Bloodthirsty Bastard: A Hero Club Novel
Page 23
I wondered if he kept the children close because of what happened to his wife. Why were there no pictures of her in the house anywhere? Where was she? I got the sense that she was dead. How did she die? Was she murdered, or something horrible like that? I needed to find more answers.
Then there was Jack, the baby. Oh, I loved him so much already. I was laying on the blanket, pine needles crunching beneath me, when he wandered over. Covered in dirt and leaves and forest, he stood looking at me, wide-eyed.
“What’s wrong?”
“Can I lay down with you?” he asked.
I held my hands out to him, and this little bundle of warm boy curled up in my arms and fell asleep. My heart nearly burst with deep comfortable contentment. Jack smelled like the outdoors and pine sap and yes, baby. I wanted to hold him and keep him forever at that moment.
Then he stirred, and his dirty bare foot made a long mud print down the side of my shorts and leg.
Becca had found a frog and was making it a home out of mud, rocks, and sticks.
We’d been next to the stream for several hours, our lunch long gone when Jack moaned, “I’m hungry.”
We packed up and headed back to the house. Its granite block facade peeked out from behind the trees like a beacon, leading us home.
When we burst through the back door into the kitchen, Flor fussed over the children in good-natured Spanish, then herded them upstairs to bathe them.
I showered myself and got ready for dinner. As I sat at the vanity in my room, I leaned over to my little refrigerator and pulled out my last bottle of wine and poured myself a glass. There were only a few ounces left and now I was out.
Shoot. I’d have to go and get some more blood from a butcher. That would be easier. Better. It didn’t taste as good, and usually wasn’t as fresh, but it’d work.
I did love human blood though. The smell, the taste… it was just different than animal blood. It made me feel euphoric...then guilty.
After pulling my blond curls into a ponytail, I meandered down the back stairs into the kitchen.
Owen was leaning against the counter drinking a beer and appeared to be lost in thought. He looked so alone, I walked up to him without thinking and rested my hand on his arm.
As soon as I did, he jumped. He hadn't seen me approach; he was so deep in thought. I can move quicker than the human eye can see, but I honestly didn't think I’d snuck up on him.
“I didn’t mean to startle you,” I said. “You just looked so…” I wasn’t sure what to say. He looked sad, maybe lonely, or as if the weight of the world were on his shoulders.
He smiled his crooked smile, the one that gave me a shiver up my spine, and waved off my concern. “I have to go out of town for a few days. I’m glad to see you getting along well with the kids.” I wondered why he didn't remarry, and then the thought occurred to me that maybe he had a girlfriend.
“Yeah, we’ll be fine.” I didn’t want him to go; his presence reassured me, but I couldn’t tell him that, so I didn’t. It was strange that I wanted him near. I’d lived alone for a while now and hadn’t wanted anyone around before.
Dinner went along as usual. Elaine had put a casserole of some kind in the oven. Flor, the kids, Owen, and I sat at the large wooden kitchen table. Flor didn’t usually join us for dinner; she lived outside of Durango and would go home every night.
I must have worn the kids out. They were usually boisterous, but tonight the dining room was quiet.
Every once in a while, Becca and Flor babbled in Spanish, while Jack flipped the pages of a children’s catalog, mesmerized. When the family and Flor began a lively conversation, I looked up from toying with my food and watched.
You would think that I’d have started to understand more Spanish by now. While I was pondering this, I realized Owen was looking at me intensely. I knew what that look meant.
He wasn’t just looking at me; he was really looking at me.
To be honest, I thought that our whole connection had been in my mind. My enthralling employer wasn't interested in me in that way, right? I kept telling myself that it was a good thing he wasn’t interested. I should hope for that, right? Okay, so not hope, but it would’ve been the moral thing.
The safe thing.
But deep down, I knew he desired me as much as I craved him.
When I looked back up from my plate, I noticed Flor had been watching us, wearing that Mona Lisa smile on her lips. They exchanged words, and I bit the side of my mouth, wondering what they were saying.
If only I knew Spanish! After another coy smile, the housekeeper said something to Owen, and he coughed on his glass of water before speaking rapidly back to her.
I watched them intently, my head turning with each exchange as if at a ping-pong game, trying to decipher the code.
Flor's dialog was laughing and teasing. Owen's tone seemed uptight and embarrassed. He was mildly flushed but kept his expression reasonably neutral. His pitch was slightly higher than usual. He ran his hands through his disheveled dark hair, which I had come to realize was a nervous habit of his.
After it was clear that they were talking about me, I looked away and sipped my water, pretending not to notice. Unfortunately, I have pale English skin, and I felt my own blush prickle its way up my neck and over my cheeks.
If I thought things would be simple with Owen Bennett, I wouldn’t hesitate to get involved with him. However, I knew a relationship of any kind would be anything but simple.
I was already falling for the man. My skin seemed to heat when I was around him. I felt like a fool and seemed unable to think. His charming presence seemed to wash away every logical thought in my head.
Oh, but the way he had looked at me, I wished we were alone.
I straightened my spine and sniffed. I wasn’t going to indulge in some primal urge just because I found someone attractive. I needed to resolve to keep my distance.
But, how could I stay logical and cold, when all I wanted to do was touch him? My desire for him, was this what compulsion was like? My need to be near him, to feel him, to breathe in his scent.
I wish it stopped there, but it didn’t. I wanted Owen to kiss me and hold me. I wanted to taste his skin, drink his blood, like I'd never wanted before. The thought of his hands on me ignited flames inside I'd never felt before.
It was too dangerous, and I was a fool to think about my employer in such a way.
About the Author
T.L. lives in Colorado with her husband and two children. She’s a graduate from the University of Colorado in Boulder and an avid outdoorswoman. When she's not outside or writing, you'll find her playing the Sims, a new Nancy Drew Mystery or watching some Netflix. For more information or to contact T.L. visit her at www.TLChristianson.com.