She Wolf and The Detective: (Suspense, Crime, Thriller, Mystery, Fantasy) (Book 1-3)
Page 27
Andrew snorted. “Right, I’ll try my best,” he said, waving goodbye as he walked out the door, jogging up to his car with an anxious buzz running through his veins at his fast approaching date.
Faith had sent him an address, and he had, of course, googled the location in the hope of gleaning some sort of idea about what they would be doing, only to come up with nothing.
He couldn’t help laughing at the time, knowing that Faith had likely done that intentionally. But now, as he was heading to the address, he couldn’t quite help the nervous tapping of his fingers on the steering wheel as his mind raced through all the possibilities.
Was he overdressed? Was he underdressed? He wore a simple pair of tan corduroy pants and a pastel-colored plaid shirt that may have shown off his biceps just a little bit. But still, was that the appropriate attire for the evening? What if it was some secret underground ballroom dancing club, or a paintball party? If it was the latter, he didn’t know how thrilled he would be about it; he really liked his shirt.
Should he have used that new shampoo that smelled like strawberries that Leo had recommended? Was he wearing too much cologne?
He sighed in relief as he realized that he wasn’t wearing any cologne. His eyes widened. Should he be wearing cologne? Did he smell?
He sniffed the air, noting that nothing smelled bad, but still worried. He lifted up his arm, giving his underarm a good whiff and only coming up with the woodsy scent of his deodorant.
But still, what was the term all those candle and air freshener commercials used? Nose blind? Had he gone nose blind to his own scent?
Andrew shook his head, hard, forcing himself to relax. He rolled his shoulders and took a deep breath. He was being silly. At the very least, if he smelled foul, someone in his pack would have likely made a passing comment on him needing a shower before he’d left. And, even if he did smell, he was a man. He would have the manly smell of the woods and sweat from hard work.
He sat up straighter in his seat, nodding to himself, a smirk in place. He could do this; he was an Alpha for goodness’ sake. He’d fought and conquered far bigger challenges than a mere date of all things. And this was just that, a challenge. And he would take it on with his head held high.
Twenty minutes later he pulled up to what looked like an abandoned factory or warehouse. Just like the picture of it when he’d looked up the address, it had no signs or other indicators that would clue him into what was inside.
He parked in the small parking lot, noting a small smattering of other cars in the lot before turning his car off and getting out.
As soon as he had shut the door behind him, Faith’s car came pulling up beside him. He blinked, taking it in. For some reason, he found it fitting that she drove a tall, yellow Jeep.
After a minute she hopped out of the car, coming to stand beside Andrew with a small smile lighting up her face. Andrew’s eyes scanned over her, hoping to glean some information from her outfit. Much to his disappointment, she looked fairly ready for anything in a green romper and black canvas shoes, sunglasses propped atop her head, her long dark hair tousled and flowing without a care down her shoulders. Well, at least he wasn’t overdressed, he thought to himself.
“Right on time,” she smiled, eyes scanning him briefly, so brief, in fact, that if he hadn’t been a werewolf he wouldn’t have caught it. He smirked, apparently she liked what she saw.
Faith rolled her eyes at his smirk, motioning over to the plain looking metal building that appeared to be rusting. “Come on, I think you’re going to have some fun here.”
“Still not planning on telling me what we’re doing here?” Andrew asked, smiling as Faith unconsciously took his hand and began leading him towards the building.
“You’ll find out soon enough,” she said lightly, opening the heavy metal door to the front of the building and motioning for Andrew to go in ahead of her, curtseying jauntily as she did so.
“Well,” Andrew said skeptically as they walked inside, taking a look at the empty concrete floor and the flickering luminescent lights above him. The room was completely devoid of people, devoid of any life really, as was made evident from what appeared to be months’ worth of piling dust that clung to the corners of the room and coated the floor, puffing up in little floating colonies with each step they took. “This place looks fun.”
“Oh, don’t be so boring; of course this isn’t it,” Faith said, shaking her head. “We need to go up.”
Andrew looked to her curiously before she rolled her eyes, pointing across the room at a small, innocuous looking elevator across the room.
Curiosity now even further peaked, Andrew followed her over to it. Their feet sent what sounded like loud echoes in the quiet, still room as they walked.
“This is all rather cryptic,” Andrew said quietly, as if fearing that they would be overheard. “An empty building, no one in sight; rather a bit reminiscent of American Psycho, isn’t it?”
“I wouldn’t know,” Faith said, pushing the only button on the panel beside the elevator door and waiting patiently. “I’m not really one for horror movies; I don’t understand why anyone would electively choose to scare themselves or potentially give themselves nightmares.”
“Really, you don’t like horror movies?” Andrew said, surprised.
“Why do you sound so shocked?” Faith chuckled.
“I dunno,” Andrew murmured, “You just strike me as the horror movie-viewing type for some reason.”
“It’s the dark hair, isn’t it?” Faith laughed. “It’s natural you know? But, yeah, I just don’t have the desire to scare myself.”
“Well, it’s your loss. I’ll hold your hand if you ever decide to give them a chance.”
Faith smiled, looking down but unable to hide the light dusting of pink that came to her cheeks as the blood rushed there.
“Thank you,” she said, the elevator dinging as it finally arrived on their floor, “I’ll be sure to take that in consideration. But you know, you hardly need the ruse of a horror movie to hold my hand.” She grinned, walking into the elevator with a smiling Andrew following her.
The elevator felt rickety, loud squeaks issuing from the metal container as they stepped into it and Andrew pursed his lips in a moment of nervousness.
“Oh, don’t worry, I come here every week; it's never broken down on me before.”
“Every week huh?” Andrew asked, “You must really enjoy, well, whatever we’re going to do. Do you take all your dates here?”
“You’re actually the first,” Faith said, “my friend actually suggested I bring you.”
“So, do you have a lot of dates then, and I’m just special?”
Faith chuckled at his very obvious attempt to find out about her dating habits.
“Very subtle,” she chuckled, “And, for your information, I haven’t been on a date in about a year.”
“A year, that’s a bit of a gap, a bad experience?” Andrew asked, watching the needle on the top of the elevator move through the numbers, slowly approaching twenty.
“Not exactly,” Faith laughed, “I was tired of dating boys.”
“Oh?” Andrew raised an eyebrow in interest.
Faith rolled her eyes, staring at him. “I was tired of dating boys; I want to date men. Think you’re up to the challenge?”
“I sure hope so,” Andrew said, now feeling a certain amount of pressure that hadn’t been there moments earlier.
The elevator door dinged as they reached their floor. “Don’t disappoint me,” Faith said, smirking at him.
As soon as the door opened fully, Andrew’s olfactory sense was hit with an onslaught of spices and sweet scents. The room was filled with the sounds of people chatting and Andrew heard the sound of an over timer going off.
“Are we at, a restaurant?”
“Of sorts,” Faith grinned, stepping out of the lift and immediately being pulled into a warm hug by a short, elderly woman with full, grey hair pulled back into a neat bun. She wore a
red dress with a pink and white checkered apron over it. She kissed Faith once on each cheek, with Faith responding in kind.
Andrew looked around. The room was a giant, open space with no walls or curtains separating any of the action going on. And there was quite a bit of action going on.
On one side of the room was a row of about twelve small kitchen sets, each with their own stove, oven, sink, and counter and cabinet combination.
On the opposite side of the room were a series of nicely arranged tables, each with fine china and wine glasses on top of them, a crimson table cloth resting beneath them.
“So, you’re a bit late so you don’t have too many options, but I’m thrilled that you’ve brought someone new; who might this be then?” the older woman asked.
“This is Andrew,” Faith said, not caring to elaborate as she introduced him, “and this is Matilda; she owns this place.”
“And what is this place?” Andrew asked. “I mean, it is rather nice,” he added, shaking Matilda’s hand.
“This, my new friend, is my baby,” Matilda said, gesturing grandly at the room, a proud smile on her face. “It’s also a haven for people who like both cooking good food, and eating it. You see, we don’t hire chefs here, but they all come. And I have a feeling that I’m looking at two very excellent ones right now.”
“Who, me?” Andrew asked, to which Matilda nodded. “Oh no, I’m not really good at cooking,” he said nervously.
“Well, if you don’t cook you don’t eat here. And I’m sure you’ll do fine love.” Matilda smiled, pinching one of his cheeks. “You two can make fish or pasta,” she said, “Faith here can explain how it works to you, and, most importantly, have fun.”
“Isn’t she great?” Faith grinned.
“So, what exactly will we be doing?” Andrew asked curiously as he followed her over to a coat rack that held at least a half dozen aprons.
Andrew good-naturedly took and put on the hot pink apron that Faith handed him while she took a blue apron for herself.
“It’s kind of like a cooking class,” Faith explained, leading him over to one of the two empty kitchenettes. “We get to pick the meal out of the ones on the menu, go to the kitchen that has all the ingredients, and make it ourselves. Then we eat it over there at the tables,” she said, pointing across the room. “Kind of like a do-it-yourself restaurant.”
“How’d you find this place?” Andrew asked as Faith detached the Velcro that stuck the laminated menu to the cabinet, setting the menu on the countertop.
“By sheer chance really, –help me with the ingredients?-I was walking one day and I smelled something delicious, but there were no restaurants in sight,” Faith explained as she and Andrew began unloading the ingredients from the counter and mini fridge. “So, I followed the scent up to this old building and, against my better judgement, I came in and took the lift up and, voila, I found this place.”
“You know,” Andrew said, as Faith handed him a red bell pepper and a paring knife, motioning for him to begin chopping, “for someone who doesn’t like horror movies, you took a pretty big risk in a horror movie-esque fashion going into a seemingly old and abandoned building all by your little lonesome.”
Faith snorted. “My little lonesome? Did you seriously just say that?” Faith chuckled. “My God, you sound like an overconfident cowboy in an old western movie.”
“That’s my goal.” Andrew winked, scooting the peppers off the cutting board and into the pan. “Hand me the olive oil will you?”
“You’re liking this,” Faith said in a sing-song voice, referring to Andrew’s small smile, “I bet you have your own little professional chef buried down deep inside somewhere.”
Andrew laughed. “Perhaps; I think he and the cowboy get together for drinks sometimes, that’s a real show, you’ll have to see it sometime. Or maybe they’re really just one person, you know, like the cowboy has an alter ego, kind of like superman, or batman.”
“So you’re comparing yourself to a superhero now?”
“I mean, if you’d like I guess I can say I’m more like Hannah Montana, plain old high school girl by day, blonde wig-wearing superstar by night.”
“You’re ridiculous.” Faith laughed, pulling out another pan and setting the thawed chicken in it, covering it in crushed red peppers and olive oil before turning on the heat.
“Yes, but I find it to be one of the more loveable characteristics about me; I think you’ll come to love it yourself.”
“Who says I haven’t yet?” Faith smirked, glancing at a stunned Andrew out of the corner of her eye. She shook her head, smile firmly in place. “Start straining the pasta please.”
“Of course m’lady,” Andrew joked, getting out the strainer and dumping the now perfectly-cooked pasta into it.
“So, do you really come here that often?”
“Not as often as I’d like. It’s great cooking nice meals, but it costs quite a bit of time and money to go out to the supermarket and buy the ingredients that I would need. This place keeps them handy and perfectly measured out for me. And, as an added bonus, the meals are all delightfully low in calories.”
“Excellent,” Andrew laughed, “this place really is amazing,” he said, dumping the now strained pasta into the baking dish and coating it in the red wine sauce before handing it over to Faith to mix the now cut and seasoned grilled chicken into it. “I didn’t know what to expect, but it really is great.”
“I’m glad you like it,” Faith said, a genuine smile on her face. “It’s quite hard, you know.”
“What is?” Andrew asked, taking a sip of the wine, noting the disapproving but good humored look from Matilda across the room before putting it down, deciding that the taste wasn’t all that good to begin with.
“Trying to find the perfect place to take an Alpha on a date. I worried that you would prefer ballroom dancing. Or, perhaps your inner cowboy classical chef would have preferred some nice line dancing.”
“Please, don’t think of me as an Alpha. I’m just, an ordinary cowboy with an inner lust for the culinary arts that I’ve only just now realized. If it helps, you can call me Rex.”
“Rex?”
“Yes, it’s highly reminiscent of the West don’t you think?”
“Eh, I was thinking something more along the lines of Jethro.”
“Jethro, as in the grey-haired man that my pack members obsess over from NCIS?”
The corner of her mouth quirked up in a tiny smirk. “I have to say that I’m surprised that you managed to get the reference at all. You don’t particularly seem like the television watching sort.”
“Not often, although, I have to admit that I am fairly keen on watching Full House reruns at three in the morning. But that’s usually the result of insomnia. And my recurring desire to see what new banter occurs between Uncle Jesse and Joey and what Mary-Kate and Ashley were like before they grew up.”
“That’s delightfully unexpected,” Faith said, opening the oven to check on their dish as Andrew leaned up against the counter, taking a not-so-covert look at her backside.
“Do you like what you see?” Faith murmured quietly, humming in contentment as she noted that the dish was cooking at the correct pace.
Andrew flushed. “If I say yes, very much so, will I get slapped?”
“You might,” Faith said, standing, “but then again, you might actually like it. Kinky, very kinky, but honestly, I can’t say that I’m entirely surprised.”
Andrew spluttered. “That’s not . . . I’m not . . . I don’t.”
Faith chuckled, pinching his cheek. “You are entirely adorable.”
Andrew pouted, giving her puppy-dog eyes. “I’m not adorable; I’m a man, a big, burly man that is not cute but entirely masculine.”
“Mhmm,” Faith said, laughing at him. “I’m sure you are,” she placated, patting him soothingly on the back and rubbing his shoulder.
Andrew pouted. “I am.”
“I believe you.”
Andr
ew pouted further.
“Oh, you’re being ridiculous you big baby. Make yourself useful and take the pan out of the oven.”
“You know, I could take this out with my bare hands and not even flinch.”
Faith gave him a deadpan look, rolling her eyes at him. “For the record, I could as well if I concentrated. Now, please take it out.”
Giving her one last puppy-dog-eyed look, he begrudgingly took the pair of oven mitts hanging next to the oven and put them on, opening the oven and taking the dish out before setting it on the stovetop.
“Thank you,” Faith said smugly, leaning over to give him a quick kiss on the cheek, making him feel oddly warm inside. “Now, it says we’re supposed to wait ten to fifteen minutes for it to cool off but, we could probably eat it sooner.”
“So, what, we just take it over to one of the tables and eat?”
“Yep, after it cools. We can’t have it burning a hole in the tablecloth. But, in about an hour or so, the dinner portion ends. In fact, we’re the last ones still cooking. In a few more minutes they’re going to clean this place out and set it up to make dessert. If we’re still hungry we can stay and make some or we can go out for some.” She laughed lightly to herself. “I remember back when it first opened, it was just Matilda working and preparing everything by herself. But now, she has employees for each shift now that clean everything out.”
“Shifts?”
“Yep,” Faith said, setting the dishes that they’d used to cook with in the small dishwasher in the kitchenette. “This place does breakfast, lunch and dinner. It’s great.”
“Sounds like we’ll have to come back.” Andrew smiled, before freezing. Faith smiled at him in amusement as he sputtered, “I mean, that is, if you want another date after tonight, which I hope you do, because I do. But, um, it doesn’t have to be a date, because I do enjoy your company. We can come back as just friends if, um, well if you don’t think it’d be too weird.”
“Shh,” Faith said, putting a gentle hand over his mouth. “Calm down, I’m having fun, I’d like another date, but don’t worry about that right now. Let’s just enjoy this delicious food that Arthur cooked.” She smiled, teasing Andrew.