Page 20 of The Darkest Chase
I ignore it like I’m not the clown who put it there.
As we near the café, I step around her and pull out one of the elegant wrought-iron chairs at an outdoor table.
“Have a seat. I’ll get you something to drink. Water or iced tea?”
After hesitating, she nods, settling slowly into the chair. “Iced tea works. Of course, I’ll pay you back.”
“You won’t.”
She stares at me over her shoulder with those big blue eyes, her teeth sinking into one corner of her mouth to plump it to ripeness.
Fuck me, I shouldn’t be noticing.
Still, there’s something about the way her body language changes when she’s close to me. The way she holds herself away so carefully, not quite touching me and yet seeming so painfully aware of my nearness.
It makes the need to get away from her palpable.
Ideally, before I start noticing even more.
Distractions from work are the last thing I need.
Especially not a sweet young diversion who looks like she’d melt at the slightest touch, vulnerable and completely exposed.
Assuming she wouldn’t be brutally scandalized by me thinking about her that way, that is.
Once she’s settled, I duck inside the café, letting the scent of fresh grounds chase her smell out of my nose.
Vanilla.
Rich vanilla beans with a cinnamon undercurrent. That’s what she smells like, airy and sweet with a subtle bite.
There’s something seriously wrong with me today.
I swear, I don’t normally do this.
A woman collapses on the street with a medical emergency, and my reaction is to want to taste just how breakable she could be.
Maybe I really am my bastard of a father’s son after all. The crows always come to remind me, just like the ones I glimpsed a few minutes ago.
My old man just wore his cruelty on the surface while I bury mine deeper.
Just like I bury it now, under the surface of Officer Friendly as I put in a fresh order for the team and grab a sweetened iced tea for Talia Grey. I slip a little extra—fine, a lot extra—into the tip jar for the mess I left outside. The barista already gave me an awkward look, but I guess I’ve earned my place in Redhaven when I don’t get a snarky comment to go with it.
When I head back out, Miss Grey’s perched in her chair, looking in her compact mirror and wiping at her smudged mascara.
She’s managed to pat her mussed-up hair back into place, though it’s still a little wild.
The look suits her. She’s an ivory candle with a crown of fire.
As I approach the table, she glances up and offers me a worn smile.
“Thanks,” she says as I set the tea down in front of her.
“It’s nothing.” I take the chair across from her, setting the cupholder down and fishing out my own coffee to take a sip. “How are you feeling?”
“Embarrassed, mostly.” Biting her lip, she closes her compact and tucks it into her purse. “I can’t believe I passed out like that in the middle of town.”
“No need to be embarrassed. The crowd was concerned about you.”