11. Phil #2
Sedrick grunted and tucked his phone and keys into the pockets on his vest. In his typical attire, Sedrick’s clothes were stained but clean. I’d tried to get the stains out, but by now, they were as much a part of the fabric’s weave as the cloth’s fibers. To remove one was to destroy the other.
“It’s not for another couple of days anyway. You need to slow your roll, Dillon, or you’ll burn out before it’s time to go into town.” Sedrick’s words were gruff, but his tenor was indulgent.
Dillon pushed out his lower lip and puffed out his cheeks while he argued, “No, I won’t.”
Sedrick chuckled and ruffled his nephew’s hair. “No, probably not. You’ve got more energy than the rest of us combined.”
Dillon slapped his uncle’s hands away and patted down his hair. Dillon’s embarrassed flush belied his supposed annoyance when he whined, “Stop that, Uncle Sed.”
As far as I knew, the kids hadn’t been away from the house in well over two weeks, making me wonder if they’d left since arriving.
Bouncing Ruthie on my hip, I asked, “You’re going into town? When?”
Sedrick had groceries delivered biweekly. The only place I’d seen him go to was the mine he owned.
“Two days. There are some things we need to look for—some new clothes for the kids, things for the house, plants for the garden.” Sedrick frowned when his eyes strayed to the weed patch in the back of the house.
Yesterday, a gnome was brave enough to come up to the house.
I caught it peeking in the window and jumped.
I’d barely contained a scream. It was more the shock of its boldness than fear of the gnome itself.
The little pest had bared its rows of needle-sharp teeth at me before it launched off the window and darted back into the weeds.
Gnomes were typically half a foot tall, more or less. This one looked bigger, and I didn’t like the implications.
“Any word on when the exterminators can get here?” It was a touchy subject and instantly soured Sedrick’s mood.
“No.” Sedrick sounded just as grumpy as always.
I was beginning to understand. Gnomes didn’t usually show themselves, not in the daylight like the one yesterday did.
Most likely, it was looking to increase its territory.
And the only reason gnomes did that was if they needed more space for their colony.
I had a horrible suspicion there were a lot more of them out there than we’d initially thought.
“Did you tell them you’re concerned about the kids?”
Ruthie kicked her legs. I’d learned that was her signal that she wanted down.
“That might move you up on their priority.”
“I’m not afraid of those gnomes.” Dillon fisted his hands and settled them heavily on his hips. He looked about as fierce as a seven-year-old could.
“It’s not about fear, Dillon.” Sedrick squatted so he could look his nephew in the eyes. “It’s about being cautious. No reason to poke at their nest if you don’t need to. There’s a fine line between being brave and being stupid.”
When Dillon crossed his arms over his chest, I figured he wasn’t convinced.
Regardless, Sedrick stood and walked to the front door.
A slight inclination of his head told me he wanted me to follow.
I walked out the door with him, and he shut it behind us.
Werewolf hearing was excellent, and he wanted to be beyond Dillon and Ruthie’s curious ears.
“I hadn’t thought of that, Phil. I’ll call the exterminators today and tell them about our Peeping Tom gnome and that I’ve got a couple of were children I’m concerned about.” Sedrick ran his fingers through his thick beard.
“I don’t know if it will work, but it might be worth a try.” It was all I could think of. I sure as hell didn’t have any pull with anyone, let alone gnome exterminators.
“It’s a good idea.” An edge of Sedrick’s lips ticked up, and my belly did acrobatic flips.
My time with Sedrick Voss had done nothing to dissuade my libido that he was just about the most handsome thing my grass-green eyes had ever landed on.
Sedrick’s love for his niece and nephew only added to that warm, jiggly feeling.
It was completely inappropriate and just as pointless.
Werewolves weren’t attracted to pixies. At least not typical pixies.
I thought Sedrick liked me well enough, but in a way, it wasn’t the real me.
Sedrick liked the harsh fabrics, clunky boots, and tucked-away hair.
Those things weren’t me. Not really. They were the me I had to be to do a job I was not only desperate for but loved. They were a means to an end but hardly the true me. Sedrick Voss might not be disgusted by the true Philodendron, but that hardly meant he’d find that version attractive.
My dismal thoughts tried to dampen my inner joy. They succeeded, too, at least a little. But I wouldn’t let them destroy the good I’d found.
“You’re going into town in two days? Is that right?” I tried to mentally change the topic.
“Yeah, and as you can see, Dillon is over the moon about it. I think Ruthie is too, but I also think she’s warier than Dillon.” Sedrick shrugged. “I’m starting to pick up on her body language more, but I still feel lost a lot of the time, wondering what she thinks.”
I knew how Sedrick felt. Without thought, I ran my fingers along the length of his arm. I would have comforted Peaches the same way. The difference between the two was that Peaches would have leaned into the touch. Sedrick yanked his arm away, stuttered out a form of goodbye, and walked away.
If I hadn’t already figured out what Sedrick thought of me before, I knew now. Werewolves weren’t averse to touch, but mine sent him running. I stared at my hand, wondering what kind of pixie poison Sedrick was afraid of.