And Nathaniel, I reminded myself as he winked at me across the table. If I ended up in a ditch by the side of the road, Nathaniel would be devastated. He and I were the only family we had—he’d been in my life since I was eight years old. Throughout the years my mother had worked for Nathaniel, she’d become like a daughter to him. The three of us had formed our own little family until her death left Nathaniel and me with only each other. I smiled back at my grandfather, silently praying Dothan wasn’t a serial killer.
Chapter 7
Each hour that crept by on Friday afternoon intensified the activity of the butterflies in my stomach, until I thought I might vomit as the clock hands neared seven. That sounded about right for my first date with Dothan.
How exactly did one date, anyway, without actually touching? I mulled this over for the hundredth time as I played with the stack of copper bangles circling my wrist in an attempt to keep my fingers busy. I’d told him already the shock didn’t hurt—I hope he didn’t interpret that as an open invitation to maul me. Although honestly, being touched by a hot guy with a stimulating current running through his hands wasn’t the worst thing I could think of. Did his lips emit the same electricity? For that matter, what about—
The bells above the door jingled. Heat exploded in my cheeks as Dothan cautiously stepped into the shop. Oh, God. I fumbled for my water bottle, silently cursing my wicked train of thought. Hopefully my position behind the counter provided enough distance to hide my radioactive glow.
Luckily, Dothan seemed more concerned with scoping out our surroundings. His gaze traveled through the empty shop twice before landing on me. He looked unbelievably hot in jeans and a battered leather jacket, his hair tied back in a low ponytail at the base of his neck. Dimples emerged as he smiled at me, a devastating contrast to his bad boy appearance.
“Hey, Jamie,” he said, pushing his hands into the pockets of his faded jeans.
I tried to arrange my features into an answering smile that clearly stated, “I wasn’t just thinking about hooking up with you.” Out loud, I mimicked his casual greeting in my most innocent tone. Downing my last swig of water, I took a quick assessment of my wardrobe choice: a sleeveless chocolate brown sweater that matched my eyes, dark blue skinny jeans, and tall, tan “equestrian” style boots that would never do for actual horseback riding. I thought I looked as good as I possibly could.
“Ready?” he asked.
Was I? “I think so.” I stepped out from behind the counter, and his eyes raked over me approvingly. I flushed again, striding to the little closet near the entrance to the book area to retrieve my coat. My purse hung on a hook inside the door, with both my phone and my pepper spray strategically arranged for quick access.
“Oh!” I jumped backwards, dropping my bag as I turned to discover him standing right behind me. He’d somehow crossed the room silently. His hands shot out, catching me at the waist, and my heart thudded painfully in my chest.
“Sorry,” he murmured, his dimples flashing quickly as he tried to suppress a smirk. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”
Everything about you scares me, I thought to myself. Swallowing hard, I managed an “it’s okay” shrug. I was trapped in his semi-embrace; the closet door knob pressed against my lower back as Dothan stood over me, his body so close to mine I could see the fair stubble above his full lips. He smelled like sporty aftershave and fresh hay.
I dropped my gaze, staring straight ahead at the rise and fall of his chest. Adrenaline flooded my veins, preparing my body for flight or fight—but I had nowhere to move, and no desire to fight. Instead I stayed frozen, my muscles trembling with the tension.
He eased us out of the situation by releasing my waist and gently tugging my jacket from my grip. Stepping back, he held it out for me. Wordlessly I turned back to face the closet, willing my arms to stop shaking as he slid the burgundy suede up to my shoulders. I pulled my thick curls out and stepped to the side, breaking our contact. I couldn’t think while I was so close to him.
“I brought you something,” he announced mischievously. “It’s not flowers.” His hand slid into the pocket of his brown leather jacket.
Oh, please don’t be a gun, I prayed silently. I eyed my abandoned purse, a hysterical giggle rising in my throat. How could I be so stupid?
He pulled his hand out, producing a bag of red and white peppermints, complete with a flattened silver bow stuck on top. “I hope these are right.”
The bubble of hysteria broke with an audible rush of breath. Holy cow, he actually brought me the mints. A ridiculous grin pulled at the muscles of my face. “Those are perfect. Thanks.” I reached for them carefully, noting the way he held the plastic bag at the very edge. “I started buying them for Beau, but now I’m the addict.” Reaching for my purse, I slid the crinkled cellophane package in next to my wallet.
“Your secret’s safe with me.”
I gave him a shaky smile, my mind latching on to the word “secret”. Would he ever share any of his? I had a strong suspicion Dothan’s secrets involved much more than a weakness for candy.
Time to be brave. “So, are you enjoying all those books you bought?” I asked as I pulled out my keys. Slinging my purse over my shoulder, I nodded toward the entryway leading to our huge book selection—just in case he needed a physical reminder of his strange purchase last week.
“I’m not sure ‘enjoying’ is the right word,” he answered, scratching at his chin. “They’re interesting. Did you pick a movie out?”
Was he trying to change the subject? That was interesting too. I gestured with my head and we walked together toward the front door.
“I thought maybe Justice Bound?” I’d suggested seeing a movie yesterday at the barn, thinking it would save us from awkward conversation, at least for the bulk of the night. Dothan had insisted I pick which one we’d see. I immediately eliminated anything romantic—I didn’t want to die of embarrassment. And horror films were out too. In the event he was harboring homicidal tendencies, I certainly didn’t want to give him any ideas. The only choice left had been a legal thriller, which felt fairly safe.
“Perfect.”
“Great,” I said, turning to the keypad blinking on the wall. I could feel Dothan hovering behind me, but I didn’t need a code just to arm the system. I hit the button, wincing at the warning beeps as I flicked off the lights.
“Okay?” he asked, reaching for the door handle.
I nodded, exiting the shop as he held the door open for me. The evening darkness had already fallen; the sun was now setting at almost exactly seven o’clock each night. I turned in the shadows, using my key to lock the glass door. Oops. I’d left our little wooden sign on “Open”. Oh, well. Any stray potential customer with half a brain would figure it out.
Dothan’s hand settled on my lower back, sending my pulse skittering in wild bursts. A pair of headlights illuminated the street briefly as he steered me in the opposite direction of my car.
“Wait. My car is here.” Somehow in my anxiety and excitement I’d forgotten about that. I hesitated on the sidewalk, the night air cooling my overheated skin. “Should we drive separately?” It was only a five minute drive from the old shops of historic Center Street to the new strip mall, where the movie theaters, trendy restaurants, and chain stores were located.
“We’ll go in my car,” he said decisively. His hand pressed into my back with a gentle pressure that somehow felt all too powerful, despite the layers of clothing blocking the current.
A little thrill snaked up my spine, not only because of the potential danger, but also because it had been a long time since someone told me what to do. Other than the profane suggestions of my classmates, of course.
I nodded, swallowing hard as we approached a lone dark blue sedan parallel parked well away from the nearest streetlight. While I didn’t know a lot about cars, it looked like a well-kept older model BMW. The locks suddenly chirped, and I jumped. Dothan reached over, opening the passenger door.
; Here goes nothing, I thought as I slid into the seat. Just in case he didn’t kill me, I consulted my mental list of harmless topics of conversation: Fox Run, horses, Tom the cat, favorite movies. Perhaps we could even exchange last names.
Of course the first thing he did was turn on the radio. “What do you like to listen to?”
I ground my teeth together. Music would help fill an awkward silence, but anything sounding remotely like rock irritated me. Not because I thought the songs themselves sucked; I’d just come to associate the entire genre with a personal issue I had no intention of explaining.
Great. Now I was going to sound like the weird one. I really should have insisted on driving my own car.
“Do you mind if we leave it off?” I asked, staring at the radio lights glowing in the darkness. I settled for an old stand-by excuse. “Music tends to give me a headache.”
Instead of looking at me like I had two heads, he just nodded and snapped off the sound with a quick flick of his wrist. He turned toward me, the planes of his face hardened with concern. “Do you want to stop by the store and get some aspirin?”
My heart contracted painfully. If he was planning on harming me later, he was certainly doing a good job of throwing me off the track now. “I’m fine. It’s just something about the drums,” I added. True enough.
“You’re sure?” he asked, shifting the gear into drive. “Because there’ll probably be music in the movie. And the trailers.”
“I’m sure. Background music doesn’t really register when I’m watching something else.” I pushed my fist into my lap, holding it down with my other hand before my fingers could fight their way to my mouth. “Sorry,” I added with a defeated shrug. I considered telling him classical would be fine, but the thought of us driving around to a sonata on our first date seemed ridiculous.
“No worries. I don’t mind the quiet.” He glanced into his side mirror before pulling out into the empty street.
I bit down on my lip to keep from laughing. At least he didn’t say he “preferred” the quiet, because he certainly wasn’t going to get that from me.
Honestly, when I was alone, I not only preferred quiet, I cherished it. Around others, though, silence intensified the anxiety I’d developed since my mother’s death. A lull in the conversation made me feel responsible for filling the void.
My mom had possessed the ability to set people at ease, no matter what the situation. She could find common ground with anyone, gracefully moving forced small talk into a meaningful exchange with almost no effort. In the eight years she’d worked in Nathaniel’s shop, she’d rarely had a customer leave empty-handed.
But I didn’t inherit my mom’s gift, and sooner or later I’d have to accept that controlling a conversation did not equal controlling life. Right now, though, I voted for later. I flipped through my approved topics as Dothan made a U-turn at a light. No signs declared the move illegal, but my muscles tensed at the sight of distant headlights bearing down on us.
I settled on a generic discussion of Fox Run, and my tactics got us all the way into the theater with minimal discomfort. Movie trailers flickered across the giant screen as I followed Dothan toward the center of one of the back rows. Dothan had bought us drinks and a giant tub of popcorn to share, and I could tell he was taking great pains to keep our hands from touching as we took turns reaching into the greasy tub.
Before I could think too much about it, I purposefully plunged my fingers in out of turn and received a tiny electric twinge when our skin connected. He snatched his hand away, staring hard at the screen.
“Either your voltage is getting weaker, or I’m getting used to it,” I whispered.
He looked at me incredulously, his clear brown eyes full of something closer to fear than I’d ever seen. Guilt swept over me, but I was determined to get this out in the open, even if I didn’t get any answers.
For now, I provided him with one. “I guess we have some kind of chemical reaction,” I said with a shrug. “It’s kind of cool.”
Relief crept over his shadowy features. “It really doesn’t…hurt you?”
I shook my head emphatically, wiggling my fingers over the popcorn tub to prove they were uninjured. “Nope. It’s like static electricity, except a lot more pleasant,” I assured him. “Now that I know to expect it, it’s really no big deal.”
My hand remained extended, an invitation hovering between us.
With a questioning glance, he laced his fingers through mine with such exquisite gentleness it made my heart hurt. A mild charge hummed along my nerves, settling into a soothing warmth.
“It’s fine,” I murmured. “Do you feel it?”
He shook his head as he tightened his grip a fraction. “No. But I know it happens.” He pressed his lips together in the darkness as though he’d said too much. Dropping his chin, he added, “I guess I’m…wired differently.”
I shrugged dramatically so he could see my lack of concern, keeping my palm pressed into his. “Everyone’s different. I just wanted you to know it doesn’t bother me.” I turned my gaze back to the screen, done with the topic. But my breath caught in my throat as I waited to see what he would do.
He slowly rotated his wrist so his hand was on the bottom, then lowered our joined hands to the armrest. The opening credits for Justice Bound rolled and with a small shudder, my lungs resumed their normal functioning rhythm.
Chapter 8
The smell of freshly ground coffee beans enveloped us as we entered the Java Café. Dothan released the door behind me and linked his hand with mine again. Since the movie, he’d only let go of my hand when absolutely necessary. I shivered with pleasure as he led me to the counter.
“A decaf latte, please,” I ordered. It was already ten o’clock at night, and I anticipated difficulty sleeping without any additional stimulants. Dothan placed his own order and motioned for me to sit down while he waited for our coffees.
I scanned the trendy interior, searching for the most remote table. I’d already checked the café for kids from my school—only a group of sophomores by the front windows, so far. They wouldn’t give me any trouble, but more customers could filter in any time. I wasn’t taking any chances.
To his credit, Dothan hadn’t pressed me further on the motivation behind the paintball ambush. While it wasn’t a topic I wanted to discuss, I’d probably tell him at this point, if he asked. I wasn’t ashamed.
My only regret involved the timing of the whole fall-out. But I could never have foreseen the sequence of events. When everything blew up at school last March, I’d already been in a precarious spot socially, floating between groups of friends. The group I’d hung out with since elementary school had eagerly embraced every risky behavior they could find: drinking, drugs, ditching school, and casual sex. When the girls began wearing colored bracelets to showcase their sexual exploits like twisted badges of debasement, I cut ties completely. And not very nicely, either. But all those activities carried potentially serious consequences, several of which had touched my life intimately. I had Sam to support me as I pulled away, but I knew I needed friends in my grade.
I tried to fit in with the scholarly group, since I was smart and earned good grades. But I didn’t have that drive to overachieve like the other geniuses. I just wanted to do well enough to be able to spend my free time at the barn, with no interference from after-school detention or mandatory extra credit work.
My solitary sport was another problem; I had no teammates to rely on in tough times. But Sam did, and she leveraged the soccer team’s loyalty to her as best she could. I repaid the kindness by doing my best not to be a burden.
And really, being alone suited me most of the time. Although a relationship with another social outcast who just so happened to be a hot guy who loved animals and brought me mints might be nice. My gaze flicked to Dothan’s tall form as I wove through the tables toward the back of the café.
In addition to avoiding my classmates, I also wanted the privacy afforded by an out-of-t
he-way table. We’d overcome one hurdle already tonight, and I sensed a tentative bond of trust between us. I knew I would probably be pushing my luck with additional questions, but I was ready to delve deeper.
He found me in the dark corner, and the side of his lip curved into an approving half-smirk. Setting the steaming mugs down, he shrugged out of his leather jacket and hooked it over the chair before sitting across from me.
We’d already discussed the movie in the car, so I decided to see what else I could learn about Dothan. Tread carefully, I reminded myself as I blew on my latte. “I’m really enjoying myself tonight,” I said honestly.
A genuine smile spread across his face, unleashing the hidden dimples and lighting his amber eyes. Forget it, I thought as I struggled not to swoon. I don’t need to know his last name.
Yes, I did. I forged ahead. “But I realized I don’t even know your full name. Or your age.” I wrapped my hands around my mug and took a small sip, watching him over the rim.
His inner battle only lasted a second. “I’m 18. And it’s Reed,” he said finally.
Relief flooded through me. “Dothan Reed. I like it.”
“What’s yours?”
I suppressed a grin. This was so backwards. Then again, I seemed to remember from the days I’d been invited to parties that people hooked up without even knowing first names. So maybe this wasn’t so strange. “Brandt.”
“Jamie Brandt,” he repeated, his voice low. “It suits you. It’s pretty. And simple.”
I widened my eyes in mock dismay. “Are you calling me simple?”
He laughed. “No, no…I meant…unpretentious.” Feigning exasperation, he sighed and tucked a loose lock of blond hair behind his ear. “I did say ‘pretty’, too—you heard that, right?”
“I did. Thank you.” Warmth pooled in my belly, and I shifted self-consciously. “My mom named me after her favorite actress: Jamie Lee Curtis.”
“Yeah? From those old scary movies? My dad and I had a marathon watch one Halloween.” A shadow crossed his face, and his hand clenched into a fist on the industrial steel tabletop. He shook his head as if to clear it, relaxing the tight bands of muscle along his forearm. “Which movie is her favorite?”
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