I grabbed a cup and poured some coffee for myself. I prefer my coffee black, especially nice coffee like he has, so this could be quite the treat. I sipped it and immediately spit it back out.
“Oh my God, what is this?” I said out loud. “How hard is it to make coffee?”
He may be handsome, but he’s arrogant and terrible. These two weeks can’t be over soon enough.
V.
I didn’t see Christian much over the next few days, though we live in the same house. He let me sleep in the guest room and “make it my own” (though I didn’t have anything to make it my own. All of my things were at my house.) I did jump on the bed a few times (okay, many times) to break it in, which helped quite a bit, I’d say. I also found a tablet in a drawer that helped keep me interested.
He moved around the house like a phantom - I could hear him in his room and his office, as well as see his shadow disappear into another room. Sometimes I’d catch him in the morning looking out the window, but he’d swiftly state how busy he was and rush to his office.
I think he’s avoiding me.
On the third day, I stood in the kitchen looking at Missing Persons on the tablet and leaning on the island. It gave me some solace to have a connection to the outside world. I decided to look at Missing Persons in this area to see how many girls could’ve been taken, if I knew any of them. I felt almost obsessed with it. Maybe from being left alone for days on end with little to no human interaction.
Suddenly, a noise came from the door. Probably just a bird. The doorknob started to turn. Maybe Christian went outside? Then the door opened and a cloaked figured entered. I froze, unable to scream. The figure lowered its hood to reveal a middle-aged woman with short grey hair.
“Oh, hello,” the woman smiled. “I’m Gina. You must be Veronica.”
I still couldn’t move. She didn’t seem dangerous, but she did somehow know my name. “Yeah, I am. You are?”
“Sorry, Christian’s told me all about you,” she chuckled, carrying in a bag of tupperware dishes full of food. “I’m his aunt.”
“Nice to meet you. I assume you’re his cook too?”
“Naturally! I promised my brother I’d take care of his little boy. I’m just a little late this week.”
“I was wondering if you’d actually come, but Christian kept the faith.”
“I couldn’t let him starve,” she laughed. “Can you help me carry in the meals?”
“Sure.”
I followed her outside to her car. Though I’d been in the kitchen all morning with the windows wide open as usual, I hadn’t noticed the rain. Sometimes it could rain here with the sun still in the sky.
“Wow, I haven’t been outside for so long that I didn’t even know it was raining,” I laughed.
“You must be a friend of Christian’s then. Sometimes he barely leaves,” she responded. “Especially during this time of year.”
“Oh?”
“It’s a sad time for him.”
“Why is that?”
“You should probably ask him about it,” she smiled. “As you may know, he’s a private man.”
“Yeah, I barely even see him. If I do, he rushes into his office.”
She laughed, leading me inside. “I think he’s just nervous around you. He said you’re not like other girls.”
“We’ve barely interacted.”
“Well, I guess you’ve left your mark.”
I didn’t know what to say, so I scrambled to think of something (anything) to change the subject. “You’re sure bringing a lot of food.”
“Yeah, I’m not going to be around for a while. My husband’s not well.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
“Don’t worry about it, sweetie,” she patted my arm. “Hopefully you can give him some cooking lessons if he runs out of food.”
“I’ll try.”
“Aunt Gina, you’ve finally come,” Christian’s voice came from upstairs.
She and I looked up together as he descended the stairs quickly. He wore a tight wifebeater and dress pants. I froze again, struck by his muscles shown so clearly against the tight cotton fabric. I hadn’t noticed his impeccable abs or the caliber of his “guns” (as Kevin liked to say when he’d flex to make me laugh.)
Christian slipped on a sweatshirt as he came down and somehow didn’t fall all the way down. His finesse in mastering those treacherous stairs while also putting on a sweatshirt (though unfortunately covering up his very nice muscles) made my blush spread from my face to my chest.
I felt like like all my skin must be completely red. I grabbed some of the tupperware quickly and rushed to the freezer to put them in. The cold has to make the red go down. Please, please let it go down.
“I figured I should finally bring you some food,” Gina grinned. “Especially since you have a guest.”
“It’s greatly appreciated,” he answered, sounding nicer than usual. “We are almost out of food.”
“You are going to have to learn how to cook eventually. You’re almost thirty now.”
I closed the freezer to face them. His face looked slightly red, but he didn’t falter.
“I’ll learn eventually, I’m sure. How’s Uncle Rick?”
“He’s been better. I’m bringing extra so I don’t have to come by for a while.”
He nodded. “Whatever you have to do.”
She walked forward, hugged him, and whispered something in his ear. He laughed and patted her on the back.
She hugged me as well, “Teach him to cook, huh? Someone needs to make a man of him.”
“I’ll try,” I responded. “Nice to meet you.”
“Nice to meet you as well. Be good, you two.”
I finished putting away the meals as Christian waved to Gina at the door.
“She’s nice,” I commented as he closed the door, an uncharacteristic smile on his face.
His smile immediately faded, “What are you doing going outside without me?”
“Your aunt asked me to help her carry in your food. I was just trying to be hospitable.”
He moved forward, getting in my face, “Do you understand how dangerous it is to go outside right now?”
“It’s the middle of the day. And it’s not a full moon or anything.”
“It’s raining and dreary. This is the perfect time for a hunt.”
“I think you’re being overdramatic.”
“Wanting you to be safe is overdramatic?”
“I don’t know what you expect me to do. You’ve been hiding from me for days. I would rather be home fearing for my life with a change of clothes than be here alone.”
His eyes lost their steely resolve, “Would you like to go get a change of clothes?”
“I thought the outside was too dangerous.”
He sighed, “I’ll go with you. I probably should get out of the house anyway.”
“I appreciate you trying to be nice, but I’m okay.”
“I’ll put on some shoes.”
He jogged upstairs. I frowned. I was getting some leeway on the Missing Persons site. I was starting to get through to a more recent time. I mostly just wanted to make him feel bad rather than having to do anything with him. This wasn’t a call for action. Still, having him so close to me, his face so close to mine I could’ve just leaned forward and kissed him, my stomach felt dizzy and warm. Maybe he’ll decide to wear just the wife-beater because of the humidity outside.
I slipped on my own shoes and waited for him on the couch. The sun started to be shielded by the angry grey rain clouds. The rain fell steadily, but still lightly.
“Here,” a hoodie fell into my lap. “This should keep you warm.”
I stood, “Thanks. Are we walking? We’re pretty far out in the woods.”
“It’s actually not that far. But we can certainly drive if you wish.”
I shrugged, zipping up the hoodie, “I guess I can walk.”
“Great. Let’s go.”
I followed him o
ut, putting up my hood as a shield against the rain. He didn’t wear a hoodie and seemed undaunted by the water. We walked in silence for a few minutes. I couldn’t think of anything to say, and he’s never proved himself to be incredibly talkative.
“What do your parents do?” he asked awkwardly.
“Like for work?”
“Yes.”
“Um….” Dead people normally don’t have jobs. “Nothing interesting. What is it that you do? You’re always in meetings, but I’m not sure what your business is.”
“We run a non-profit dealing with conservation and helping poverty stricken countries rebuild. We also deal in research for more economically sustainable energy. It all kind of goes hand in hand.”
“Oh, okay. I would’ve thought you did something less helpful to others. It seems like you have quite a bit of money.”
“My family has made good investments. My great-grandfather worked in oil. It kind of has built from there.”
“Wow. Good for you. My great-grandfather was a drunk who deserted the family.”
“Just because he made good investments doesn’t mean he was a great guy. He wasn’t home much. Didn’t give my grandfather a great example to follow.”
“What about your dad?”
“He and my stepmom retired to Florida a few years ago. My mom left when I was a teenager.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
He shrugged, his collared shirt starting to become translucent from the water. “I’d probably leave too. She couldn’t handle the war with the werewolves. Plus, when my…” he paused. “It doesn’t matter. Where do you live?”
“I live on 5th and Hazel.”
“Oh, okay. That’s not too far from here.”
“Yep.”
He chuckled, “I’m sorry I’m not much of a conversationalist.”
“It’s okay,” I replied, giving him a slight smile and attempting not to admire his muscles through his shirt (or at least not so much that he’d notice.) “Usually pretty people are meant to be seen, not heard.”
He laughed, his smile lighting up his normally sullen face. “Well, you’re very pretty, and I love to hear you talk. You sure know how to put a guy in his place.”
“I try,” I replied, feeling the blush reappear. “Are you saying I’m pretty?”
“Well, the wolves wouldn’t have been after you if you weren’t pretty.”
That sounds like a cop-out. “I thought they were after my virginity.”
He shrugged. Our conversation hit another standstill. Every so often, our hands would just barely touch. We’d both chuckle awkwardly, but say nothing. Part of me wanted to grasp his hand at one of these points, say I was scared and needed his human touch, but it’s not worth it. His cold, reserved act makes me feel bad for my faint attraction toward him.
We walked up to my empty house, it looking the same as usual. I guess it didn’t miss me.
“Are your parents home?” he asked. “They may want to meet me.”
“No,” I responded. “Do you want to just wait outside?”
“I’ll come in with you.”
“Okay. It’s kind of messy.”
We walked in together. I felt instantly self-conscious with him seeing the state in which I live, but I just moved quickly to gather some things. He stayed in the living room, looking over the family pictures over the fireplace.
“Is this your brother?” he asked as I finished by grabbing some books out of my small bookshelf.
“Yeah.”
“Does he live here too?”
“No.”
“Is he still in town?”
I sighed, “I’m ready to go. Let’s not talk about my family right now.”
He narrowed his eyes, but didn’t say anything. We walked outside together, the rain now letting up and barely dripping.
“Maybe we should drive back,” I said. “I feel like it’s starting to get dark.”
“I think we’ll be fine,” he answered. “The werewolves aren’t powerful enough to attack when I’m around.”
“Veronica?” a male voice came from the end of the driveway.
I closed my eyes, hoping I’m actually asleep and dreaming. I pinched myself, but the pain proved hoping is always worthless. I opened my eyes to see Stevie at the end of the driveway.
Great. “Hey Stevie. How’s it going?”
“I’m all right. How is your ankle?”
Oh crap. “I can stand on it, but not for long. I was testing it out.”
“Right. It’s okay if you want to skip out on work for a while. It doesn’t really matter.” He walked forward and held out his hand for a shake. “Hello, I’m Stevie.”
“Christian,” Christian bristled. I sensed some jealousy coming from him, though Stevie didn’t match the sentiment. He did seem worried and weird though - more than usual anyway.
“Nice to meet you. Um… can I talk to you for a second, Veronica?”
“Sure. What’s up?”
“Well uh…” he moved forward to pull me aside and whispered, “I was thinking about Beth. I think... I don’t think she ran away with someone. I think someone took her.”
“Stevie, I don’t think it’s worth…”
“I think my dad should’ve reported her missing, you know? Your dad would’ve reported you missing if that happened.”
“Maybe,” I sighed. He looked lost, so I awkwardly patted his back. “Stevie, maybe it’s better to assume she ran off with someone and is okay, rather than thinking she got taken and isn’t.”
“Do you think she’s dead?”
Probably. “I don’t know.”
He wrapped me up in a hug, which made me feel incredibly uncomfortable. I patted him on the back again, not sure what I should do if he started to cry.
“We should probably get going. It is starting to get dark,” Christian interrupted us. “I think driving is a good idea.”
“Oh, sorry,” Stevie pulled away, wiping his eyes. “I can give you guys a ride, if you want.”
“It’s okay. Veronica said she could drive.”
“I thought you didn’t like to drive your mom’s car.”
Can this misery just end? “It will be okay. Don’t worry about it.”
Stevie shrugged, “Well, maybe you can give me a call later or something. It’d be nice to talk.”
I nodded and waved as he got into his truck to go. Christian’s scowl looked even more prominent than usual, and he puffed his chest as if threatened. I don’t think this is even close to something I want to be involved in. I can’t understand why Christian would act jealous.
“Well, let’s get going then,” I ushered him to my mother’s Subaru, which, truthfully, I don’t like to drive. It still smells like her, and all of us didn’t want to open the doors too often for risk we’d lose that. Kevin and I used to admit it was crazy, but we both still held on to the notion.
“What was that about?” Christian asked.
I shrugged, “Stevie’s just an old friend. His sister and I were close in high school.”
“What about your mom’s car?”
We both got in, and I sucked in her scent. It’s definitely faded after all these years, but I could still smell it. “She can’t drive anymore, so I try not to um… you know… make her feel bad.”
He grunted and stared out the window. I wrapped my hands around the steering wheel, matched my fingers to the traces of my mother’s etched in the rough vinyl. I drove slowly, asking Christian every so often where I should turn. The previously drizzling rain now started to pour. I thought to comment it was lucky we didn’t walk home, but he didn’t seem into it. When we arrived, he got out immediately and stomped to the door. I stayed inside for a moment, thinking of Mom and Dad and Kevin.
At this point, it doesn’t matter if Christian knows that they’re gone. I’m not afraid he’ll hurt me (though I’m not sure I was before. I think I just wanted to give the impression that someone out there cared about me.) But it made me feel better to
pretend they were back there at the house. I sighed, taking in the scent again and went inside quickly.
Christian stood outside in the rain with just his wife-beater on and the slacks. I took off the hoodie and put on a light dress Mom bought for me before she went into the hospital. I walked outside to stand with him out on the porch.
“You changed,” he said, looking me up and down as we stood there together.
“This is my favorite dress,” I replied.
He nodded. I closed my eyes and let the water drench me. I felt his eyes on me like a caress on my skin. Our hands brushed as they had when we walked together, but this time, his fingers hooked with mine. He didn’t quite take my hand, but the intimacy was still there.
I liked the way his long fingers felt as they gently protected mine.
VI.
That night I dreamt of Mom telling me I’d catch a cold from standing in the rain. Kevin sat on the couch making funny faces at me while Dad stood outside with Christian barbecuing.
“It’s nice your own reincarnation of Marlon Brando is letting us stay at this beautiful house,” she said, sitting next to me on the couch, “but don’t you think he’s a little emotionally unavailable.”
“Come on, Mom. He’s out there barbecuing with Dad,” Kevin replied.
“Yeah, and have you asked the boy about his sister? He sure doesn’t want to mention it.”
“His sister?” I looked into Mom’s eyes. “What do you mean?”
“You’re going to get a cold from the rain, sweetheart,” she answered. “You’re going to catch a cold.”
I woke up earlier than I usually do. I didn’t hear Christian moving around yet. I grabbed the tablet and started looking at the Missing Persons, hoping it would lull me back to sleep. The faces started to get more familiar, but still were older than Beth. Some of them I vaguely remembered from old posters hung on the bulletin board in the local market.
Romance: Stranded With The Alpha Bear: BBW Paranormal Shapeshifter Romance (Werebear, BBW, Bear Shifter Romance) (Sweet Shifters Book 1) Page 3
