Hero Unmasked: 3 (Heroes of Saturn)
Page 3
“Exactly.”
Could the answer be so simple? He rose to his feet with a renewed sense of hope. “Thank you, Brett. I didn’t think Earth would be so complicated to traverse. I appreciate your council. Kristos is lucky to have you by his side as an advisor.”
She laughed so hard, she snorted. “Can you please remind him of that?”
“I will do so, often. Have a good night.”
“You too,” she said with a smile that suggested she knew his route home was going to take a detour.
The Sugared Thistle was a convenient five blocks away from the police station, a distance that could have taken him the blink of an eye to travel, but he took his time, needing the scarce few minutes to compose what he wanted to say to Fiona.
She said it herself that morning that she appreciated a man who was straightforward and direct with his intentions. He thought he had been, but now that he replayed their earlier encounters, he had kept his conversation in the friendly range in deference to the nervousness he always sensed from her whenever they were together. If she wanted a take-charge man, he was definitely qualified.
The door to the Mediterranean restaurant opened and out spilled all twelve members of the Cedar Ladies Bridge Club. Their laughter tickled over his skin like seltzer water. He pulled the hood of his windbreaker farther down over his face and skirted past the group before they could stop him with conversation. From experience he knew they could talk about any subject for hours.
He reached the door to the import store just as Fiona was turning the sign in the window to Closed. When she looked up at his hooded face she jumped back with a startled gasp. He flipped back his hood and her look of surprise shifted to an unease of a different sort.
She opened the door and motioned him in.
“Hello, Fiona. I’ve come—”
“For your chocolate.”
“My what?”
She stepped behind the counter and retrieved a bag. “Bridget found the chocolate you left behind earlier. She thought you might be back for it.”
“Oh, thank you.” He shifted the white paper bag from one hand to the other. He wasn’t expecting to have to hold a prop.
Fiona rocked on her heels and looked everywhere around the room but at him as silence fell between them.
What was wrong with him? Never before had he been so tongue-tied, especially around a female. Where was his legendary charm now? As the quietness continued, he realized they were the only souls in the shop. While that worked in his favor for his plans of courtship, who was there to protect her from late-hour assailants?
“Is it just you here?”
She nodded.
“Is that safe? Who’s going to protect you if you have an intruder?”
Her eyebrows rose. “There aren’t that many people looking to knock over a sweet shop. Normally there are two of us here, but business was slow. It usually is when it starts raining in the late afternoon, so I let Mags go home early.”
“Who’s going to escort you to your vehicle?”
A grin flirted with her lips. “I can walk the five feet to my car on my own.”
“Unacceptable. I will wait until you are finished and ensure you make it to your car safely.”
“That’s not necessary.”
“I insist.” Why hadn’t he realized the risk she took closing up the store in the dark winter nights on her own? Mental note. More nightly patrols of the neighborhood during closing hours.
“I’m sure you have better things to do than wait for me to mop the floors.”
“It is not an issue. I’ll even help.” After setting his bag on the counter, he picked up a table with one hand and two chairs in the other, moving them to the side of the room.
“Well, aren’t you handy?” She disappeared through the doorway to the kitchen and came back rolling a bucket filled with purple water. She began in the corner closest to the front door and moved the mop with a smooth back-and-forth motion that spoke of her experience wielding the implement. “So… Will this be your first winter in the Northwest?”
Did his ears just deceive him? Fiona was initiating a conversation? Perhaps wooing her was not going to be as difficult as he thought. “Ya, but compared to winters back home, whatever your weather throws my way will feel tropical.”
“That cold in Sweden, huh? I don’t mind the rain here so much, but the gray can get really oppressive. That’s why my parents and brother moved to Phoenix. Soak up some vitamin D and lounge by the pool. They love it there, but pool attire is not really my style. Have you been south at all?”
“No. I’ve been to the city, but that’s all I’ve been able to see of America.” He shifted the furniture around as she worked, easily anticipating her needs before she directed. “I’d like to see more and explore. Especially if I have the right person to show me around.”
“I’m sure you’ll have plenty of volunteers.”
There was an odd note in her tone that deflated his earlier elation and urged him to get right to the point of his visit.
“Fiona. Would you like to accompany me to dinner this Friday?”
She paused then looked up at him with a wrinkled brow. “Who’s all going?”
“It will be just you and me.”
“Oh.” She worried that full lower lip and strangled the mop handle. “No, thank you.”
He waited, but then she returned to her task as if that was the end of the conversation. No way he was going to leave her rejection at that. “Why not?”
“I know my aunt probably pressured you to ask me out. She thinks a woman can’t be happy unless she’s in a relationship. I can let her know that you did the nice thing and offered, so don’t worry about her bothering you about it again.”
“She didn’t pressure me. I want to go out with you.”
“That’s okay. I get it. You and I don’t orbit in the same circles. It was sweet of you to try to make my aunt happy. You’re a nice guy, very popular. There are at least a couple dozen women you would have a better time with than me.”
The more she talked, the faster she moved, mopping herself right out of the room. The salty-sour taste of her embarrassment coated his tongue. How could she think that he had to be persuaded to spend time with her?
“Fiona, this has nothing to do with your aunt.” He followed her squeaky trail and caught up with her near the cleaning closet. “Why don’t you believe me?”
“Because I’m me and you’re you, and I know she thinks I need to find a real man instead of fantasizing about the one I can’t have.”
There was another? His breath caught at the thought. “Who?”
She avoided the question by bending over to tilt the bucket of dirty water into the low utility basin. He lifted the container with ease and tipped it the rest of the way for her.
“Whoa, you’re huge,” he heard her murmur under her breath.
He looked down at her and realized how much smaller she was than he. This was the first time she stood before him without a counter or table between them. The top of her head reached him mid-chest and her eyes were as large as chocolate chip cookies as she stared up, way up at him and visually measured the breadth of his shoulders as he unintentionally trapped her in the corner.
He stepped back so as not to overwhelm her. “I would like to know who this competitor for your affections is, especially if he is too stupid to have made a bid for your hand already.”
A crooked grin touched her lips. “Are you for real? I don’t know anyone who talks like you do.” She took the bucket from him and retreated to the closet, releasing a small sigh once she increased the distance between them.
“English is not my native tongue, and you’re avoiding the question.”
“I don’t want to discuss this with you. It’s silly and you’ll think I am the stupid one.”
“I will not think you are stupid.”
“Why not? The man doesn’t know I exist and I know nothing about him. Nothing. Not even the color of his eyes or
hair. I don’t even know if he has hair. How ridiculous is that?” She dropped her head and bit her lip as she swirled the mop across the floor. “But I can’t stop thinking about him, and until that stops, no one else compares. Not even you, who is like the second most gorgeous man in Cedar.”
That made him smile. She thought he was good-looking? At least that gave him something to work with. “Second?”
“He comes first. And your cousins are taken. I don’t crush on men in committed relationships, even in my imagination. Look, just forget I said anything. Please.”
How is it she knew this man was attractive, yet so little else about his appearance. Oh-ho!
If Amaryllis had been there, she would have smacked him in the head and shouted one of her favorite American colloquialisms, “Well, duh.”
“It’s the Chameleon, isn’t it?” he asked, half afraid to hope.
The pink flush racing across her cheeks was his answer. She busied herself by untying the apron around her waist and hanging it on its designated peg, arranging the fabric until it fell to her precise specifications.
Why hadn’t he realized her desire for his alter ego had gone behind simple lustful appreciation? This was good. Maybe not exactly as he planned, but he could make this work in his favor.
“I can see why you find him interesting. I think most of the women in this town think he’s fascinating.”
“Don’t remind me,” she muttered.
He leaned against the butcher block table with feigned casualness. “So what is it about him that keeps you up at nights? How do you know he’s worth your affections?”
“Are you kidding?” She continued to look away as she pulled on her coat and gathered her purse. “He’s kind and compassionate. He takes action when needed but he can take direction too, you know, from the sheriff or the fire captain, which means he’s willing to work with others. He’s humble, well, most of the time. Lately…” She frowned and shook her head.
What? What? “Lately…” he repeated.
She shrugged. “I don’t know. It just seems like lately he’s been a bit showy.”
Alarm straightened his spine. “Showy? I do not know this word.”
“Like showboating. Showing off his talents for attention. He used to appear on the scene, do his thing and then leave with a little wave once the day was saved. But recently I’ve noticed he amps up the applause, egging on the crowd. Kind of like he’s getting off on the attention.”
“Is that wrong? Maybe he thinks the people want more of him.”
“What more could they want? He risks his life for them all the time. I like him when he’s humble. Like today.”
Mental note—don’t sign autographs. “If you are interested in him, why don’t you let him know?”
She burst out laughing as she opened the back door and waited for him to exit before locking it shut. “Yeah, like I know where he lives or hangs out. And as you’ve said, he has a lot of admirers. Trust me, the interest will only be one-sided.”
“You don’t know that. I’m interested in you. Please go out with me this weekend?”
Over their heads a streetlamp flickered, casting half her face in shadow. She took a deep breath and let it out in a slow, billowy cloud. “I can’t. Look, thank you for asking, but I’m very aware of who I am. I’m the stay-at-home-with-a-good-book kind of girl and you’re adrenaline and adventure. I’d bore you to tears. Guys like you don’t have happily-ever-afters with girls like me.” Her voice cracked and she looked away as a shimmer glistened in her eyes. “Thank you for walking me to my car. Have a good night, Office Kilsgaard.”
As she raced the few steps to her vehicle, a sharp ache filled the spot in his chest between his two hearts. Now he understood. She didn’t think she was worthy. The fear she harbored of being hurt reached out like a mystical hand to tighten around his throat. With his powers he picked up the incessant warning for her to hold her desires in check. If she didn’t go after what she wanted, she wouldn’t get hurt.
What had happened in her past to give her such a low opinion of herself? Nothing in his conversations with her aunt indicated a great heartache in Fiona’s life, but something had made an impression.
After a quick glance around to ensure he was alone, he shimmied up the lamppost and adjusted the flickering light to constantly illuminate the parking area, then jumped down with thoughts of Fiona racing through his mind.
He needed a new approach to get her to take a chance on them. Words were only words, but actions spoke volumes.
A smile stretched his lips as a plan took shape. She may not listen to him, but there was one person she would most definitely believe.
Chapter Three
“Earth to Fiona.” Mags clapped her hands in front of Fiona’s nose. “You’ve washed that rack of dishes three times now.”
“Oh geez.” Fiona pulled on the arm of the industrial dishwasher and slid out the steaming tray full of mixing bowls and spatulas. The hot metal scorched her fingertips as she put them away.
“You’ve been spacey all day. Are you all right?”
“Yeah, just been thinking.”
Contemplating was more like it. The previous night’s conversation with Officer Kilsgaard wouldn’t let her rest. Instead of a peaceful night’s sleep, her imagination kept her awake with thoughts of painting his chest in caramel and licking him clean.
It had been easier to not think of him in a sexual way when she knew she had no chance of gaining his interest. But now, oh now, there was the possibility and never was there a more dangerous concept. Possibilities meant there was hope and hope could be doused as quickly as a match under a waterfall.
Was she completely insane turning down his eloquent request for a date? Really, what was the worst that could happen?
Well, she could fall in love with him, begin making plans for the future then have him dump her, leaving her as the newest Janice Harbinger of Cedar. Lovely.
Mags hung up her apron and reached for her coat. “Fiona, honey, do you want to talk about it?”
Yeah, like that was a brilliant idea. Not. Mags was already moody because Officer Kilsgaard hadn’t asked her out the day before. This particular can of worms was best left sealed tightly closed.
“No, I’m good, really. Thanks for asking. Hey, can you take that box of unsold cookies by the fire station on your way home? If it’s not a bother.”
She snorted a short laugh. “Are you kidding? It will be my pleasure. Do you know how popular I’ll be taking sweets to those hunky guys? Maybe I’ll leave with a date.”
“How do you do it?” Fiona couldn’t help to ask. “I mean, how can you just put yourself out there like that with men? Doesn’t it suck being heartbroken?”
Mags paused with her scarf in her hand. She slowly wound it around her neck as her eyes flickered with thought. “Yeah, it sucks, but at least I tried. I don’t know. I like being in a relationship. Maybe I like it too much, which would explain why I keep going after the wrong guys. I settle for the next one instead of waiting for the right one. Men are like shoes. They may look great on the shelf, but until you try them on, you don’t know if they’ll make you look great or break your ankle if you take the wrong step.”
“That makes too much sense.” Fiona smiled for the first time that day.
“I do have my moments. But seriously. Men are stupid. Sometimes you have to make the first move or else they’ll sit on their hands forever. Their caveman instinct has been drummed out of them by the feminist movement. Now we have to do everything.”
“Wow, Mags, I wish I was as brave as you.”
“Brave? Me? I’d say I’m more blissfully ignorant. If I think about it too much, I probably would stay home all of the time, wear turtleneck sweaters that go up to my eyeballs and take care of twenty cats. But I don’t like cats, so out into the world I go.”
Well, Fiona didn’t have the cats, but there were a few high-neck sweaters in her closet. Oh God, she was going to become the crazy cat lady.
“Thanks, I think.”
“Do you want to take the cookies to the fire station? There are a few new recruits who looked pretty cute.” She wiggled her eyebrows.
“No, you can have first pick. Besides, what would I have in common with a young fireman?”
“More than you think, boss lady. You’re a pretty good catch.” She pulled her scarf over the lower portion of her face. “Have a good night.”
“You too. Drive safe.”
Fiona tugged on her coat and slung her purse over her shoulder as she turned off light switches on her way to the door. Could she borrow a page from Mags and take a chance on Officer Kilsgaard? Dhavin. If she was going to entertain the notion of a date, she had to start thinking of him as a man with a first name.
A laugh lodged in her throat and her skin tingled. As if she could forget he was a man.
Don’t think about it. Don’t think about it.
Like Mags said, if she thought about the pitfalls, she’d chicken out. Once she got home she’d find his phone number in her client files and give him a call…after a glass, or two, or three, of wine.
As she stepped outside a brisk wind barreled down the alley. Holy geez. She shivered and drew her arms in tight, that was icy. Winter had officially arrived, as much as she tried to ignore the signs of frosted windows and day after day of gray skies. The weather forecast called for a chance of snow. She hated snow. Snow meant bad roads, dented fenders and no customers.
She blew on her palms, tossing her keys from one hand to the other as she minded her steps on the slick asphalt.
“Oh shoot,” she muttered as the keys slipped out of her hand and skidded across the ground.
She crouched down and squinted into the absolute darkness. She reached under the car and felt along the ground blindly. “Come on. Come on.”
“Do you wish to be attacked? You make a tempting target.”
She shot up to a stand and jumped back with a scream as a human figure landed before her in a smooth crouch.