3. Oz #2
I’ve got the first draft of my business plan open, but I’m struggling to get past the introduction.
Why does Pine Gulch even need a spa? And why me specifically?
I’ve got lots of cash saved up, but I’m hoping a loan can help pay for the buildout.
There’s not a building I can buy on Main, but being downtown is critical, which means I need to buy a space and build something.
Building from the ground up is so pricey.
Renovating would be easier if there was a spot I could do it.
Downtown Pine Gulch just isn’t all that big.
It’s nearly lunchtime before I give up on making progress today. Risking a glance to the back, I see the troll absorbed in his work, blond brows bunched again as he stares at the screen.
Sighing, I shove my notebook and computer in my satchel, closing the worn, curly leather bit through the buckle.
The satchel was a gift from a grandparent who raised me.
I haven’t seen him in a bit, and I need to get home to do that.
The idea of going back home to Rainbow makes my skin crawl, though.
Because going home to Rainbow means risking seeing Saint for the first time since we broke up, and I’m not ready for that.
Looking toward Main, I shiver at seeing the snow’s picked up and is coming down in heavy, pounding droves. That’s not uncommon for Montana in the winter, but it makes flying a lot colder than I’d like. Which means I’ll end up walking everywhere, and really? I prefer to fly.
I’m pondering the shorter coat I brought, wondering if I should leave now, when a handsome male passes by the window. Tall, muscular, slicked-back black hair and piercing crimson eyes. Vampiric house tattoos cover his cheeks and chin, trailing down into a sexily open white collared shirt.
My blood freezes in my veins, breath halting as I blink rapidly, trying to figure out if I summoned him by thought alone…
Saint Ashbourne of House Ashbourne grabs the door to the coffee shop, but before he can open it, something outside stops his progress. Another monster perhaps. He shakes someone’s hand, and it’s then I realize I’ve got about twelve seconds before he comes in here.
Not ready, not ready, not ready!
Scrambling upright, I look around in desperation. Is there time to hide in the kitchen? Shit, he’ll scent me. He’s a vampire. I can’t hide. Not after sitting in this room all morning.
My eyes land on the big green male at my table in the back. Without really thinking, I dart toward him and slide onto the bench seat, shooshing him over.
He whips around and looks at me, nostrils flaring as he lets out an angry-sounding growl. “What the fuck are you doing, gargoyle?”
A bell dings, and, at the front, Saint steps elegantly through the door, eyes focused on the order counter. It’ll be moments before he sees me.
I spin to face the green male, keeping my voice low. “Listen, I need you to pretend to be my boyfriend for a couple minutes. For the love of all that’s holy, I will pay you anything and owe you one, but just pretend you like me, alright?”
His lips purse into a fine line as he scowls at me. “I don’t know what you’re playin’ at, but—”
Someone next to us clears their throat, and it pulls my attention away from the male.
“Oz, imagine my surprise to find you here in this,” Saint Ashbourne smirks down at me, “delightful little establishment.” The way he says “delightful” makes it sound like he can’t wait to wash his hands.
I feign shock, throwing a hand over my heart and praying the green dude will play along for the sixty seconds it’ll take me to extricate myself. “Saint? I almost didn’t recognize you with that gray at your temples.”
A dig. He was always obsessed with keeping his dark hair dark, although prematurely graying isn’t something one needs to worry about, in my opinion. He’d just be hotter.
His smirk falls ever so slightly. “I’m in town for business, but I won’t be here long. We should catch up, Oz, relive old times, perhaps.” He casts another disparaging glance around the room. “Not that there’s anything else to do here.”
The male next to me clears his throat, and Saint’s eyes drift to him. “Who’s this?”
I, uh. Fuck me, I don’t know his name.
“My boo thang,” I manage, batting my lashes as I look over at the troll. “Yeah, we’ve been together for a—well, gosh, honey, I’m not even sure how long now.”
He shoots me a wry look. “Hard for me to keep track. Seems like ages and just a minute all at the same time, don’t it?”
I chuckle and look back at Saint, who’s glancing between us like he’s trying to figure out if we’re serious or not. After a moment where I force myself not to fill the silence, he slides both hands into the pockets of his dark slacks.
“See you around, Oz.” He turns on a dime and disappears gracefully toward the front.
Just like that, the walls I put up around my heart shatter into a million pieces.
When Saint and I were together, I craved a kind word, a gentle action, something to show me he cared for me as deeply as I cared for him.
But those things never came, and eventually I couldn’t take it anymore.
I watch as he departs as gracefully as ever. Gripping my coffee cup, I don’t realize how hard I’m clutching it until the ceramic cracks. Blinking hard, I shove the cup away from me.
“You wanna explain that to me?” The male to my left breaks through my thoughts as he slides a big arm to the back of the bench. His fingers nearly touch my shoulder, and I shudder, shaking my head. I do owe him some sort of explanation, though.
Forcing a thankful smile, I scoot slightly away from him on the bench. “Shitty ex. But for real, thank you for saving my bacon at the last minute. I’ll stop our table war for a week, even two!”
He cocks his head to the side, green eyes drifting down to my mouth and perusing for a moment before scanning back up. “You put me in an awkward position, Cutie Pie. I don’t like it when other males do that.”
I slide off the bench and grab my bag, throwing it over my shoulder. Up close, he smells of winter breeze and pine, and I don’t need to lean in, even though a teensy part of me sorta wants to. “Don’t worry, it won’t happen again…I didn’t catch your name.”
He lifts his chin, looking down his nose at me. “That’s ‘cause you never asked for it before taking what you needed.”
The accusation sparks an uncomfortable feeling in my chest. He’s not wrong. And if I wasn’t totally desperate, I wouldn’t have done it.
When he doesn’t offer his name in the silence that follows, I run a hand through my hair. “May I ask what it is now?”
He snorts and shakes his head. “Don’t think you deserve to know at this point.”
I thrum the table with the fingers of my left hand. “Well, thank you again, He Who Has No Name. You really did save me, and I appreciate that. I honestly would not have thrust myself upon you like that if it wasn’t life or death.”
His only answer is a disgruntled little sound, and he doesn’t look up again.
He must start looking, though, because the base of my wings aches as I leave the coffee shop. It’s like he can reach out and touch me with a look, and all I know is it’s disconcerting. I had that once upon a time with Saint, and I don’t think I’ll want that ever again.