But Zane’s mini-concert was abruptly cut short when his headlights glinted on something reflective on the side of the road ahead. The object looked like it was moving, and almost sparkling.
“It can’t be…” Zane said, reaching to turn down the volume of his radio. But the closer he got, the more sure he was. The shuffling, sparkling form on the side of the road was Molly. She was moving slowly, as though in pain, and her cape looked a little less spectacular out here in the harsh light of his headlights than it had in the warm light of the bar. Why in the world was she walking? Had her car broken down? Zane slowed down and then pulled up beside her.
“Molly?” he asked.
She turned to look at him, reluctantly. A nervous, forced smile crossed her lips when she saw him.
“Zane?” she said. “Hi.”
“Um, hi,” he said. “What are you doing out here, walking in the dark? Did your car break down? Do you need help?”
“I’m fine. I actually don’t have a car, so I’m walking home.”
She said the words very matter-of-factly, but her voice sounded pained and weary. She didn’t meet his eyes as she spoke, and Zane got the feeling that she was embarrassed by the fact that she was out here with no transportation.
“Really? Why didn’t you ask someone for a ride, Molly? There are tons of people who were at the bar tonight who live out this way. You would’ve had a lot of options for hitching a ride home.”
Molly frowned and looked down at her feet. “A lot of people…don’t really like to associate with me. I don’t think anyone would have wanted to give me a ride.”
Her voice sounded resigned, and sad. The sound made Zane’s heart twist in his chest in a funny way. He knew she was right. People in town were somewhat wary of her, although he thought it was ridiculous that they acted that way. She might be a bit eccentric, but she was harmless. And nice. And beautiful.
Damn it, Zane thought to himself. Why the hell is my heart running away with me over Molly? He forced himself to breathe normally as he looked over at her.
“That’s not true,” he said. “I would have wanted to give you a ride. And I still do. Hop in.”
Molly looked at him suspiciously, as though he were playing some sort of trick on her.
“I’m fine, really,” she said. “I’m not that far from home now.”
It was Zane’s turn to look suspicious. “You can’t be that close,” he said. There aren’t any more houses on this road for another half-mile at least. You look exhausted. Get in. Let me take you home.”
Molly hesitated again, but her sore feet must have gotten the better of her, because she finally nodded and hopped into the truck, pulling her velvet magicians bag in with her. As soon as she had settled in and closed the door, Zane started driving again, a little slower this time. He saw Molly glancing down at his seat, and realized that the note from the mystery woman was sitting between them. Zane quickly snatched it up and threw it in the back of the cab, feeling strangely nervous of what Molly would think if she read it. Molly looked at him curiously, but didn’t ask any questions about the note.
“Great show tonight,” Zane said, desperate to focus her attention somewhere besides the note. When he mentioned the show, her face instantly lit up.
“Thank you,” she said. “It’s been a while since I did a show. It was really good to get back on stage. And the best part is that Cassie liked it so much that she asked me to come back tomorrow night, and every week after that.”
“That’s awesome!” Zane said. He felt his heart leap in his chest, and he didn’t even bother trying to squash the excitement he felt at the prospect of more chances to watch her perform. She was amazing on stage.
“Yeah, I’m pretty happy. I need the work,” Molly said, her voice taking on a tinge of embarrassment. “As you can probably tell, since I don’t even have a car.”
Zane’s heart went out to her. She looked so sad and resigned sitting there in her sparkling cape. He wanted to do something to make her feel better.
“Well, I’m happy to give you a ride home from your shows whenever you need it,” Zane said.
“Turn left right here,” Molly said. “My house is the third one on the right. And thank you for the standing offer of a ride, but I couldn’t possibly impose on you that much.”
“It’s not an imposition,” Zane said as he pulled up in front of the small ranch style home that Molly had indicated belonged to her. “We live really close to each other, actually. I’m less than a mile from here. I’m happy to help out with rides whenever you need it.”
Molly looked over at him with a renewed expression of suspicion. Zane could tell she wasn’t used to having people do favors for her. Her green eyes were wide and disbelieving, but they sparkled just as beautifully here as they had back at the bar while she was performing. Zane’s heart skipped a beat, but he chose to ignore it. He wasn’t ready for a new relationship, especially not a relationship with the town eccentric whom he barely knew. Still, he couldn’t keep his body from going a little crazy at her beauty. She had a different look from any other woman he had ever dated, and he liked that look a lot.
“Alright, well, thanks for the offer,” Molly said. “I’ll keep it in mind. And thanks for the ride tonight. I appreciate it.”
Zane nodded as she reached for the door handle. He didn’t want her to leave, but he couldn’t think of anything else reasonable to say to make her stay. And then, before he could stop himself, he found himself telling her to wait. When she paused with her hand on the door, he looked into her uncertain, shimmering face for a moment before speaking.
“Your eyes are really pretty,” he said. “I’ve never seen eyes so green, and they’re beautiful.”
Molly blushed seven different shades of red at Zane’s words, and Zane kicked himself for so awkwardly flirting with her. The last thing he wanted to do was lead her on and make her think he was interested in a girlfriend when he wasn’t. And talking about green eyes made him think about the mystery note writer, which, once again, made him feel guilty for saying something flirtatious to Molly.
This night really needed to end, and now.
Thankfully, Molly seemed just as eager as he now was to bring the conversation to a close. She muttered a quick thank you, and then made a beeline for her front door.
“Real smooth, Zane,” he said to himself as he watched her go.
Zane asked himself for the thousandth time that night how was it possible to feel pain over losing a girlfriend while also having a crush on two other women. He shook his head in frustration, took one last look at the door Molly had just closed behind her, and then started driving toward his own home.
He definitely needed some sleep right now.
Chapter Seven
Molly closed the door behind her, her heart racing in her chest. She stood there, perfectly still, until she saw the headlights from Zane’s truck heading down the road. She was a mixture of confusing emotions right now, and she wasn’t sure how to process everything.
She felt embarrassed that Zane had seen her walking and now knew she didn’t have a car. Although he had been nothing but kind to her tonight, she couldn’t help but wonder if he thought she was irresponsible or a loser for not being able to afford a car. Lord knows her neighbors thought things like that about her. And Molly was both delighted and horrified when Zane offered to give her rides in the future.
On the one hand, she desperately wanted to spend more time with him. Seeing him up close, as she had tonight, took her breath away. His face was sculpted and tanned, and his eyes were kind and almost glowing. There was something special and unique about him, although Molly couldn’t quite put her finger on it.
But, on the other hand, she knew nothing good could come of a relationship with Zane. She had tried dating men from Persimmon Springs a few times before, and it never worked out. The men would seem like kind, generous people, until the rest of the town found out that they were dating Molly. People would go on and on about we
ird Molly was, and pressure whoever her boyfriend was at the time to break up with her. And, inevitably, Molly ended up brokenhearted and alone. No thank you. She didn’t want any part in that anymore. Even though Zane seemed different than all those guys, she didn’t trust him.
And she was really shaken by the fact that he had mentioned her eyes. Why had he brought it up the same night that she had left him a note giving away the fact that her secret persona had green eyes? Molly knew he had seen the note. It had been sitting on his truck’s seat when she climbed in, and he was obviously flustered by it. She had never seen a man move as quickly as when Zane caught her looking at that note and threw it in the backseat.
Molly slowly moved to her dining room, where she set her magician’s cap and bag of tricks down on the table. Her feet ached. She had walked even more than normal today, since she’d gone into town this morning, then come back home before walking out to the bar again. Add in more time on her feet for the show, and she had been standing most of the day. Despite her misgivings about the whole situation, she was glad for her feet’s sake at least that Zane had driven her the last mile home.
Molly was quite curious now about whether Zane had answered the note she left on his truck at the bar. She was almost positive that he had, and she was dying to know what it said. A small, crazy part of her actually wanted to walk back out there right now and see. But the round trip to the bar and back would require another six miles of walking. No matter how much Molly wanted to read Zane’s next note, she didn’t think her feet could handle a six mile walk at the moment. She needed to rest.
In the morning, she would head back into town, get his note, and get some groceries. Then she would attempt to find his truck and answer the note, before heading back home to get ready for her next magic show. She could already tell that tomorrow was going to be an exhausting day, but she couldn’t complain. She was going to get to perform again, which likely meant more money coming in. And there was a good possibility Zane was going to insist on driving her home, which, despite her misgivings, gave her a little thrill of excitement. Molly smiled, and went to get ready for bed. Hopefully she could get some good rest. Tomorrow was looking like it would be a good day.
* * *
The next day, Molly made her way to the bar’s parking lot first thing in the morning. As she expected, there was a note taped to one of the trees. After carefully making sure no one was around to watch, she ran to grab the note, then ran back into the safety of the bushes. With trembling hands, she opened the note and read. She smiled as her eyes scanned the pages. Zane had liked her magic show, and he loved green eyes. Perhaps he really just was a lover of green eyes, and his comment to her last night had been innocent enough. Molly couldn’t think of how he would possibly have figured out who she was from the minimal information she had given him in her notes. She sat behind the bushes for a long time, trying to decide how to answer him.
Their notes had taken on a definite flirtatious tone. It was subtle, but it was there. And Molly wished with all her heart that she could continue flirting with him, letting their correspondence develop into love and then into a real-life relationship. But she knew better. She had known better all along, and she had already let this go too far. A flirty, love-note relationship with Zane might go well for a little while. But as soon as he realized who she was, he was going to be disappointed. As fun as this had been, Molly realized soberly that she needed to nip this in the bud. And so, with great sadness, she picked up her pen and started to write, addressing him by name for the first time since she started writing these notes
Dear Zane, I want to thank you for your sweet note. And I am very glad that I have been able to have a small part in helping you through a tough time. But I don’t think I can give you another clue as to who I am. In fact, I think it is better if we part ways here and end this correspondence. You see, I think that I am not who you think I am. That might be a strange thing to say, considering that you don’t actually know who I am. So allow me to explain. I am someone who has always been considered a little bit weird. I’ve always been an outsider. People have always thought that there was something “different” about me, and thus have kept me at arms' length. I guess what I’m trying to say is this: our notes are gradually getting more personal. While I would love to get to know you better and to spend more time with you, I am afraid to get too close to a man. I already know how that story ends. Someone briefly takes an interest in me, and then, when they realize I am not the same deep down as everyone else, they cut me off. It’s painful, and I just don’t have the energy to repeat that process again. And it would only be wasting your time, as well, to act like we could form any kind of long-lasting relationship. I hope that you can understand. And I truly hope that things in your life continue to improve. My best wishes for you as you move forward.
Molly frowned as she reread the note. It sounded a bit stiff and formal, but maybe it was better that way. She wanted Zane to know she was serious about needing to end their correspondence. Feeling a bit despondent, Molly went and taped the note to the same tree where she had found Zane’s note about thirty minutes ago. Molly figured she might as well leave her note there, too, instead of traipsing around looking for Zane’s truck. Zane would be at the bar tonight for the magic show, and he would want to check to see whether his note had been picked up. When he did, he would find Molly’s note.
Before she could change her mind about what she had written, Molly quickly turned and walked away from the bar. She had some grocery shopping to do, and she needed to get her mind off that note.
Chapter Eight
Zane did his best to keep his temper in check as the old lady whose house he had just repaired yelled at him. The electrical wiring in her home had been sorely in need of updating, and Zane had done the updates for her. He had done a pretty damn good job, too, if he did say so himself. He had run into some very unexpected snafus along the way, which had extended the time it took to complete the project by an extra day. Normally, Zane charged for things like that. It was in his contract that when certain unexpected issues came up, the customer would pay for them. He had a list of standard rates, and he always kept his customers updated on the progress he was making or any unexpected delays. He didn’t like surprises, and he knew his customers didn’t, either.
When he’d run into issues on this current project, he’d decided not to charge the lady extra, out of the goodness of his heart. She was a senior citizen who was living alone, and she had been very kind to Zane up until today. He felt badly increasing her bill, even though he had every right to do so. Zane had a soft heart, sometimes too soft, it seemed. He’d done the extra day of work and simply written off the cost, after explaining to the lady what he was doing. Now, the lady was yelling at him that he had taken longer than he originally said to finish the project, and she wanted a full refund. Zane was doing his best to be patient with her, but he was quickly reaching the end of his fuse.
Why did he always end up with the short end of the stick when he tried to be nice? He was a kind man, a hard worker, and a loyal friend. Why did it feel like everything was going wrong for him lately? Couldn’t he catch a break? After about fifteen minutes of yelling at him without letting him get a word in edgewise, the old lady finally stopped and wrote Zane a check, threw it in his face, and told him to get out of her house. He was tempted to throw the check back in her face and tell her he didn’t need her money. But he figured he might as well get something for all his hard work, and for putting up with her yelling at him.
Zane deposited the check at the bank, then went home to change. As he reached into his closet for a shirt, he found a checkered button-down that Sasha had given to him. Cursing angrily, he tore the shirt off the hanger and went to throw it in the trash. Then he decided to put on a t-shirt from one of his favorite indie bands instead. He looked at his watch. It was still several hours before the magic show at Hometown Bar would be starting, but he felt like he needed to get out and have a beer. He w
as suffocating under the weight of his own thoughts right now. Maybe being around other people would help.
Zane climbed into his truck and drove to the bar, blaring country music the whole way to try to drown out the depressed voices in his head. He was feeling out of sorts for so many reasons, but he realized as he drove that one of the reasons was that his heart was being pulled in so many different directions. He was still grieving the loss of Sasha, but lord knows that even if she came running back to him right now he wasn’t interested in ever actually being with her again. More confusing to him was the way he felt like he was falling for both Molly and for the mystery writer. He hadn’t received any surprise notes today, and he was feeling surprisingly grumpy about that. Why did he care so much?
Zane pulled into the parking lot of the bar going way too fast, but he didn’t care. He was in a foul mood, and he was taking his anger out in any way possible. But when he screeched to a halt in his usual parking spot, he saw that there was a note taped to the tree. His heart leapt, and he went to see what it said. He felt momentarily happy again, and he looked left and right to try to see whether anyone was around who might be responsible for the note. Of course, there was no one there. This note had been probably been left hours ago, and, besides, whoever was writing these notes was very good at not getting caught.
Zane sat in his truck to read the note, a giddy smile playing on his lips as he unfolded it. That smile quickly faded, however, when he saw what was written.
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” he said aloud. This day kept getting worse and worse. The mystery writer had just told him that she didn’t want to exchange notes anymore, simply because she didn’t think Zane would understand how “different” she was. Zane obviously had no idea what the note writer meant by “different,” but he did know himself what it felt like to be different. He was, after all, part dragon. You couldn’t get much more different than that.
Lone Star Magic (Shifters in the Heart of Texas Book 3) Page 5