Vampire Romance Series - Coffee And Vampires 1-7 (Vampire Romance Bundle)

by S L Hartley

  It really wasn’t too bad as far as curses went, Page mused. Involuntary transformations after puberty were supposedly very rare, and Van had learned to control himself in wolf form unusually quickly. He’d even been allowed to tell her what was going on. She wouldn’t have believed him if his parents hadn’t reassured her that he was telling the truth, and even then might have remained dubious if he hadn’t chained himself to a tree in his backyard and transformed right in front of her.

  They had even tried dating for a couple of years after graduation, until Van received a summons from relatives living several states away. There had been a lot of arguing, and eventually he simply left. Aside from a few sporadic and occasionally cryptic letters, Page hadn’t heard from him since.

  A small, angry sound from Van brought Page back to the present. “I can’t believe you just let him inside.”

  “Who?” Page asked.

  “The vampire, of course.”

  Page burst out laughing. Van simply looked irritated.

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” Page managed. “It was light out when he brought me home. And he’s a nurse.”

  “Whatever,” Van muttered. “I know what I smell.”

  He softened suddenly, and moved closer to Page on the couch. “I’ve missed you,” he said quietly, putting an arm around her shoulders. “And I worry about you. I’m sorry.”

  Page let him hold her, closing her eyes and letting the memories close in.

  It had been a long day, and Page didn’t have the energy to argue with Van right now – to tell him why he shouldn’t be here or that she’d moved on. Or to explain why Nicholas, that sweet and awkward man, couldn’t possibly be a bloodsucking creature of the night.

  She could tell him tomorrow. For now, it was a relief to feel a familiar body near hers, and she let Van hold her until she fell asleep.

  ****

  Chapter 2

  Convincing Donovan that she didn’t really want him staying in her apartment had been easier than Page had dared hope.

  “I understand. You need your space,” he’d said. Still, he admonished her one last time to be cautious around the stranger who was surely a vampire before heading out. Page had a feeling she’d be seeing Van again, though. He’d never been the sort to give up easily. Plus he’d always had a strong protective streak, even before becoming a werewolf, and that apparently hadn’t changed.

  Like a loyal dog, Page thought, stifling a giggle. Calling Van a “dog” or even a “puppy” had been an easy way to annoy him back in high school.

  “You’re cheery today,” Janine remarked. Page realized belatedly that she’d been humming while steaming milk.

  Page grinned cheekily as she poured the next drink. “Things are just going well, I guess!”

  Janine raised an eyebrow. “No, no. There’s something.”

  The bells hung over the front door jingled, and Page jerked her head toward the sound. She was disappointed, though, when the new customers turned out to be only a couple high school students stopping in after school.

  Janine wasn’t about to let her off the hook, either. “You’re wearing your favorite black skinny jeans and heels, and it looks like you finally tried that lipstick I gave you. That’s more than just high spirits.” The blond, short woman stroked her chin melodramatically as she continued. “And you’ve been jumping every time the door’s opened for the past half-hour.” She gasped and clapped one hand to her chest before pointing an accusing finger toward Page. “You’ve got a date!”

  Page rolled her eyes at the theatrics. “Guilty as charged.” She handed Janine the now-completed hazelnut latte. “Now could you get this where it belongs?”

  The head injury had been a small stroke of luck, honestly. Just a few days ago, Page had been having one of the worst days she could imagine, culminating with a nasty fall on the café’s tile floor. Fortuitously, one of the regulars decided to help her out. His name was Nicholas, and he’d not only gotten her home but also left her his phone number. Van had arrived at her apartment shortly after Nicholas left and almost immediately made the ridiculous accusation that the tall, thin nurse was really a vampire. Donovan hadn’t even seen Nicholas and was basing the whole thing on smell.

  It was utterly absurd. Even Van had to admit that vampires couldn’t walk around during the day, which Page had seen Nicholas doing plenty of times. Besides, whoever heard of a vampire needing glasses to see clearly?

  Nicholas had been polite and charming over the phone the following day, and asked graciously if he could be allowed to surprise Page with the evening’s activities. He’d phrased it almost exactly like that, too.

  And now it was Friday, and Nicholas would be meeting Page at the end of her shift. She idly wondered if he’d be getting his afternoon coffee elsewhere before picking her up. As the clock approached and then passed four-thirty, this seemed to be the case. Page tried not to act disappointed or nervous; her shift was over at six, and Nicholas would arrive then. Probably exactly on time, too. He seemed like that sort.

  Page was right. Nicholas walked into the café while she was clocking out in back. She returned to the counter to find Nicholas waiting for her. He extended an arm, which Page took, trying to look nonchalant about it. She glanced back at Janine, who gave her a covert thumbs-up.

  “My car’s in the lot down the block,” Nicholas explained as they walked. “Though we won’t be going far. I assume you’re up for dinner?”

  Page nodded, trying not to babble with excitement. Nicholas was as attractive as she remembered. He was dressed down a little, having eschewed his usual dark suit for a pair of dark brown trousers, button-down shirt, and a sleek dark grey wool peacoat. His dark curly hair seemed to have resisted styling as usual, and his blue eyes were bright behind his thick rimmed glasses.

  “Where are we going?” Page asked.

  Nicholas smiled. “You’ll see.” He pulled out a set of car keys and unlocked a very clean blue VW Bug.

  Page stared at the car for a few moments without getting inside. Nicholas raised his eyebrows.

  “Your car,” Page said finally, “is adorable.”

  Nicholas’s smile turned a bit sheepish. “I’m tall, and I wanted something with good fuel economy that still had headroom.”

  Page waved him off and climbed inside. “I love these cars. My dad used to have one.”

  Nicholas proved to be a very cautious driver, one who hesitated just a shade longer than necessary at intersections. “I don’t usually have passengers,” he explained a bit nervously. “I live alone and usually walk everywhere.”

  They eventually pulled into a parking spot in front of a small shop on the outskirts of an older area of town. Page didn’t know the neighborhood very well but recognized it by its uneven brick streets. Most of the buildings were from the 1940s or earlier, many with tacked-on additions or obviously recently renovated roofs.

  The shop in question looked like it had once been a small cottage. A hand-painted green sign hung over the door said, simply, COFFEE.

  “A café?” Page asked.

  Nicholas nodded. “It’s very different from where you work, and I know you love coffee. The food’s supposed to be great, too.”

  Page let Nicholas help her out of the car. She was indeed wearing heels, though they were fairly serviceable ones with only one-and-a-half inches of lift. Still, it would hardly do to fall over again, and she was glad of the excuse to hold Nicholas’s arm as they walked into the café.

  Inside it was lit with a series of electric lights made to look like lanterns. About a third of them had purple-tinted glass, which gave a faint colored cast over everything in the café without making it overly dark. The floors were bare hardwood, and all the furniture seemed to be mismatched, from the purple and green overstuffed armchairs near the windows to the wooden chairs placed at the variously styled tables. Most of the seats were already taken, and nearly everyone seemed to be simply nursing a cup of coffee, though Page could see a handful of loaded plates
scattered throughout the room, too. The smell of roasting coffee beans was overpowering.

  Nicholas squeezed her arm. “It’s nice, isn’t it?” Page looked up at him. The expectation on his face was clear in the hopeful half-smile and his widened eyes.

  “It’s great!” Page said, and was a little surprised to find that she meant it. The lopsided décor gave the house-turned-café a decidedly homey edge, as opposed to the perfectly coordinated look of her own workplace. Besides, the coffee smelled amazing.

  Nicholas guided her to the counter near the back of the café. Two blackboards – though one was actually green – hung on the wall above it, listing the drink specials as well as the food menu.

  “What’s good here?” Page asked curiously.

  Nicholas chewed his lip. “Well,” he said slowly. “I usually get the cappuccino, though their house brew is fantastic, too. They have some iced drinks that are good as well, but—” He caught a look at Page, who was once again struggling not to laugh. “You meant the food, didn’t you?” Page nodded. Nicholas shrugged. “I’ve never actually eaten here. I’ve got kind of a sensitive stomach and have been on a liquid diet for years.”

  “Oh, geez. Sorry for laughing at you,” Page said, flushing a little.

  Nicholas waved off her apology. “It’s nothing to worry about. I can still drink coffee, after all, so I’ve been happy.” He paused. “The chef came here from Italy maybe twenty years ago, so you should try one of the Italian dishes.”

  Page had already noted the handful of Italian items on the menu, such as the caprese salad and even a few pasta dishes. Wanting to seem a little adventurous, she settled on the fettuccine with artichokes and prosciutto, plus a cup of coffee. Pasta and coffee seemed like a bit of an odd combination, but she wasn’t about to pass up a chance to try a new brew. She and Nicholas gave their orders to the cashier, a startlingly pretty boy with very dark skin who looked like he was still a teenager. He smiled at Page as she ordered, flashing brilliantly white teeth.

  “That’s one of our chef’s signature dishes,” he said liltingly. “You’ll be certain to love it. We’ll have everything out to presently, Nicholas.”

  Nicholas thanked him, paid, and led Page over to a table nestled into an alcove with a single narrow window. It was on the east side of the building and the sun was already beginning to set, so outside Page could just barely make out the first few stars.

  “You’re a regular here, too?” Page asked.

  Nicholas raised his eyebrows. “What gave you that idea?” There was a vague hint of a smile playing around the corners of his mouth, and Page had a feeling that he was teasing her a little.

  “Aside from the cashier knowing your name,” Page began, “you literally ordered your ‘usual.’”

  Nicholas laughed softly and nodded. “I’m here a lot. They’re open twenty-four/seven, and I frequently have trouble sleeping at night. It’s surprisingly busy in here around three am or so.”

  “Do you take a lot of evening shifts at the hospital?” Page inquired.

  Nicholas thought for a moment, then made a rocking motion with his left hand. “I take shifts on different rotations. One week I might be working from five pm until one-thirty, and on another from six in the morning until two in the afternoon. I try to take shifts no one else would really want.”

  Page tilted her head inquiringly.

  “Well, I don’t have a family to worry about spending time with,” Nicholas explained. “While many of the other nurses have husbands, wives, children. Plus I’m an insomniac anyway, so it’s not like taking strange shifts is going to ruin my daily rhythm.”

  “That’s considerate of you.” The cashier from before came by then with their two drinks, setting them down before them with another toothy smile before wordlessly returning to the counter. Page took a careful sip from her steaming mug and felt her face light up a little.

  “It’s good, isn’t it?” Nicholas asked, sipping from his own.

  Page nodded, relishing the taste over her tongue. The coffee was rich without being harsh or acidic, with a dark, almost fruity aftertaste. “It’s very good,” she said. “Thank you.”

  The date proceeded smoothly. Nicholas managed to explain his own background while also showing avid curiosity about Page herself. It was almost dizzying. Nicholas told Page, over the delicious pasta, that he decided to become a nurse back when he was in high school. A car accident left his grandparents, who’d been raising him, dead. He spent six months in a hospital himself, most of his body covered in bandages, and had needed to re-learn how to walk over a year of physical therapy.

  “I wanted to give up,” he said. “And the doctors could tell me why I shouldn’t, that I’d never walk normally if I did. The nurses helped me realize why I wanted to move again, though.”

  Among other complications, he’d required several surgeries to repair damage done to his abdomen, thus the strict liquid diet. Once released from the hospital, Nicholas finished high school a year late while staying in a local foster home, and worked his way through nursing school. “My work is kind of my life now,” he said with a rueful laugh.

  Page filled in her own story when prompted. Though she’d lived with both parents, her father died during her freshman year of high school. “It was always hard to talk to Mom after that,” Page remembered. “She was always just so sad all the time, sometimes not leaving her room for two or three days. And it’s awful but I kind of hated her for it. We’re still not close. I haven’t even seen her since last Thanksgiving.” Graduating high school had been a huge relief, a chance to move away from the oppressive atmosphere which infused her childhood home, and she’d moved in with Donovan. The two worked whatever jobs they could find to pay for their tiny bare-bones apartment. Page cautiously skimmed over her and Van’s relationship, though she could tell Nicholas was intrigued by her mention of him.

  “He left after a couple years to live with some family out of state,” she finished. “And I throw myself into my work at the café. I love it, really, getting to work with people and coffee every day.” She shrugged. “Not as noble as what you do, I guess.”

  “I’m hardly noble,” Nicholas said. “The other day I nearly threw a bedpan at someone.”

  Page choked on her coffee. “What’d they do?”

  “Told me to get a real man’s job.”

  Page stared at Nicholas’s face in shock for a few moments, then the two simultaneously burst out laughing.

  “You liked the food?” Nicholas asked, once they’d calmed down.

  The pasta had been as close to perfect as Page could imagine. “Loved it,” she said.

  “I don’t suppose you’d be willing to try a dessert for me?” Nicholas asked, his expression so ludicrously wistful that Page nearly lost it again. “The chef apparently makes a fantastic tiramisu. I’ve never been able to try it, though. Would you?”

  “I suppose,” Page said, affecting reluctance. Nicholas grinned like a happy child and nearly bounced out of his seat on his way back to the cashier.

  The tiramisu had been portioned for one person, which turned out to be a blessing as it was ridiculously rich. The custard-like filling was so thick Page could nearly stand her spoon in it, while the coffee-soaked pieces of cake still managed to be light enough to melt in her mouth.

  “It’s good?” Nicholas asked curiously, watching her eat.

  Mouth full, Page nodded. She swallowed and added, “Tiramisu is one of my favorites, and this is by far the best I’ve ever had.”

  She lingered over the dessert and another cup of coffee, and the two of them continued to talk over many refills. Page didn’t notice the pasPage of time until she found herself yawning mid-cup.

  “Forgive me!” Nicholas exclaimed suddenly, glancing at his watch. “It’s past midnight. I should get you home.”

  With that, Nicholas and Page quickly returned to the car, continuing to chat idly during the drive to Page’s apartment. Nicholas parked on the street and once again helped
Page out of the car.

  “Shall I walk you up?” he asked.

  “Please,” Page said.

  The two walked up the stairs in companionable silence, Nicholas taking Page’s unprotesting hand after they’d entered the front door. Page felt as though her entire being were focused upon those sections of her body which were interlocked with his. Though it was late, she felt strangely exhilarated. They both hesitated for a long moment at her apartment door.

  “I very much enjoyed tonight,” Nicholas said, steadily holding her gaze. He squeezed her hand gently.

  Page couldn’t take it anymore. She reached up and cupped the side of his face, guiding him down into a first kiss.

  He was still at first, frozen as though terrified, but the pressure of Page’s lips on his seemed to warm him. He leaned into the kiss, lips parted, and for the briefest of moments their tongues flickered together.

  Page finally withdrew and their eyes locked again.

  “I’d like to see you again,” Page said. Nicholas nodded firmly. “I’ll call you?” she offered.

  “It’s my turn,” Nicholas said. “You called me last time.”

  Page had turned around and begun unlocking her door when Nicholas laid a cool hand on her shoulder.

  “Someone’s inside,” he said, his gaze strangely fixed. “Don’t you live alone?”

  Page’s mouth went dry. “I do. But the door’s locked. . . . How can you tell?”

  “Heard something moving,” Nicholas said distractedly. “Could be nothing. Probably nothing.”

  Page opened the door, heart pounding, fervently glad for the reassuring pressure of Nicholas’s hand on her shoulder.

  The lights were on, and Page was certain that she’d turned them off before she left. Moreover, Donovan was lounging comfortably on the folded futon she used as a couch.

  Page went from terrified to furious in seconds. “How did you even get in here?” she demanded, stepping inside.