by Amira Rain
With these unexpected and sexy thoughts racing through my mind in the span of a second, I found myself struggling to recover from my abruptly cut-off apology for being late.
After taking a deep breath, trying to get my brain to refocus, I tried again. “Hey. I apologize for being a couple of minutes late. I was just...”
I hadn’t exactly been planning on saying what I’d been doing, because of course, what I’d been doing had just been simple getting ready, doing my hair and makeup and such, without paying very close attention to the time. But now that I’d said “I was just,” I felt compelled to finish the thought, or else trail off into complete awkwardness, never completing it.
“I guess I was just taking my sweet time getting ready. I was just doing my makeup and things like that.”
With twenty-twenty hindsight, I realized I should have just left the thought incomplete. Because now, what I’d just said struck me as a hundred times more awkward than a trailed-off thought ever could be.
“I took my time picking out my jewelry. I curled my hair a little bit.”
Now that I was off and running, apparently, I couldn’t stop finishing the thought.
Judging by the way Reed had me choking on my apology for being late, and now, had me rambling like a complete fool, a person would never know that I’d spent my teens and early twenties in a state of complete calm and cool around members of the opposite sex. They’d probably think I’d never even had a dinner date before.
Reed didn’t seem to mind my being so incredibly flustered around him at present, and in fact, he seemed faintly amused. It was just slightly odd to see him with a faint smile playing around the edges of his mouth, since usually, it seemed that all he did around me was frown.
After I’d said what I had about my hair, jewelry, and makeup, he just fixed me with a momentary look, eyes twinkling, before speaking. “Don’t worry at all about being late. Everything you were busy doing to make you late was well worth it. You look absolutely beautiful.”
Now I was rendered speechless, not able to say a word, let alone do any babbling. However, I hadn’t been rendered speechless just by what Reed had said. It had been the look in his eyes while he’d said it. It had been a look of unmistakable warmth and sincerity, the first flicker of real, unmistakable warmth I’d ever seen dancing within his icy blue eyes.
However, to my extreme disappointment, within a moment or two, that glimmer of warmth was gone, replaced by a frown as he hastily and wordlessly pulled out my chair for me, to his right at the head of the table. Completely dejected to see his eyes devoid of warmth once again, I walked over and had a seat.
We barely spoke for the first ten minutes or so of our special dinner. We exchanged a few brief comments about the incredibly tender filet mignon Marie had made, and Reed asked at one point if I’d like more wine, and I said yes, please, but that was it. Really, we barely even made eye contact. Marie had put on some very quiet classical music somewhere, just loud enough to be heard. I couldn’t even see the source of the music itself; I could only see just a speaker in one corner, up near the ceiling. At any rate, I’d never been happier to have music playing during dinner in my life, because it helped fill the near-silent gaps between quiet, awkward clinks of our silverware on our china plates as we cut our steak.
Intrigued by the affectionate glimmer I’d seen in Reed’s eyes earlier, I wanted to know what had made him reel back his warmth after showing me a brief flash of it. The tension that was currently hanging in the air between us certainly wasn’t helping to assuage my curiosity any. Not to mention that what wasn’t helping the tension itself was quick little looks Reed kept giving me from beneath his long dark lashes while still frowning, as if he really didn't want to be giving me those little looks but almost couldn’t help himself. I knew on my end, I was giving him a few quick little glances as well, which I didn’t really want to be doing. Each peek at his handsome face caused a wave of butterflies in my stomach, a sensation that though not exactly unpleasant, just served to key me up even more in my current state of uncertainty and anxiety.
Finally, when we'd both nearly finished with our meal, Reed said something other than a brief comment about food.
“Another Bloodborn spy tried to break into the village today, and it took me and no fewer than eight of my men to kill him. I’m not trying to put undue pressure on us, Samantha, but… the sooner you get pregnant, the better for all of us.”
So that’s what that flicker of warmth I saw in his eyes was, I thought. It was fake. He’s just eager to get me back into bed again so we can do more “work” on trying to impregnate me. And he just thought that casting a little flicker of warmth in my direction might help in that effort.
Feeling more resigned than rankled, I swallowed a bite of potato, took a sip of wine, and then nodded. “I completely understand… and no one wants to get pregnant faster than I do. My mom’s life literally depends on it, remember? So, don’t worry. We can get down to the ‘business’ of baby-making again later tonight if you want, and hopefully, I’ll start having pregnancy symptoms before too long. And in the meantime, as far as you and your shifters having to deal with the Bloodborn bears, I actually think I can help.”
With his dark brows lifting a degree, Reed looked maybe just a bit surprised to have me offer any sort of help with the Bloodborn. “What do you mean? What kind of ‘help’ do you think you can give us?”
Feeling a little self-conscious, I told him about my weird talent of knife-throwing, adding that it wasn’t just a stupid parlor trick. “Or… well, I’m sure it is a stupid parlor trick in a way, but I also think it could be a huge asset in any fight against the Bloodborn. Like, say, for example, if several of them try to creep into the village at once. You and a few dozen of your men could go after a few of them, and I could try to take one out with a carefully-aimed knife to the eyeball.”
With his fork and last bite of steak suspended in mid-air, Reed just looked at me for a long moment before breaking out with a fairly long, loud chuckle. While he laughed, actually laughed, I just sat stone-still, with my blood feeling as if it were turning to lava. At the same time, the room seemed to shift, or spin slightly or something, as if my anger were somehow affecting my vision, even though I knew it wasn’t. It was just that Reed’s laughter at what I’d said had just about enraged me. And instead of soon making a trip up to the bedroom with him like I’d thought I soon might, I was about to give him a piece of my mind.
CHAPTER EIGHT
“You’re laughing at me now? Seriously? You’re seriously laughing at me?”
My words had come out with a funny sort of tremor present, one that usually didn’t show up in my voice unless I was fighting mad, which I definitely was. I just couldn’t believe that the idea of me battling the Bloodborn with knives was so outright laughable to Reed.
The moment I’d begun speaking, though, he’d immediately stopped laughing. He now tried to say something, but I cut him off.
“No. Don’t you dare even try to tell me how stupid my idea is. I refuse to hear it.”
Before I knew it, I was throwing my napkin on the table, then running from the room. However, in my anger, my brain had become so jumbled that I’d started running out to the kitchen, instead of up the stairs to my bedroom, where I really wanted to go. It was only halfway down the corridor that led to the kitchen that I realized my mistake and slowed my steps to turn around. I wasn’t heading up to my bedroom, though; I was going to race back to the dining room, because I knew I had to defend myself.
I’d nearly made it to the entrance of the dining room when I crashed into a hard, muscular wall of chest for the second time that day. Apparently, Reed had been striding out of the dining room while I'd been striding in.
With my anger rising higher still, I all but shoved him out of the way and continued into the dining room. “I want you to listen to me say something. Please sit down.”
Somewhat to my surprise, just because he was chief of Somerset, and
I was sure he wasn’t used to being told to sit down, even with a please, he did sit down. Un-balling my fists, which I hadn't even been aware of balling in the first place, I took a seat as well, noticing a few drops of hot melted wax dripping from one of the burgundy candles down to its brushed brass holder.
Before speaking, I took a deep breath in an attempt to calm myself, although this hardly worked, because my words came out with the same angry tremor that they had before. “You may think that my knife-throwing skills are a complete joke, Reed, but I can assure you they’re not. In fact, if I had a chance to test them out, like if I could just come face-to-face with a Bloodborn bear while armed with a bagful of very sharp knives-”
“I wasn’t laughing at you, Samantha. Please believe me. I wasn’t.”
Incredulous, I snorted. “Well, you could have fooled me. Because I don’t think I imagined-”
“No, you didn’t imagine me laughing. But I wasn’t laughing at you, or at the idea of you taking out a Bloodborn with a knife. I swear I wasn’t.”
“Well, then, what-”
“It was maybe helpless laughter, or laughter of complete disbelief because that’s how I felt when you offered to help with the Bloodborn. See, we Somerset shifters are used to being quite powerful. For several years, we’ve been able to keeping the Bloodborn off our lands with very minimal effort. We’re not used to being in the weakened state that we’ve existed in ever since the Bloodborn unleashed their biological weapon on us. You see? When you offered to help deal with them, I just felt an almost comical level of disbelief…it fully hit me that I and my men have become so weakened that a non-shifter, fully-human woman feels the need to offer help. Maybe I was laughing with embarrassment more than anything, Samantha. But for whatever reason I was laughing, I wasn’t laughing at you, or your offer of help. In fact, I find it very unfunny. I find it very selfless and admirable.”
If Reed was doing a bit of acting in order to cover what he’d done, he was doing a damned good job of it. Because looking into his eyes, I couldn’t deny that his expression was one of complete sincerity. His expression seemed to hold deep regret and apology, even.
It was all too much for me to make comment on right away, so I didn’t, and Reed continued.
“I hope you can believe me when I say that I’m telling you the truth. But at any rate, as much as I appreciate your offer, there’s no way I can let you use your knife skills against the Bloodborn. It’s far too dangerous.”
“Oh, don’t even pretend like you care what happens to me. We just have a ‘business’ relationship, even after last night, right?”
For some reason, the mere mention of “last night” caused an immediate ache in my chest, and when I next spoke, my words once again held a tremor, although not one of anger.
“You’re just a ‘businessman,’ right, Reed? So, beyond me providing a baby to strengthen you and your shifters, why do you care if I live or die?”
With that, I bolted out of my seat and all but flew out of the dining room toward the stairs, having to force myself not to break into a full-tilt sprint. To my genuine relief, Reed didn't follow me.
I made it to my room and my bed before beginning to cry, burying my face in my pillow. I wasn’t even quite sure exactly why I was crying. So far, things in Somerset had went how I’d hoped they would go. Reed and I had a business relationship, and we were working on making something happen that we both wanted to happen for our respective reasons. I supposed I was just crying because my good faith offer to help him with the Bloodborn had been rejected. However, upon further reflection, I realized that maybe I was crying because I had been rejected. And this, when I’d been telling myself that I didn’t want any kind of a real relationship with Reed. Or, at least that’s what I’d told myself before meeting him.
He didn’t come to visit me in the guest room that night, which was fine with me. I didn’t particularly feel like looking at him again yet, let alone sleeping with him.
The next day, it rained buckets. I stayed in bed for most of the morning, only getting out when Marie came to check on me, empty my bedroom trash, and bring me an early lunch around eleven. She asked if I was feeling under the weather, but I said I was just a little sleepy, not really wanting to go into my drama with Reed. Marie seemed to not quite believe me, but once I’d assured her that I really was fine, just a little sleepy because of the rain, which was true, she left, and I ate lunch at a little writing desk in my room, watching the silvery downpour beyond the windows.
That afternoon, I braved the rain to hop in my car and go visit Polly at the coffee shop again. The rain had let up a bit, though, and while I dashed into the shop, an umbrella helped shield me from what was still coming down.
In seeming defiance of the rain, a large sign on the door of the coffee shop, proclaimed Happy Spring! in bright yellow lettering across the top, and Have a Sunny Day! across the bottom in bright green. In the middle, a large daffodil had been painted with a grin, and a few tiny tulips peeked out from behind it.
When I entered the coffee shop, I was greeted by the sight of four small children literally running circles around Polly, each of them waving yellow, green, and pink streamers, shrieking.
Polly looked up at me and grinned, then said she was glad to see me. “You’re just in time for the annual spring decorating of the shop, which will be followed by the first spring Sunday story hour of the season. See, we’re not just a coffee shop, here, but a story time destination as well, since the library is closed on Sundays, and there’s not much else in town for kids to do. And, no pressure if you’re in a rush, but I may need an extra set of hands on deck to help. I sometimes think kids here in Somerset get more excited about the arrival of spring than Christmas.”
I said I’d love to help, and soon Polly and I had the four kids actually hanging streamers various places around the shop instead of just wildly waving them.
Before long, several more kids showed up, and an energetic redhead named Lucy was among them. She seemed to be good friends with Polly, who greeted her with a hug, exclaiming that her double French braids were so cute.
However, after Lucy had bounded away to grab some streamers, Polly spoke to me in a low voice with tears unexpectedly glinting in her eyes. “I always wish that Sean and I had had kids before he died… and I always think that they might have looked like Lucy. See, Sean had red hair almost as bright as hers. Hazel eyes, too.” Before I could respond, Polly suddenly wiped her eyes with the back of her hand and offered me a little smile. “Sorry. Just creeps up on me sometimes… especially when the kids come to visit the shop.”
I said that I understood, and Polly once again wiped her eyes again before speaking.
“Reed’s wrong, you know.”
Confused, I asked her what Reed was wrong about, and she shrugged.
“Just… everything he thinks about Sean’s death.”
I asked her what she meant, and she shrugged again, right before telling me just about everything I needed to understand why Reed was so insistent on being “all business” when it came to our relationship.
CHAPTER NINE
“Reed has probably told you that Sean was killed by the Bloodborn,” Polly started.
I nodded, and she continued.
“Well, I don’t know if he’s told you what he thinks is the real reason Sean was killed, but based on what you’ve told me about how you and Reed are doing… it seems like the two of you maybe haven’t had very many in-depth conversations.”
When I pretty much confirmed this by saying nothing, Polly spoke again.
“He probably doesn’t want me saying all this, but it seems like you deserve to know. See, Reed thinks that what really killed Sean was the fact that Sean was so in love. At the time of his death, we’d been married less than a year, and we were just… wildly, wildly in love. I knew that maybe it had been distracting Sean from doing his job as a shifter a bit, but… really, he was just as strong and as capable as he’d ever been. He was maybe just
happier doing his job.
“Reed kept saying that Sean seemed so distracted, though. And then when Sean was killed, Reed blamed it on the fact that he was so distracted, and I think this is what Reed still blames for Sean’s death… although I wouldn’t really know. Reed and I have barely even spoken since a major blowout a few months after Sean was buried. He basically said that being in love was what had killed Sean, and I basically screamingly said that that was bullshit. Sean died because a group of murderous assholes called the Bloodborn tried to kill him, and they very unfortunately just happened to succeed. No more, no less.”
After a pause to glance over at a group of kids hanging streamers, Polly continued. “Long story short, Reed sent me a letter of apology for saying what he did, but we haven’t talked much since then. I guess I’ve been in my own world of grief over losing my husband, and he’s been in his own world of grief over losing his best friend. Marie has been kind of an intermediary for us sometimes. She still loves Reed like a son, despite what he said.”
Looking over at the kids again, Polly suddenly took a deep breath and turned her gaze back to me. “I’ve probably said way too much, and I didn’t mean to. When my emotions run high, I just babble. Maybe if you don’t mind, just keep what I said between the two of us for now. I’m sure if Reed wants to tell you what he thinks about people being in love, he will.”
I said that he pretty much had. “He’s said that he wants things to be ‘all business’ between us, and now I think I understand exactly why. I think he thinks that if he allows himself to fall in love, it will prevent him from being the leader that I know he prides himself on being. I think that he thinks that it might even lead to his death. I finally get it now.”