Chapter 10 #2
Sensing where he’s going with this, I lift my menu to hide my smile. “Eaten at a diner?” I ask innocently.
“You know that’s not what I mean,” he teases.
He knows I’m being coy, smiling behind my menu. After the mess at Fisher’s house, I didn’t expect to be smiling so soon. But when I remember how little I have, my amusement fades.
“We’ll get them,” Vaden says quietly. “They won’t live long enough to hurt you again. I promise you that.”
I believe him.
I look at the menu, trying to choose which pie to order. The cherry pie smells delicious and brings to mind that Vaden was carrying one when he first saw me and dropped it. “Not since college. I worked a lot, so I didn’t go on many dates."
“Did those dates go well?”
I peek up to find him studying his own menu.
“Yes. My last date went very well. Paul was very nice. He walked me to my door and kissed me goodnight.”
His fingers tighten around the edge of the plastic-covered menu, and I can practically feel the jealousy radiating off him.
“But he wasn’t for me,” I say.
He looks at me. “How’d you know?”
I shrug, setting my menu down and reclining in my seat as I toy with a napkin. “Just did.”
“And me?” he says, eyes locked on me, voice low. “Do I feel like I’m meant for you?”
A woman in a white half-apron stops at our table before I can respond. But I feel his eyes on me, and I know he’s desperate for the waitress to leave so he can hear my answer.
After taking our orders for pie and coffee, she leaves us with a smile, telling us she’ll be back in five minutes.
Vaden doesn’t wait until she’s reached the counter before he leans toward me. “Shelby? Do I feel like I’m meant for you?”
He said that since I’m human, I wouldn’t feel the pull toward him that he feels toward me. But I think I do. I think I’ve been spending my whole life waiting for Vaden Rowe, and no one else would have felt right except him.
Shrugging, I feign indifference. “Not sure yet.”
A brief pause makes me wonder whether he just sniffed out my lie, a skill he’s mastered in surprisingly little time.
“Anything I can do to convince you otherwise?”
I study him, so deeply attracted to him that I never stop wanting to look at him. “Was there a girl back in your pack? One you didn’t date, but one you liked?”
I see the exact moment when he realizes why I’m asking and what it means.
I like you, but I’m not sure I’m ready to tell you how much yet.
His smile is slow to appear, but heart-stoppingly gorgeous. “No, Jane. Just you.”
I have so many questions about his pack, but we’re in a busy diner, and this isn’t a topic we can discuss in public, so we talk about our favorite TV shows, foods, and the parts of ourselves we wouldn’t want to be overheard discussing as we dig into the best cherry pie I’ve tasted in my life.
Nearly an hour later, with our plates empty and after a coffee refill, Vaden shakes his head as I reach for my purse.
“Put your money away, Jane. I’ve got this,” he says.
He pays the waitress and leaves a tip. As he guides me out of the diner, opening the door for me, I have another question for him.
“How come you have money, Vaden?” I ask, stepping out. “Do enforcers get paid?”
He takes my hand automatically, and it feels so good, so natural.
“An enforcer doesn’t get paid. Our… family looked after everyone,” he says, and I replace ‘family’ with ‘pack.’ “No one went without. But when I left to look for Averie, the new guy in charge refused to let me leave without money. It was a lot. More than I expected, and I’ve never needed much to get by. ”
We stroll toward the grocery store so I can tell Mart about the broken front door lock and the trouble I brought to Hardin.
Mart must have noticed us coming because he hurries out of the grocery store in his blue apron with a look of concern on his face before Vaden can reach for the door.
“Shelby!” He engulfs me in a hug. “Are you okay? Fisher told me about the break-in at the house last night, and Marshall stopped by to let me know he was replacing the lock and would drop off the new keys when he was done.”
Surprised by his concern, I look at Vaden wide-eyed while hugging Mart. “I’m fine, uh, I was coming to apologize. Sorry about the door. I didn’t mean to cause any trouble.”
“Trouble!” Mart pulls back to peer down at me. “You could have been hurt. The last thing I care about is a broken lock. Fisher was more worried about you than the door as well.”
“I’m okay. Really.”
“Good.” He looks at Vaden. “You’ll speak with Dayne and find whoever is causing Shelby trouble.”
“Already working on it.” Vaden’s tone is assured.
“Good,” Mart repeats, turning back to me. “You have a job whenever you’re ready to come back to it. It can’t be safe for you to work now, so don’t feel you have to come stock my shelves when you need to prioritize your safety.”
“I just started, Mart. I can’t just—”
“No, I insist,” he gently cuts in. “Your safety comes first. I’ve managed on my own since Fisher stopped working here, and I will continue to be just fine.”
“Okay,” I say, reluctantly agreeing.
If trouble finds me at the grocery store, it will find Mart too, and I can’t let him get hurt because of me.
We say our goodbyes when a customer enters the store, and I promise to let Mart know when the trouble is over and I can come back to work.
Vaden threads his fingers through mine. “Let’s go, Jane.”
I peer over my shoulder toward the grocery store. “Why did he tell you to talk to Dayne about taking care of this trouble? Didn’t that seem rather… pointed?”
Vaden shrugs. “Not sure. But he seemed to think I could handle it.” He glances down the street. “There’s a boutique over there.”
“So there is.” I can’t help but notice him gently leading me toward it. I smile at him because I know what he’s trying to do and I appreciate it, even if I can’t accept his generosity. “You don’t need to buy me new clothes. Pie was great, but a new wardrobe isn’t necessary.”
“I don’t mind buying you clothes, Shelby. In fact, I’d like to spoil you if you let me.”
Sighing, I turn to face him. “I’ve looked after myself for a long time. I’ll be fine.” Blair let me borrow sneakers, and I don’t mind living in sweatpants for the next couple of days until it’s safe to find a Walmart or somewhere a little less pricey than a small-town boutique.
He wants to push, but after giving me a searching look, he nods. “Okay.”
“You looked like you wanted to order. Maybe even growl.” I can’t help but add, “Am I humanizing you, Tarzan?”
He kisses my forehead. “Maybe you are, Jane. Maybe I’m learning that growling and throwing out orders isn’t always the way.”
“The way to do what?”
“Make the people around me happy. Come on. Let’s get back to the house.”