Fangs But No Fangs yb-2

by Kathy Love

  Christian leaned against the side of the building, watching her. Those eyes still unfathomable. She slid the key in the lock, on the first try, thankfully. Then she scanned the parking lot for Christian’s car. Only Mark’s big feed truck sat in the patch of dusty gravel. She could hear his loud, liquor-induced snoring from there.

  She knew he’d be gone by morning. He’d be too embarrassed to hang around. He’d also be sporting a swollen lip and a heck of a sore jaw in the morning. She tried to feel sorry for him, but couldn’t muster the emotion. She didn’t advocate violence, but Mark had had that coming for a long time.

  “Where’s your car?” she asked.

  “I walked here.”

  “Why?”

  He shrugged. “Just had the urge to walk.”

  “How did you know this is where I was?” She hadn’t thought about that earlier. She’d been too surprised to see him, and then too distracted by him.

  He shrugged again, one of his half-smiles tugging at his lips. “I just had a feeling.”

  She considered him for a moment, then started walking toward the road. He fell into step beside her. She could feel him at her side, not even a foot away. The warm spring air seemed to crackle with her awareness of him.

  “Why did you leave your hometown?” he asked suddenly.

  She stumbled, and his hand came out to steady her.

  “Are you all right?”

  “Yes,” she said, then eased her elbow from his hold. Heat burned her skin where he’d touched her. Those strong fingers against her bare elbow.

  She swallowed, steeling herself against the reaction and in an attempt to give him an answer. She didn’t want to tell him about her life. Especially not her life back in Sawyersville. Not where her last name was synonymous with so many terrible things. He would never consider her an equal then.

  “I just wanted to see more of the world.” That was true.

  “So you came to Shady Fork?”

  He had her there, although she didn’t appreciate the dryness of his tone.

  “There are places much worse than Shady Fork, believe me. Not to mention the fact you live in Shady Fork, too.”

  “Good point,” he agreed easily.

  They fell silent, and she hoped that was the end of that line of questions. It wasn’t.

  “So was your hometown one of those worst places?”

  She sighed. What could she say? She had the feeling he’d know if she was lying, and in truth, why bother. She could answer this question honestly, and not have to go into detail.

  “Yes, Sawyersville was one of them.” There, answered. On to a new subject.

  “What was so bad there?”

  She stopped, the gravel crunching under her worn canvas sneakers as she spun to face him. “Do we have to talk about this?”

  “No,” he said easily, as though the topic really didn’t interest him that much.

  “Good.” She started walking again. She didn’t want to tell him about her dysfunctional family. Or the things her family was accused of— most of them true. And all the names she’d been called and the ways she’d been treated, because of their behavior. Although he already knew one of the names.

  “I didn’t intend to offend you. I just thought we might become” — he seemed to struggle for the right word— “friends.”

  She stopped again with another crunch of gravel. “You want to be friends?”

  She couldn’t be more shocked. But as she said the word back to him— friends— her heart leapt, doing a tiny, hopeful hop in her chest. She didn’t trust this man, yet she still wanted his friendship? Was she that desperate? She didn’t even have to think a second about the answer. Yes, she was. Desperate and lonely.

  Friends? That was what he’d decided he wanted last night. But now that he’d said the word out loud, it seemed almost silly. What did he know about being a friend? He hadn’t had a mortal friend in nearly two hundred years, and to be honest, he’d never had a female mortal friend, even when he was mortal himself. Sure, he’d enjoyed female company, but being friendly had always held another connotation.

  Aside from his sister, who he’d treated more like a pet, and at times a pest, what did he know about being friends with a woman? He didn’t.

  Yet he heard himself tell her, “Yes, I’d like to be friends.”

  “Why?”

  She would have to ask that.

  “I–I’d just like to get to know you better.” He did want to know her better, he realized with a little surprise.

  She frowned, and then without a word, turned and started down the embankment.

  What the hell was she doing? He followed, wondering if somehow the injury to her head was just now showing signs of damage. The moon was bright, and for the first time he noticed the narrow path winding through the tall grass. She stayed on the gravel trail, following it into a field. She stopped at an old wooden fence.

  He could sense animals nearby, farm animals obviously, but whether they were sheep or cattle, he didn’t know. He should; he was sure the two animals were easy to tell apart, but since he’d avoided all things rustic until now, he wasn’t sure.

  Jolee leaned her elbows on the weathered railing, staring out at the pasture colored in shades of gray, monotone but bright from the moonlight.

  “Jolee?” He came to stand beside her, studying her profile rather than the pastoral scene.

  “I love how you say my name,” she murmured, not looking at him.

  Her words pleased him. He didn’t quite understand why, but they did all the same. Then she glanced at him, and he could see the uncertainty in her eyes, he could sense indecision on her skin.

  “But I keep telling myself I shouldn’t.”

  “Why?”

  “I don’t want to trust you,” she said.

  She shouldn’t. He wasn’t the trustworthy sort. But greedy creature that he was, that didn’t stop him from wanting her trust.

  “Why not?”

  “What do you think of me? Honestly?”

  He frowned. What did she mean?

  She must have seen his confusion, because she added. “I mean, one minute you’re running to my rescue like a knight in shining armor. But then the next you treat me like dirt.” She didn’t sound accusatory, but rather just stating the facts.

  Those were the facts. He had done both. Although he’d never claim to be a knight in shining armor. He was far too tarnished.

  “The other night, when I was rude to you, I was having a bad…»

  “Day,” she supplied.

  “Well, it’s been considerably longer than that, but yes.”

  She looked back out at the pasture, and he could tell misgivings still warred inside her.

  “You’re right,” he said. “I am sorry to be so confusing. I confuse myself.”

  “Why?” She turned now to face him. Her eyes had lost their look of uncertainty and now contained only concern. Concern for him. He could sense the emotion in the air. A warm, stroking sensation, caressing his skin. Comforting.

  He was amazed at how she changed her feelings so quickly. She only had to believe someone else needed help, and all her self-preservation disappeared. Eventually, someone was going to really hurt her, and that was why he needed to stay close.

  “I haven’t had many friends,” he admitted. None, to be exact. “I suppose I don’t know how to react at times. But I think you could help me.”

  Hadn’t he just told himself that he needed to stay near this woman to protect her? Now he was the one asking for help. From a mortal. He waited for the rush of disdain for himself. For being weak and pitiful. But the flood never came. He only felt hopeful, and maybe a little uncertain. Again she stared out at the field, apparently considering his words.

  Some distance away, just beyond a cluster of trees, a flock of sheep came into view, all huddled together. Their white coats seemed to glow in the moonlight.

  Finally she sighed. “I just don’t know, Christian. Part of me does want to be you
r friend. Very much. But the truth is I don’t have a great track record with guys, platonic or otherwise. I’m a little gun shy at the moment.”

  “Because of friends like Mark?”

  She nodded, not making eye contact. “Among others.”

  “I’d like to think I’m not like Mark.”

  She smiled at that. “No, you definitely are not like Mark.”

  “Did you leave your hometown because of Mark?”

  “No,” she said, and for a second he thought she wasn’t going to continue.

  “We dated years ago. Nothing very serious.” She turned to face him, wrapping her arms around her midsection as if to shield herself. From a chill or from his judgment, he wasn’t sure.

  “He has always shown up every now and then, although I never expected him to come find me here. For some reason, he can’t seem to let me go. I guess because I broke up with him. He wasn’t used to being the one dumped.”

  Christian raised his eyebrow. “Please tell me that’s because he didn’t have anyone else to dump him before you.”

  Her eyes drew together and her jaw set, and he knew that he’d made a faux pas.

  “What does that mean?”

  «I…» He knew he should drop the subject right here. He wasn’t so clueless in communication that he didn’t know when he was digging a hole for himself. “I can’t imagine the type of woman who’d want him.”

  Or maybe he was.

  Her frown deepened. “Well, I dated him. What type of woman do you think I am?”

  Hole getting wider, getting deeper.

  “I think— I think you are a woman who wants more. Who can have more.”

  Her brows relaxed. “Do you?”

  Yes, he did. He realized he didn’t really know her. He didn’t know what motivated her. He didn’t have any idea what she really wanted. She owned a bar. She lived in a nearly condemned trailer park. None of which necessarily spoke of a person who was hungry to escape a difficult existence. But he knew she was searching for more.

  “Yes, I think you want more, and I don’t think there is anything wrong with that.”

  If he expected her to be pleased by his statement, he didn’t get the response he wanted.

  She sighed and gazed back out at the sheep. “I don’t know. Sometimes I think it’s impossible. That some people aren’t destined for anything better. It’s too hard and… disappointing.”

  “But it’s worth the hardship. You need dreams and goals.”

  Good God! What was he, a vampire in self-imposed purgatory, doing telling a mortal that she needed dreams and goals? He, who’d spent his entire existence focused on one goal, one dream. Lilah. Only to discover she hadn’t been worth his obsession. She hadn’t even been remotely who he’d thought she was. And he was counseling Jolee. It was quite ridiculous, really.

  She glanced over at him, then smiled, a broad smile that outshined the bright moon above her.

  Suddenly his counseling seemed a stroke of genius.

  “You’re right. I know you are. I’m just having a moment of self-pity. Ignore me.”

  There was no way to ignore her, not when she smiled like that. He forced his gaze to her eyes, dark, but sparkling in the moonshine.

  “Believe me, I’ve been known to corner the market on self-pity.”

  Her smile turned sympathetic. “Well, if you promise to ignore mine, I’ll ignore yours.”

  “Deal.”

  She smiled wider, this time in the direction of the sheep. They had moved closer. One bleated. Another answered.

  He leaned his arms on the fence, watching them with her, feeling a strange measure of peace.

  “Why did you hit Mark?” she asked suddenly.

  “I didn’t want him talking to you like that. You don’t deserve that.”

  She glanced at him, and then before he realized what she intended to do, she hugged him. Her good arm coming around his neck, her injured arm around his back.

  The hug was quick, impulsive. But her scent lingered after her touch was gone. The brief contact with her body heated his skin as he absorbed her warmth.

  Need flared. He wanted to pull her back against him and taste her heat, but he didn’t. He stepped away from her instead. She gave him a smile that said she was embarrassed by her actions. He sensed she was regretful, too.

  He started to speak, hoping that would calm his longing and her awkwardness.

  But she spoke first. “It’s very late. We should go.”

  She started back up the narrow path to the road.

  His hunger flashed as he noticed how her jeans molded to her backside and displayed her long legs. The effect of her arms around him still burned his skin. He pulled in a deep breath, willing away his yearning, his need.

  His cock hardened, almost painful against the zipper of his pants. But his fangs remained retracted, even as the hunger surged through him.

  Behind him, he heard the fretful bleating of the sheep, and felt the minute vibration of the ground as the flock fled. They sensed him now, his need making him a distinguishable predator.

  Jolee stopped at the road and waited for him.

  At one time he wouldn’t have let her walk away. When he’d wanted to feed, he’d done so, no hesitation, no remorse. He would have fed from her, satisfying himself. And he could have satisfied her, too, with his bite. Now, he couldn’t do either. He was neither a man nor a vampire.

  Now, he was just standing in a field in West Virginia, making the sheep nervous.

  CHAPTER 9

  Jolee waited at the side of the road for Christian, feeling utterly stupid. Why had she hugged him? The embrace had been an impulse, and as soon as she’d wrapped her arms around him, she realized she shouldn’t have. She liked the feeling of his hard chest against her breasts and the muscles of his shoulders under her fingertips. The brief touch had made her incredibly aware of everything about him, and she had practically ignited with desire.

  Christian had looked uncomfortable with the gesture, too, but not because he wanted her. She was sure of that. He’d said he wanted to be friends. Not have her throw herself at him.

  Although the hug was meant in no way to be a come-on. She’d just felt happy that he’d been there tonight. That he didn’t seem to believe Mark’s hateful words, and he’d felt strongly enough about her to stop them.

  A warm hum joined the lingering low burn in her belly. Having a champion was so novel to her. She could defend herself. She’d done so for years, but tonight she hadn’t had the energy for Mark’s attack. She was sore and tired and emotionally worn out. And Christian had been there.

  He started up the path. She noted the sheep, in the distance behind him. They were bleating and running in the opposite direction from them, but she didn’t give their behavior much thought. She was far more worried about what Christian was thinking than what the sheep were.

  As he approached, she couldn’t tell his thoughts. The darkness shadowed his face, but she knew bright sunlight wouldn’t have helped. She was sure his poker face was back in place.

  Neither spoke as they started down the road toward the trailer park. After a few steps, he changed positions, shifting to her other side so that he was on the outside, near the road. Being protective again, she realized. She didn’t want to lose that. Not yet.

  But still neither said a word until the silence threatened to suffocate her. She didn’t want the night to end this way. She’d had too much stress, too much angst of late to let go of something nice in her life. And Christian’s friendship would be nice. Her attraction to him was torture, but she could control that. She wouldn’t let it ruin a friendship. She needed a friend more than a lover.

  They turned into the trailer park, and she knew she had to say something. Part of her thought she should let the hugging incident go and talk about something completely different. But another part of her wasn’t listening. That part appeared to be running her mouth.

  “I hope you know that hug was only intended as a thank you.”


  “I know,” he answered, his voice low and a little husky. He didn’t look at her.

  “Because I realize you just want to be friends. And that’s what I want, too.”

  He didn’t respond, which only spurred her on like a nervous, chattering schoolgirl.

  “I wouldn’t hit on you, because I know that you don’t find me attractive and, well, I wouldn’t hit on you anyway, because I’m really not like that. So—»

  Christian stopped and caught her fingers, tugging her to face him. “I enjoyed your hug. And I know you only meant it to be a gesture of thanks.”

  Relief calmed the tightness in her chest. “I’m glad. I–I just don’t want you to think that anything Mark said was true.”

  “I don’t.”

  She smiled and suppressed the urge to hug him again. Talk about learning nothing from past mistakes. Instead she squeezed the hand that held hers.

  “Good.”

  They continued on, their hands still linked as they strolled to their places. Neither seemed in a hurry to get there.

  “Jolee.”

  “Hmm?” she responded, glancing at him.

  In the light from their trailers, she could see the strange expression on his face. His pale eyes were intense as he pulled her to a stop and searched her face, scrutinizing each of her features.

  He reached up and touched her cheek, his fingers cool against her skin. “I don’t think you are unattractive.”

  “You don’t?” She knew it was a rather inane response, but she was so distracted by his sudden touch, and what it was doing to her insides, the brief question was the best she could do.

  “I don’t,” he murmured.

  As if in slow motion, his head lowered. But not until his mouth met hers did she truly believe he was going to kiss her. She whimpered, startled by both the occurrence and how wonderful his lips felt pressed to hers, cool like his fingers but leaving fire in their wake as they moved, carefully, gently sampling her.

  The kiss wasn’t one of domination or uncontrollable passion. It was slow and gentle, even a little uncertain. But that didn’t temper her response. If anything, his tentative caresses fired her desire far more than the wildest kiss. His mouth worshipped her as if he were touching something fragile and precious. She imagined him lavishing that same considerate attention on her whole body. Her toes curled in her sneakers.