by Raine Miller
My mind wandered to the weird clouds and the threat from the night before. I’d seen lots of strange things with the Sight, but nothing quite like that. I took a sip of coffee, reassured by its warmth as I pushed the nagging feeling in my gut aside. Instead I thought of Arie’s reassuring presence and him changing my tire. I hoped to see him during my shift. Arie… Now there’s someone who could hold my interest. Heat rushed to my cheeks as I fantasized about running my fingers through his dark curls, kissing his mouth, running my hands over his shoulders and more—there was much more I wanted to do to him. I only hoped he would stop by the Coffee Grind later. Mystic jumped on the table, meowing at me. “Oh here,” I said distractedly.
Swiping a finger through my cream cheese, I offered him one of his favorites. He adored and loved anyone willing to give him dairy. Mystic lapped up the cream cheese before begging for more, but his pet human had to be at work in a little over an hour, so I headed to the bathroom with a sigh. I wished there was enough time for me to hop on my laptop and do a little research about the odd atmospheric changes yesterday, but I’d be late if I did that. Besides, I had a feeling that an internet search wouldn’t be able to tell me anything useful to rationalize what I thought was pretty much impossible. Well, at least today I had something other than Marshall’s constant stream of demands to look forward to.
CHAPTER 2
The Coffee Grind stood on the South Side of Chicago, just below Cermak Road. Rain trickled off the awning outside the window and my sullen mood matched the abysmal weather. I hoped Arie would stop in, but he’d done the same disappearing act as the morning sun. Very few customers filled the uneventful day, which wore on without his scrutinizing presence at the counter. He usually stopped in toward the end of my shift, and it had become a routine that I looked forward to. Finally we had talked, and more than that, he’d helped fix my flat. I really wanted him to ask me out, and I decided that if I saw him today I would summon the courage to do the asking if he didn’t. I wanted him, in the worst way.
On top of that, Marshall had been in one of his moods all day. I heard him shuffle out of his office and turned toward the stale stench of cigar smoke that jogged me out of my daydream.
“Hey princess, are you going to mop that floor or am I paying you to stare out the window?”
I felt my jaw clench as I resisted the urge to tell him to stop being such a prick. “Yeah, I’ll do it now.”
He lumbered back into his office, shutting the door as I grabbed a mop from the storeroom. The bell above the entrance chimed and my heart leapt into my throat. I raised my head with a hopeful glance toward the door and felt disappointed when it wasn’t Arie. Trina, with her broad smile and caramel-colored skin, entered the coffee shop for her shift. She plopped her oversized handbag under the counter and grabbed an apron. A heavy sigh escaped my lips and I began mopping the grimy tile.
“Hey, Holly!”
“Hey.”
“Uh-oh,” Trina said as I grimaced at the mop bucket. “I know that look. I guess Marshall’s giving you a hard time. He’s been awful since Connie…well, you know. I just feel terrible for that man.”
God knows cancer is a hard thing to talk about, but I cringed when Trina couldn’t bring herself to say it. Sometimes she treated cancer like it was a dirty word. “I guess. But that doesn’t mean he has to be insufferable. It’s been more than a year.”
“Honey, when my mamma lost her battle with breast cancer I felt like I’d lost my whole world. It takes time, and there’s no telling how long. We just have to give him space until he’s ready to move on.”
I shifted uneasily and looked down at the mop, wringing out the grayish water. Shit, I forgot about her mom. “I’m sorry. You know I didn’t mean anything by it. It’s just been a long day.”
“Trust me, baby girl, I know how frustrating it can be.”
“Hey, do you think it would be okay if I left ten minutes early, since you’re here now?”
“Sure thing, honey.”
“Thanks, Trina. I have to stop at the bank and pick up some milk. And the bank will be closed when I get out.”
“No problem. You’d do the same for me.”
“Trina, have you ever seen a guy in here with dark hair and a ‘V’ tattooed on his hand?”
“Good-looking guy who wears a leather jacket?”
“Yeah.”
“Sure. Why do you ask?”
“What do you think of him?”
“Well, he’s always polite. He has a nice smile and he leaves really good tips. That’s probably why I remember him. Why, do you have a thing for him?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe.” Really? Positively. Definitively. Yes. Yes, I want him. Every day of the week and twice on Sundays.
I finished up, tossing the mop and bucket into the storeroom. A few droplets of dingy water splashed over the side as I grabbed my satchel and headed out the door. The purple-tinged sky cast a peculiar light on the pavement. Dense clouds still threatened from above, but it had stopped raining during my boring shift.
He stood huddled under the awning attached to the weathered building and I almost didn’t see him in the shadows. I stood staring at him for a long moment in awkward silence, listening to the slushing sound of tires pass through a puddle in the street. He was undeniably sexy. I wasn’t on cloud nine. I was on cloud ten.
“Hi,” I said, trying to sound casual.
“Hello.”
“What are you doing here? I mean… Arie, I wanted to thank you for fixing my flat, but you took off before I had the chance.”
A goofy grin curved his mouth. “Sorry.”
“If I didn’t know better, I’d say you’re stalking me. You know…you should just ask me out already.” There. I’d said it. And I held my breath as I waited for him to say something.
His eyes widened infinitesimally. “You want me to ask you out?”
“Uh…I dunno,” I said with a shrug. “Maybe. At least it would explain your lurking. Otherwise it just comes off as creepy.”
“Trust me—you don’t want to go out with me.” A pained sort of expression mixed with something else…longing? I couldn’t be sure, but it seemed like the idea appealed to him even though he fought against it for some reason.
I shoved my hands in my pockets, feeling dejected by his reaction. “Fine. There’s a reason why I’m alone. I’m comfortable that way. And I think it would be a lot easier if we just forget this conversation. You can find somewhere else to stop for coffee while you’re at it.”
He grabbed my arm when I started to brush past him. I looked up into his eyes, embarrassed but unwilling to pull away. “Don’t be that way. I’m just trying to save you from a mistake that would cause you infinite pain.” His hand dropped to his side and pain etched his face.
“Oh, please. Just stop already. You grin and go all smoldering eyes on me and then choose the lamest, most ineffective move. If playing games is your idea of flirting then just forget it.”
He took a step toward me. “Is that really what you want?”
I bit my lower lip while looking into eyes that were like fire and ice combined. The same dizziness I felt when he fixed my tire pressed down on me as he leaned forward. I felt my knees buckle beneath me. Images of my face smashing into the sidewalk ran through my mind, and seemed a likely conclusion. Within moments strong arms wrapped around my waist, holding me steady.
Take slow, deep breaths.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t eat lunch. I guess my sugar is a little low,” I said, pulling away.
Although, I didn’t think blood sugar had anything to do with it. It seemed like a reaction to him or the way he looked at me. As much as I wanted him, I didn’t think it explained the powerful response that I felt sometimes with Arie.
“Are you headed home?”
I looked down at my leather cuff watch and sighed. I couldn’t get out of there fast enough after his humiliating rejection. It didn’t help my pride that I still wanted him anyway.
<
br /> “Well, I was going to stop at the bank but I probably won’t make it. I guess I just have to stop at Save-A-Lot on the way home. Why do you ask?”
“Why don’t you let me drive you to the store? And then I’ll drop you off at your house.”
I shook my head. “I feel fine now. Really. And no offense, but I don’t even know you.”
“You nearly collapsed. I’m not so harmless, but I promise I won’t do anything you don’t want me to.”
My breath caught in my throat. Maybe he did want me. The way he looked at me and his words were sexy as hell. “I can’t. I drove my car to work and I won’t be able to get to work tomorrow if I leave it.”
“Then I’ll drive your car.”
His logical responses wore me down. I felt confused and muddled when I was around him. The way he looked at me made me feel dizzy—like he was persuading me somehow. Not that I minded being persuaded. Even though my better judgment screamed I shouldn’t go anywhere with someone I’d just met, I sensed that he wouldn’t hurt me. And my desire overruled my logical protest. His voice seemed hypnotic. Sure, he was good-looking. I thought him hanging around the Coffee Grind, fixing my flat, and then waiting outside was because he wanted me. I don’t like games and don’t make it a habit to drive off with strangers. Except every time I tried to form an objection in my mind it felt like I’d drunk too much wine without ever touching a drop. My response to him surprised me. Even though I wanted him, I couldn’t figure out why I felt like such a dizzy mess when his eyes shone like quicksilver rather than their typical gray. Wait…did his eyes just change color, or am I hallucinating?
“Why not? It’s not like the Bug is worth very much whether you wreck it or not.”
“Good. Consider this my way of making up to you for not asking you out.”
“Yeah, well it’s not like Save-A-Lot is my idea of a date,” I said with a laugh.
“Trust me, when I decide to take you on a date, you’ll know it.”
The dizziness had passed and his eyes looked just as gray as they did before, but the way he looked at me provoked images of his hands roaming my body and his cock inside of me. And it had been a really long time. Testing my own plumbing didn’t quite count.
“When you take me on a date? Well, aren’t you confident.” I smirked.
I couldn’t help the sarcasm, still feeling slightly wounded from my failed attempt at flirtation. Especially when he looked at me like he wanted to press me against the brick front of the Coffee Grind and take me right then and there, despite his rejection.
“Holly, I just want to make sure you’re okay. Your keys?”
I plunked the keys into his outstretched palm. His skin felt cold and hard, like he had sleet inside his bones. And I wondered what those cool fingers would feel like trailing up my inner thighs as he… Stop it, Holly.
“Here, take them.”
I pulled the hood of my cargo jacket over my head to shut out the misty air and slid into the passenger seat.
We drove in silence and I chanced a sideways glance, unable to ignore his pearlescent skin, high cheekbones, and gray eyes. I had an overwhelming urge to scream “Freedom,” at the top of my lungs just to break the stillness. Then he’ll definitely think you’re a crazy nut job. Say something—say anything.
“You have an odd accent,” I said with a cough. “So where are you from? I’ve always wanted to travel. I really want to go to Italy and ride in a gondola. I think it would be really romantic, except I heard that there’s really big rats in Italy. But I told my co-worker, Trina, that I wouldn’t mind because Chicago has lots of rats too. So I’m used to it.”
He looked over at me but then fixed his eyes back on the road.
“And I keep trying to place your accent but it’s really very faint…”
“Do you always talk this much?” he asked with a smile.
“I know. I’m sorry. When I get nervous, I get this sort of verbal diarrhea.” Yup, he thinks I’m nuts.
Pulling into an empty parking space in the grocery store lot, he turned to me with a serious look. “Isn’t it enough to just be with someone?”
I swallowed. I wanted to lean forward and kiss him, but one rejection was enough for today. It would be inappropriate for me to answer his question with what I was really thinking—that at that moment I didn’t want to be with anyone else. “I just have to grab a few things. I’ll be right out.” I slammed the car door and dashed across the parking lot before he had a chance to respond.
Grabbing a basket, I turned down aisles, cursing myself for my stupidity. It wasn’t fair for someone to possess such earth-shattering beauty. It made me into this tongue-tied blabbering mess. When I reached the cash register, I emptied the contents of my basket onto the belt. I felt distracted and wasn’t even sure at this point what I’d grabbed.
I tossed the bags in the back and buckled myself into the passenger seat.
“So where do you live?” he asked.
That same pressing dizziness weighed down on me. I could swear his eyes glinted silver, but only for an instant. Yet as he continued to look at me, I felt dizzy but oddly safe. He had been a perfect gentleman, and I had no clear reason for doubting him. But I wondered why he would go out of his way when he’d rejected me. And why was saying no to him so difficult?
“Why are you doing this?” I asked.
“Doing what?”
I shrugged. “Driving me home. What’s in it for you? You have an aversion to asking me out. So obviously that’s not why you’re doing it.”
“I never said I didn’t want to ask you out. I said you shouldn’t go out with me. Not to sound like I’m passing you a note in study hall but I do like you—you intrigue me.” His smoky eyes darkened as he looked at me almost as if he were undressing me. “And in my day it was the gentleman who was supposed to do the asking.”
Arie puzzled me. I wanted to ask him if he wanted me the way I was starting to think he did from the look in his eyes, then why the hell didn’t he do something about it? And for some reason I found it hard to picture Arie ever being in high school. I bit my lower lip.
“I think you’d better adjust to the twenty-first century then,” I said with more irritation then I had intended. “Go down to the light and make a right,” I said, pointing down the block. “At the third light, make a left.”
He nodded in the darkness.
“Okay, this is me. Thanks for the lift.”
Parallel parking faster than I’ve ever seen, especially with my car, he pulled into a narrow space. Arie dropped the keys in my lap almost like he didn’t want to touch me. Then he reached through the seats and grabbed the grocery bags before I had a chance to stop him. He walked me to my door, and I fumbled unlocking it. I turned to him, hoping he might disappear like before so I wouldn’t have to invite him in. He stood so close I could feel his breath on my forehead and smell his leather jacket mixed with the smell of winter. When he was so near, it made me change my mind. Inviting him in was exactly what I wanted to do. Despite his rejection, despite everything sensible telling me not to, because damn it, I wanted him more than anyone I’d ever met in my entire life. And when he looked at me like he wanted me the same way I wanted him, I felt my disappointment melt away.
“Do you want to come in? I could make you coffee. But just coffee,” I said, and bit my lower lip.
His lopsided boyish grin turned my guts to twisted steel. “If you want me to come in, I will.” The grin vanished as quickly as it had appeared, and he looked all serious again.
I opened the door and, holding my breath, I rounded the corner to follow him. Without being directed he placed the bags of groceries on my kitchen table. I shrugged off my coat and tossed it over a chair. As I put the groceries away his eyes watched me with a teasing and possessive look that I found disarming. It left me a little speechless, and I busied myself with making the coffee. Supporting the impression of a roguish knight, he appeared dangerous, sexy, and out of place leaning against my kitchen c
ounter. Yet there was something about him that made me feel protected and safe. I couldn’t begin to explain it even if I tried.
“Don’t be afraid, Holly.”
I searched his eyes. Finding his unflinching gaze able to meet mine, I felt that I could trust him and handed him a mug of coffee before heading to the living room with mine. I flopped on my thrift-store sofa and crossed my legs, sitting Indian-style. He draped his lean body against a wall across from me, sipping the bitter liquid. A strange thrill coiled deep in my belly. He was looking around my apartment, his gaze fixed on my bookcase.
“I see you like to read.”
“Ever since I was a little kid.” I didn’t add that it was an escape from the torments of foster care.
He nodded. “I’ve read a lot of books over the years.”
“So tell me…where are you from, Arie?”
“Europe.”
That explained the accent. “That’s a pretty big place. Where in Europe exactly?”
His mouth twisted into a smirk. “I’ve moved around a lot.”
“So you were a military brat?”
He paused to take a sip of his coffee. “Not exactly. Though my father was a soldier. I find it hard to stay in one place for too long.”
“But why?”
“Are you sure you want to know the answer?”
I gulped and looked down into my mug. Mystic walked lazily into the living room. He stopped a few feet from Arie with his tail sticking straight up and let out a snake-like hiss. Green eyes met gray in some sort of psychological standoff as Arie stiffened and looked with disdain at the cat. Suddenly, Mystic jumped up to a shelf on my bookcase, knocking books and a glass vase—from the bouquet of flowers Mrs. Ellis had given me at graduation—to the floor before bolting down the hall to my bedroom. The vase shattered into pieces of blue glass that scattered across the floor boards.
