Chapter 16
“Ryder it’s been five minutes. Please say something.”
In the grand scheme of things, five minutes doesn’t seem like a long time.
But I suppose from James’s point of view, it felt like forever.
I was staring at the bottles behind the bar.
“I need you to say it,” I finally said, my voice so quiet it was a miracle he heard me at all.
I looked at him. “If you can meet my eyes and say it without laughing, I’ll believe you. ”
James was as still as a statue. The more I watched him, the more I realized he was too still—he wasn’t breathing. But I’d seen him breathe before.
Though he fidgeted with his hands in his lap, he didn’t break his gaze away from me. “I’m a vampire.”
I didn’t respond, not knowing what to do next. So I returned to studying the bottles behind the bar.
James’s voice cut through the silence. “You want a drink?”
“I’m at work,” I said without thinking. “With my v-vampire boss.” The word felt weird coming out of my mouth.
James stood. “You’re not on the clock.” He ducked behind the bar and grabbed a few bottles off the shelf along with the bowl of dyed sugar.
He was making my drink. I sat back and watched, finally understanding the appeal of the motions.
The muscles in his arms rippled with each move.
The way he slammed the lid onto the cocktail shaker with the heel of his hand made me squirm.
“Tonight,” he continued, “I’m not your boss.
I just dropped one hell of a bomb on you.
It’s an age-old tradition for people to commiserate with the bartender, so tonight that’s all I am.
I know there’s a lot on your mind right now. ”
James finished and pushed the drink toward me, the crystals of the red-dyed sugar catching the light.
I took it, focusing on the chill of the glass against my fingertips.
Eyes closed, I took a deep breath, letting the cold ground me.
I lifted the glass and drained half of it at once, feeling the alcohol burn its way through my system.
By the time I set the drink back down, I was feeling more like my cocky self.
“I’ve got a crush on my vampire boss.”
My eyes were fixed on my drink, but I still saw James stumble and spill his pour. He bent down to grab a towel. “I… um, wow.”
I hadn’t known him for very long, but seeing James flustered was something I never imagined I’d experience. As he picked up the bottle to continue making his own drink, I noticed his hand trembling. A smirk pulled at the corner of my mouth. The ball was in my court, and I loved it.
“Nervous, boss?” I teased. I picked my glass up again, then paused. “Can vampires get nervous?”
He laughed into his drink. If there was ever a time for a vampire to blush, that would’ve been it.
“Is that a stupid question?”
He shook his head. “I won’t judge you for anything you ask me tonight.
” He swirled his drink around, and I took another sip of mine as he spoke again.
“My heart may not beat anymore, but that doesn’t mean I can’t get nervous, or that you don’t make me nervous.
I think it’s a reflex. It’s been a long time since I’ve had feelings for someone. I’ve never had to mask it before.”
“Getting nervous is a reflex?” I polished off my drink, my head beginning to spin from the alcohol.
“More specifically, being nervous in the presence of someone so attractive.”
I warmed at the compliment, my smirk softening into a genuine smile. James retrieved my glass and began to mix another for me.
I traced over a scratch in the surface of the bar. I had so many questions, and I didn’t know where to begin. I’d walked in here intending to keep my head down and finish my shift as quickly as possible, so I could return to sulking in bed—my favorite activity since finding James and Dani together.
“Don’t get bashful on me now, Clark.”
“I don’t do bashful.”
“Mm-hmm.” The look on his face said he didn’t believe me for a second. “Just speak what’s on your mind.”
“What’s the first thing you’d expect someone to ask you?”
He gave me a wry chuckle. “Oh, let me count the ways. Am I part bat? Can I see my own reflection? And my favorite ever since Twilight: can I read minds?”
My eyes widened. “Holy shit, can you?”
He broke into a laugh, his cheek dimpling in a way I hadn’t noticed before. “No. I have some advantages in reading people, but I’m hardly psychic.”
“What kind of advantages?”
James shuffled, recrossing his legs. “For one thing, I’m older than I appear, so I’ve had years and years of practice. For another, I have what my peers jokingly call selective supersonic hearing.”
“Okaaaaay.”
“So I can hear increased heart rates.”
I froze. “Oh?”
“It’s not an exact science. I can tell your pulse is elevated, but I don’t know whether you’re angry, upset,” his voice dipped, “or turned on.”
My skin went from warm to burning. My heart leapt into my throat. I recovered, swallowing hard before I grinned at him and brought my glass to my lips. “Should I apologize?”
The lust—or was that hunger?—in James’s eyes was unmistakable. “Don’t you dare.”
I chuckled, thinking about my next question. “Did you know about Hannah before she showed up here drunk?”
“Ryder Clark, a dad? It’s been the talk of the town for months.”
“Why did you pretend to be surprised?”
He shrugged. “You clearly weren’t ready to talk about it. If you were, you would’ve told me in your interview, when I asked what brought you back to Salem.”
I sipped on my second drink. I stared into the glass, debating whether the vodka and Asti were strong enough to get through this conversation. Before I asked for something stronger, James turned toward the bottles.
“Was I thinking out loud?”
“No,” James chuckled. “I don’t need to be a mind reader to know that you might crave something stronger.”
I protested when he selected a bottle of top shelf scotch. “James, that’s too expensive.”
“I pay for it,” he said, “and I say you can have it.”
“I don’t know what I should ask,” I admitted as I accepted the scotch.
He shrugged. “Anything you want.”
I drank, closing my eyes as the smooth, amber liquid spilled down my throat.
When I looked up again, James was waiting patiently for my next question—even if he did look a bit uncomfortable.
“How old are you?” I finally asked, starting with an easy one.
Or I thought it would be easy. I regretted asking when James mulled over his answer for several long seconds.
“Depends on how you look at it,” he finally said.
I rolled my eyes. “Okay, smartass: what year were you born?”
“1652, or somewhere around there. Birth records were a little spotty back then.”
Wow. “Um, okay.” I didn’t know what else to say, so I turned back to my scotch, drinking as much of it as I could in a single gulp before my eyes started to water.
“Is that a dealbreaker for you?” he asked with a laugh. He joked, but I saw the way he shuffled from foot to foot, eyes darting around the room. He almost looked like he needed to pee.
“Do vampires pee?”
His head snapped up at me, then he tipped it back and laughed. “You’ve a curious mind.”
“That’s not an answer.”
He sipped his drink with a smug expression. “We don’t, but trust me, all of the important bodily functions revolving around that particular organ work as intended.”
I snorted. “Good to know.”
“Many of my supernatural abilities are dampened when I’m feeding, however.” He met my eyes. “To give you even more peace of mind.”
He meant with Dani. “Dani agreed to, um, be a blood donor?”
“Of course. We’ve had an arrangement for a while now. It doesn’t benefit just me; a vampire’s saliva has healing properties. No puncture marks like the movies.”
A light clicked on in my head. “So that’s how she recovered from being sick so quickly.”
James nodded.
“How old were you when…” I pushed off the stool and rounded the bar, passing under the partition to lean against the counter next to James, my drink behind me.
“When I turned?” He finished for me. “Thirty-eight.”
I was no longer looking at James. Well, not his face anyway.
Instead, I was interested in the small gap separating our hips.
He was a step to my left, arms crossed over his chest. My hand rested on the counter behind me, mere millimeters from brushing his side.
He shifted again, pulling my eyes down to where his jeans hugged his hips.
He recrossed his right foot over his left, pulling that fabric even tighter around his gorgeous frame.
My mouth watered, my grip tightening on the counter until my knuckles turned white.
“Ryder?”
“Hm?” With every available ounce of strength in my body, I forced my eyes back up to meet his.
“You never answered my question.”
“Which question?” I was surprised I could remember my own name at that point. My eyes were fixed on his, glued to them as if a magnet pulled them together. My bottom lip stung as my teeth dug into it.
“Is my age—my true age—a dealbreaker for you?”
I took another deep breath and forced myself to focus. We’d never be able to get through this conversation if I couldn’t get it together. “If anything would be a dealbreaker, it’d be the vampire thing itself.”
“Fair enough.” James’s entire body relaxed when he laughed, smile lines creasing the corners of his eyes. Actually, as I looked—and trust me, I did; those eyes were fucking intoxicating—that same red hue swirled around his irises.
“Your eyes.”
“What about them?”
“They’re red again. It happened before, in the kitchen. Does it always happen, and I’ve just never noticed?”
He shook his head, glancing down at his feet. I placed a finger under his chin and directed his eyes back to mine. Had he wanted to fight me, I knew damn well he could have, but he let me. “My eyes change color when I feel a strong emotion.”
I finished off my scotch, blaming the alcohol for the heat that washed through my body.
I faced James, slimming the distance between us.
My hand stayed on the counter, though I desperately wanted to touch him, to feel his skin under my fingertips, his body on mine.
“What are you feeling right now?” My voice was low, raspy.
James’s eyes flitted down to my lips before returning to mine. His irises were deep red, any evidence of chocolate brown hidden beneath a vibrant crimson. “I really like you, Ryder,” he rumbled.
I studied his lips, the perfect curve of his cupid’s bow stunningly accented by the fullness of the pouty bottom lip that had been fixed between his teeth for most of the night.
“Then do something about it,” I dared him. For weeks I’d been fantasizing about the man in front of me, and damn it, I wasn’t going to wait any longer. If he wouldn’t do it, then I’d take matters into my own hands.
The corner of his mouth pulled into a smoldering grin. “Not going to chicken out again?”
My eyes narrowed in response to his teasing.
Not a chance. My hand left the counter and I grabbed him by the back of the neck and hauled him into the hot, blistering kiss I’d been craving.
The initial chill from his lips sent shockwaves through my body, but it was chased off by the electricity coursing through my veins.
He grasped at the nape of my neck, fingers twisting into my hair while his other hand found my hip.
He pulled, closing the distance between our bodies as I teased that sexy-as-hell bottom lip.
I sighed into his mouth when his lips parted for me. I sank my teeth into his lip, earning a low growl from him.
“Don’t stop,” he snarled when I backed off.
I smiled, and he pulled me back in. We grasped for any piece of each other we could get our hands on.
I gripped his t-shirt, cursing the thin layer of fabric separating me from his bare skin.
My hand wandered over his chest and stomach, and his hand tightened on my hip.
We spun, and he effortlessly lifted me up, wedging himself between my legs.
Bottles on the shelf behind me clattered, threatening to fall as my ass hit the counter.
As my lips parted on a moan, James speared his tongue into my mouth to tangle with mine.
I tugged his waist to bring him closer, though every inch of his hard, chiseled body already pressed into me—right down to the bulge of his cock straining against his zipper. My own throbbed, pushing a whimper past my lips.
James broke the kiss, chuckling as I chased him for more while attempting to catch my breath. “We should slow down.”
“Why?” I panted, leaning in for another kiss. He ducked out of the way. “Slow is no fun.”
James’s flat hand pushed me gently back. “Because I don’t think me taking you right here where anyone could see is a good idea for business.”
“Speak for yourself,” I grumbled. “That’s hot.”
“Go home,” he said with a smile. “Wait for me. I promise I’ll make it worth it.”
I groaned and collapsed against the shelf behind me. With my eyes closed, I focused on my breathing in an attempt to bring myself down.
James’s voice cut through the silence. “Are you okay?”
“Mm-hmm. But if you aren’t going to do anything about this right now,” I gestured to my lap, “I need to calm myself down.”
At that, James’s smile widened. I felt his hand trail up my leg, teasing the skin there and tickling the inside of my thigh before he landed on my belt.
“James, that’s not helping!” My last word turned into a yelp as he shoved his hand under my shirt, icy palm pressing on my stomach. I squirmed under his grip, but his fingers still worked their way below my beltline. “Fuck, that’s cold! You’re not always that cold! How are you doing that?”
With a laugh, he moved his hand. “I’ll explain that later. It worked?”
“If your goal was to get me to hate you,” I pouted. “Yes, it did. You’d better not make me wait too long.”
James took my hand, guiding it between his legs and silently instructing me to squeeze the rock-hard bulge I found there that made me squirm. “The longer you wait, the longer I have to wait. I’ll be quick, I just have some stuff to finish up here and I have to stop at home first.”
I was still fighting to catch my breath. I released the grip I had on him. “Promise?”
He leaned in until his lips were brushing mine. “Promise.” He sealed the word with a kiss so sweet, so tender, that I had to be the one to break it off before I got too hot again. “Go home, love.”
I fought off a chill. Damn, this man. I stole another kiss before hopping off the counter and making for the door.