Page 22 of Saving Her Vampire

“Why? You all can hear everything anyway,” I say.

“But you can’t hear all the shit Ryker is saying.”

“Oh, that’s considerate,” I say softly, warmth spreading.

“That’s me, considerate,” he says. Snorts of humor come through the phone as I put it on speaker. “Let me know how much Marie’s clothes cost, and I’ll pay you back,” Bash says, surprising me.

“You don’t have to,” Ryker protests.

“I do,” Bash disagrees. “She is mine.”

My stupid heart flutters. “I can pay it back in time,” I cut in.

“No, I take care of you,” Bash says. Shit. I’m going down.

“You are really sweet when you aren’t grouchy,” I offer.

“Sweet?” Ryker asks, and then grunts. “What?”

“Jesus, Ryker,” Serenity says, reprimanding.

“As fun as this is, we have things to do,” Bash insists.

“Was that sarcasm?” Ryker asks, surprised.

“Fuck off,” Bash says and hangs up.

“That was rude,” I reprimand.

“I don’t care,” he says.

“I’m not sure what to do with you,” I muse. My vampire mate is such a mystery. I see the secrets lurking behind his eyes. I wish I could read his mind. I want him to give everything to me. His fears, his body (or he could take mine), and his love.

“You don’t want my suggestion,” he says.

“Maybe I do.” I lift an eyebrow.

“Your princess is getting away.” Bash points out the window.

“Shit,” I say. Tabitha is getting in her car. “You distracted me,” I accuse.

“Sorry, baby,” he says earnestly. “I am an asshole.”

“A sexy asshole.” I grin.

“I’ll take it.” He reaches over to pull my seatbelt around me as I prepare to follow her.

“Thanks,” I say. I’ve never had someone take care of me in the little ways Bash does. I love my parents but I took care of myself most of the time. I could get used to Bash’s care.

“Why do you like this?” he asks.

I keep pace behind Tabitha and think about my answer. “I find it fascinating to watch people. You can discover so many interesting things about them. I was always an observer. When you don’t talk a lot, others do to fill the silence; usually, it’s things they wouldn’t normally say. You can also figure out what makes them tick without saying a word if you know what to look for. I remember details, what they eat, and their faces when they’re angry, sad, or happy. Someone can look happy, but you have to look beyond the surface to find the truth.”

“You can read me,” he states.

“I’m starting to,” I admit.

“What do you see?” he asks.