of anger drifted into his words.

"Well, this was lodged in a piece of granite." Why did he keep gawking at her breasts? The necklace pressed at her cleavage and with the blouse so much lower than she wore usually, his attention made her nervous. She meant to shock him, not the other way around. "I knew the quartz would end up in the trash, the midden, so I kept it as a souvenir." Forcing her nerves to calm, she took a bite of pizza, trying to forget he glared at her boobs. "I was right."

Travis, having scarfed the pizza, looked pale. "A lovely necklace." He glanced at Damon.

"Where did you say you got this?" Damon's gaze narrowed like she was on trial or something.

She swallowed her food. "At the dig site." Why ask about a rock? Sure, it was pretty, but it held no value to an archeologist. When she checked out his credentials before coming here to work with him for the first time, geology wasn't listed. "Why? Did I do something wrong?"

He reclined back. His fisted hands rested on the table between them.

It was just a crystal. Gesh, damn his mood. She did nothing wrong, and he acted all weird like she'd stolen from a museum. While they ate, he kept glancing at her chest. Did the necklace or her cleavage keep drawing his attention? "Aren't you hungry?" she asked. He hadn't eaten anything while Travis devoured her last slice of pizza, then waited in the buffet line with his plate overflowing. Damon shook his head.

Had she done something wrong? Why was he acting so withdrawn?

"So, are you gonna give the group's order now or when Travis is finished?" She took another bite of her pizza as Travis joined them.

The gnome look-alike glanced between her and Damon and then averted his gaze while he ate. She really should visit a brain surgeon. And even without looking, she knew Damon's eyes focused on her.