He looked at her face, studying it for a long moment as if he were memorizing her. “I will leave you here. To the life you always wanted. I want you to be happy, Valerie.” For some reason, his words brought tears to her eyes. He seemed so sincere and so far from threatening that she didn’t know why she’d had such an odd reaction to him. He wasn’t scary or worrying. Wasn’t mean or even a stalker. He was…vulnerable.
But it didn’t explain what he was doing here, why he talked to her as if he knew her, or even the odd conversation they were having. And they weren’t in the same league. They were playing different sports, really. He was too handsome, and Val conceded that she could bump up a few rungs to quite pretty with the right bra and make-up, but…he was not for her.
She couldn’t help but look down at herself. A cute top, a boring sweater, black dressy pants and flats. It wasn’t the sort of outfit that made men ask women out.
“Did you really come here to ask me out?”
“Yes.”
“And you’re not a crazy person?” she asked. Cause he’ll confess, genius.
He looked confused. “No. I have a lot of experience with crazy individuals, and I can assure you that I am at least sane.”
She felt her stomach drop to the floor as she said, “Then, all right.”
He stood up straight, and she had to look up at him since she was still sitting on the bench. His gaze narrowed as though he were waiting for the axe to fall. “All right what?”
“All right, I will go out with you.” Because I feel as if I’ve known you my entire life. I feel as if there are unfinished things between us. And in a way, even though he made her feel so many emotions from happiness to rage, from loss to desire, there was something about him that was more real than anything she’d felt in her whole life.
He moved his hair back from his face, and she thought his hand trembled a little. “All right. Good. Well then. Let us go,” he said, and he extended his hand as if they might walk off into the sunset.
“Now?” she asked. He gave her a slightly boyish smile. The smile transformed him. It should be illegal. It would cause women to crash their cars, was a menace to society. “Oh, geez.”
He looked at her quizzically.
“Nothin. I…uh…let me go shut down the computer and lock up.”
He followed her back to her classroom, and she knew he was absorbing everything. As if he were trying to learn about her by studying her things. His gaze lingered on a Disneyland snow globe she used as a paperweight.
“Are you a Disney hater or something?” she joked.
He looked startled. “What is a Disney?”
She squinted at him and pursed her lips. He was joking, wasn’t he? “Disneyland. Or movies. You were staring at Mickey Mouse like you wanted to kill him.”
“I was? No, I was thinking how very little I know of…this place.”
“Where are you from? I noticed the accent,” she said and closed down her Excel spreadsheet. Boy was Miss Stewart going to be unhappy when she learned she’d have to repeat tenth grade history. But that was a problem for Monday. Tonight, she was going on a date. Her stomach fluttered, and she wanted to giggle inanely.
“Europe.”
“That narrows it down to a continent,” she said with a smile.
He took a deep breath and paused for a moment. “I was born in Austria…but it has been a very long time since I have returned to that place. I have a home near Prague I am quite fond of. Have you been to Prague? Or Italy?” he asked, and Valerie felt as if it were a loaded question.
She met his intense scrutiny. “Yeah. I went backpacking after high school. I love the history of it all. You know, you go to these places, and it’s like…maybe it sounds stupid, but it’s like the energy of all these people who have lived before us is still there. I wonder what things must have been like back then.”
“When, specifically?” he asked her. As if he could tell her the differences in minute detail if she narrowed the time frame down.
“Are you into history?” she asked.
“I feel like I have lived it,” he said voice deadpan.
She stood up, put her bag on her shoulder and looked around, making sure she hadn’t left anything behind. On her desk was a mug, her favorite, and it said, ‘Be the kind of woman that when your feet hit the floor in the morning, the devil says, “Crap, she’s up.”’
It appealed to her in an odd way, not just because it was amusing, but because it meant a determination to get stuff done and raise a little hell. Yes, Valerie, because teaching, the gym and a future of cat-hood really raises the roof.
He held out his hand and gestured towards her bag. “Shall I carry that for you?”
She was startled by the chivalrous gesture. “Oh, no, it’s okay. It’s just papers and a few books.” She patted the bag that hung near her waist and looked towards the door. “Shall we go?”
He nodded.
“Um…where should we go?” she asked. She had to look away from him because she was blushing. It was just so strange that a guy like him wanted to go out with a gal like her. But that also kind of depressed her. Every girl has the fantasy of the hot guy falling for them when they’re just a plain Jane. But it doesn’t happen in real life. The Brad Pitt’s of the world always traded up.
“You have a home?” he asked, the picture of innocence.
She jerked back a little. “What? I’m not taking you to my place! I don’t even know you.”
He looked uncertain. “I meant…oh, I see.” He blushed, which was charming. “No, I did not mean that. Where I come from, it was customary for the woman to cook a meal for the man, and I assumed you would do that. I was not trying to invite myself into your home for…other things.” He looked back at her with a small grim smile as if he were waiting for something. Some sort of recognition.
“So you weren’t trying to get me into bed, you just wanted a free meal? Do you like Lean Cuisine?” Valerie asked, trying to turn it into a joke.
“What? No! I apologize. It has been a very long time since I courted a woman.”
“Courted?” she said, laughing at his odd word choice. “Since when—1950?”
He shrugged awkwardly. “1950, 1750, the point is that it was a long time ago. Perhaps you can choose, and then for our next…outing…I will do some research into modern dating practices…” He gave her a pained expression and cleared his throat.
Modern dating practices? It was kind of funny. Who talks like this, she wondered. Maybe that was why he was single. He was a social disaster.
“Are you a scientist or something?”
“No. I have always found science fascinating, be it alchemy or even psychology, but…” He didn't finish the sentence that would give her any more information about what he did for a living.
“Oh.” She really didn’t know what else to say. Speaking to him was confusing. There seemed to be an undercurrent to everything he said, and she felt as if she had to puzzle out his every sentence. Maybe you just sleep with him for his body and don’t let him talk. “How about mini-golf?” she said brightly, trying to get her mind out of the gutter. “Call me crazy, but I suspect you have yet to be introduced to the joys of mini-golf.”
He frowned sternly. “No, I know nothing of that. But if it is something you enjoy, then I will be happy to mini-golf,” he said it like he was were spelling the words out in his head. They walked to the parking lot, and she couldn’t help but ask, “Do you have mini-golf in Austria? I didn’t see it, but I wasn’t looking. I just assumed it was one of those things they had everywhere. Like McDonald’s.”
His response was enthusiastic. “I have eaten at McDonald’s. It is a fascinating production process. Truly revolutionary.”
Okay. “Let me guess, you’re a quarter pounder kind of guy,” she said. He squinted at her, and she wondered if she was just as confusing to him as he was to her. Maybe it didn’t matter. If he wanted to keep talking to her even though every conversation was like two ships passi
ng in the night, she’d let him.
“That’s me. The car over there. Blue Highlander.” He searched the parking lot, looking at the cars, and his gaze seemed to settle on a blue truck two rows over.
“A car,” he murmured under his breath.
She laughed. “I know you’ve been in a car before. Europe is not that backward. Here we go.” The door beeped as she unlocked it, and she thought he jumped a little.
He shot her an odd look. “Europe is very civilized. And of course, it would be very odd if I had never been in a car before.”
She could feel his eyes on her as she opened the back door and put her bag inside, almost as if he were memorizing how to open it. Which was ridiculous. She reached for her door, and he jerked into motion, grabbing the handle and pulling lightly, then harder, so the door opened and she could get in.
She sat down and looked back at him curiously. “You can shut the door now,” she said, trying to soften the command with a smile. He grimaced and closed the door gently before walking to the other side and getting into the passenger seat. He leaned forward, peering out of the dash. “Only a sheet of glass separates you from the world,” he murmured.
“I suppose that's one way to look at it.” He ignored her, still staring straight ahead. “Are you going to put on your seatbelt?” she asked. She didn’t want to order him to do it, but she wouldn’t go anywhere until he did. A friend of hers from high school had died because she hadn’t worn her seat belt.
He looked confused. Val patted her chest, pulling the strap away from her chest, so he could see it. His eyebrows rose, and he tried to turn in his seat, looking for the seat belt and where it started, rather than just reaching over his shoulder like a normal person would have done.
He was too large in her car, his knees blocking the glove compartment. He was slumped just a little so that he didn’t hit his head on the roof. He clicked the seat belt into place and smiled at her.
“All right. You may make it go now,” he said, sounding ridiculously pleased with himself. She couldn’t help but smile. He was charming in a hapless sort of way.
She started the car and he took in a deep breath, pressing his back deep into the seat. She looked behind her, putting the car in reverse and backing up. As she turned back to face the front, she noticed his eyes were closed. And he didn’t look peaceful. “Are you all right?”
His eyes popped open and he turned towards her, his eyes dark and very blue. “Of course. This is nothing. People ride in cars every day. I am sure it is not particularly dangerous.” And then he laughed and shook his head.
“What’s funny?” she asked, pulling out of the parking lot.
His laughter stopped, and he was white-knuckling it; his hands braced against his thighs as he watched the streets go by. “It is…odd to be concerned about my longevity.”
“Hey! I am a very good driver.”
“I am certain you are,” he said sincerely.
“You don’t drive, do you? You must be one of those people who grew up with good public transportation so you never had to learn.”
He nodded slowly. “I must, mustn’t I? And a small village deep in the countryside. It was very backward and slow to modernize,” he said, as though it were very important.
“Okay. So, if you don’t get stuff I shouldn’t be surprised, is that what you’re telling me?”
He cleared his throat. “I suppose I am.”
She had to bite her lip to stop from laughing. He was just so…weird. But cute. “What brings you to California?” she asked, and the thought made her sad. Sure she didn’t know him, and having a conversation with him was like wading through Jell-O, but she liked him. Not that he was the sort of guy one settled down with, but still.
When he didn’t respond instantly, she said, “Business or pleasure? Like vacation?” Just in case he didn’t know what pleasure was. Now that would be sad.
“It feels like a vacation. But I suppose I am…following a dream,” he said seriously.
“Are you an actor?”
His brows slashed down. “No. Why would you say that?” He sounded offended.
“Um, well, you’ve got presence, like stage presence, and you’re so…you know.” Oh God, it wasn’t a big deal to say he was handsome. It was obvious. But, it was a big deal to be so flustered by his beauty that she couldn’t even comment on it. She blurted it out, knowing that the words were far from casual. “Because you’re so good-looking.”
Now he did smile at her. A truly radiant and happy smile, his teeth white and even. “It is nice of you to say so, my Valkyrie.”
After that, Val wasn’t sure what to say, and so they drove in silence for a bit. She pulled into the mini-golf parking lot and instantly knew she’d made a huge mistake.
“So this is it,” she said as they got out of the car. Lucas was staring up at the faux-castle with its plastic flags on the pretend battlements with an inscrutable expression. Probably trying to come up with a way of saying ‘this is really immature and beneath me’ without being offensive. It really was a pathetic attempt at a castle. A castle, arcade and mini-golf center in one.
He was so out of place in this environment that she felt like an idiot for bringing him here. “You know what, this might not have been a great idea. In fact, now that we’re here, I’m quite confident this was a terrible decision. This must seem so lame and childish. I have no idea what my thought process was.”
“I have made far worse,” he said and put his hand out to her, wanting her to hold his hand. She did it automatically, and it was only when he gripped her hand, then laced their fingers together as they crossed the parking lot, that she realized how odd it was. Holding his hand? He was a stranger!
“I feel as if we should have gone to a nice restaurant or a museum instead.”
He looked down at her, his height a little imposing. He was standing close to her, and a sudden breeze meant that she could smell him, that undefinable scent of male and cologne. He closed his eyes for a moment, as though he enjoyed the breeze and turned his face to the sun. It made her stomach flutter in a pathetic and girly sort of way. His voice was soft and affectionate. “I do not care where I am, so long as I am with you.”
Wow. That’s quite the line. She suspected that chicks with stronger panties than her had fallen into bed with him on that one. At the counter, she told the teenage clerk she wanted mini-golf for two. She reached into her purse to pay.
“Wait. I believe I have a wallet,” he said and reached into his back pocket. He smiled triumphantly when he pulled it out, and she couldn’t help but smile back; his grin was infectious.
“Did you think you’d left home without it?”
“In a manner of speaking,” he said.
She shrugged and let him pay. “I’ll get dinner.”
He looked at her arrogantly. “No. You will not,” he said, tone brooking no dissent.
“Why do I feel like I have just seen the real you?”
He blinked owlishly, and she knew by the press of his lips he was waiting for her to explain.
“You seem like someone who gets what they want, no matter the cost.” They walked out to the golf course, and the sound of rushing water greeted them. There were noisy fountains and golf-ball-eating-ponds, which competed with the noise from the freeway. Lucas peered at a tiny windmill, walking around it as though it were a work of art. “This is a very small windmill,” he murmured, sounding perplexed.
“Yes, and there is a very small saloon,” Val said, pointing at it with her golf club. What the hell was I thinking?
“So I use the club to hit the ball into the small doors?”
“Yes, through the small doors. Where the little people live,” Val said, struggling to keep a straight face.
“Now you are mocking me,” he said, voice sexily low.
Val bit back a smile. “I might be.”
He held out his hand for a ball. There was a blue one and a pink one. She gave him the pink one to see what he’d say, bu
t he didn’t seem to care.
“This is the first hole?” he asked, and walked up to the small strip of green AstroTurf and put his ball down on top of the divot to keep it from rolling away. Valerie watched Lucas as he squatted down, ogling his thigh muscles and the curve of his buttock. She realized she was staring, and that he was watching her out of the corner of his eye. “Some things do not change.”
“Huh?” Val asked, and felt herself flush. Was he referring to how she ogled him?
“The children and their squabbles,” he said, glancing over to a pair of boys with anger management issues who were chasing each other, clubs raised.
“Do you have siblings?”
His mouth opened for a moment, as though he was going to say something and then stopped himself. “No. I do not.”
“Oh. Me either. I think that’s why I’ve always wanted a large family. Because it was just me, you know?”
“So you want many children?”
Whoops. Way to scare him off, Dearborn. But what was she going to do, lie? She did want kids. If he didn’t, best to know now. “Yeah, I do. What about you?”
“I do not think of it overmuch. It has never been a possibility for me,” he said absently.
Was he infertile or something? “Oh,” Val said, not knowing what else to say.
His attention came back to her. “Oh, I see. No, I did not mean I was incapable.” He rubbed the back of his neck as though the subject was awkward.
And it was.
He seemed to be searching for the right words. “Let me say…historically, I suppose… it was never something I would consider. There were other obligations.”
“What? Like work or family?”
“Work,” he said flatly.
“So what do you do?” She lined up the ball and gave it a smack, watching as it just missed the ramp up into the barn and a hole-in-one.
He rubbed his temple as if he had a headache, and she wished she hadn’t asked. She was trying to think of something to change the subject to when he answered. “I have had many jobs. But none of them were particularly fulfilling.”
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