3. Three
Three
O f course Ryker had known what Leslie looked like before today. She’d posted a new reel on social media within the last few weeks. But in person? In person she was stunning. Becoming more attractive with age was a vampire thing. None of them looked their best at twenty; their apex nature wasn’t finished developing yet. Thirty was their prime—a prime they stayed in for the full millennium of their typical lifespan. And Leslie certainly had reached hers.
Her lavender top was feminine, a little frilly in places it didn’t need to be. Her jeans were embroidered on the sides of her hips with pretty white flowers. Her artfully silver hair and violet-blue eyes were a knockout combination. She was slim the way all vampires tended to be, something about a metabolism that subsisted entirely on blood and took very little energy to keep running at their average body temperature of 68 degrees. Any vampire alive could out-lift any human without effort, but a vampire would never bulk up the way some humans could, even if they weight-trained for the next hundred years.
Leslie was more than attractive, though. She was interesting. And she was his ideal match.
He wished she’d agreed to the Italian restaurant over a noisier, cheaper place. He’d wanted to treat her to something special. At the Harmony Ridge diner, she had the menu memorized.
Oh well. The whole point tonight was to make her comfortable with his unexpected arrival, not to show off. “Slow the roll, son.” He’d heard that advice from his dad countless times.
When he set aside his menu, Leslie said, “Questions for the local? Or are you confident in your choices?”
“Hmm, good point. Is the beef grass-fed?”
Leslie cocked one eyebrow at him. Those were silver too, not dark the way some women left them despite dyeing their hair. The uniformity was pleasant. “It’s not. The venison’s local, though.”
“Can I get a venison steak? Or do I have to eat it ground into hamburger?”
“You’ll have to ask about that. I’ve never ordered steak here.”
“Why not?”
“I prefer my meat ground into hamburger. Plus the job that pays my bills is head waitress at a steakhouse in the next town, so I’m kind of over steak.”
Ryker blinked. Kept his mouth shut with effort.
“Did you think I’m a full-time artist?”
“Uh…yeah, I guess I did.”
“Maybe someday, but probably not. Artists starve, you know.”
His thoughts were tumbling down a mountainside, post-earthquake. Would she hate that he had money?
The server came with their waters, and he tried to ask questions without sounding like…well, like an apex predator who liked his meat just so. Venison steak wasn’t on the printed menu, but there was a limited supply if you knew to ask.
When the server walked away, Leslie smiled with a hint of mischief. “She probably thinks you’re a wolf.”
“Why?”
“Venison is the only protein I’ve ever overheard them order.”
He shook his head. “Something you said earlier… It sounded like your family are the only vampires in Harmony Ridge.”
“Yep. Just the three of us.”
“Because of the wolf pack?”
“Oh, I don’t know. It’s just how things are here. But yeah, when I went away to college, I’d never met a vampire outside my family, and now that I’m back home, it’s just us again.”
“What about your extended family?”
“That’s a touchy subject. I grew up seeing my dad’s people, still do occasionally when we visit Knoxville. But my mom’s relatives are like…off limits.”
Wow. He sipped his water. Stalling? More like contemplating.
“What?” she said.
“Our life experiences are sort of opposite.”
“You have a lot of vampires in your life?”
“My best friend. My wider friend circle, about a third of my work colleagues.”
Leslie’s mouth pursed around the straw of her water glass, but she stared at him rather than sipping. “That’s so weird.”
He shrugged. “Ditto. Do you actually socialize with wolves?”
“No. My best friend is human. And my coworkers, acquaintances—all human.”
He nodded. That made sense. Everyone knew wolves and vampires were natural enemies, or naturally aloof toward each other at the very least. But Leslie frowned at him.
“I don’t hang out with wolves, but I am civil to them, and they’re civil to me.”
“Huh.” Her frown was fast morphing to a glare, and he lifted his hands. “I’m sorry. I don’t have experience with this at all, and I didn’t know it was possible.”
“Why, because of ‘odor-sensitive’ vampires? That’s nonsense, Ryker. I’ve been surrounded by humans and wolves all my life. I don’t get to be ‘sensitive.’ It’s another form of prejudice if you ask me.”
Ryker sat back in the booth and draped his arms across it. Despite knowing a fair bit about her thanks to her test answers, Leslie Snow was unexpected. Challenging assumptions he’d held all his life, and he’d known her for less than two hours.
“What?” Leslie said.
“I’m willing to rethink the rest of it, but sensitive vampires do exist. I know one personally.”
Their food arrived, and Leslie dug into her diner-signature “messy burger” with the gusto of a starving human. Ryker’s venison steak was better than he’d anticipated, as were his baked potato and crispy brussels, but her ravenous ecstasy was next level.
“And I thought I loved to eat,” he said.
Her hands froze halfway to her mouth, and her eyes flared pure violet. “Should I apologize for enjoying my food?”
“Um, what?”
“Look, this might be my first date in a while, but you need to know now that I’m not going to stuff myself into a box for you. I enjoy food, and I enjoy a whole lot of simple things, and—”
Ryker raised his hands in surrender. “Sorry. I don’t know you well enough yet to tease you.”
The fire banked in her eyes, and she nodded. “Fair enough. I might be the slightest bit defensive thanks to the world at large assuming as a single thirty-year-old woman I must be abjectly miserable.”
“Well, I’m sorry about that too.”
“And just a reminder, I haven’t been waiting for my backup husband. I’ve been single by choice for a few years. You’ve got your work cut out for you.”
“I’m up to the challenge.”
“And so humble.”
He laughed, and she smiled, and he wanted to kiss her. He’d never felt attraction like this before—wanting to take her mouth with his, to talk to her into the next morning, to run his fingers through that abundant silver hair, to show her he was worth her time, to be there for her any way she wanted, any way she needed. It was a multi-faceted bloom of desire in his chest, new and stunning. He had to take care not to make a mistake. He’d shown up uninvited. Now he had to prove himself worth an invitation.
He said, “Will you tell me why you haven’t felt like dating?”
“It’s nothing dramatic,” Leslie said. “I’ve dated some, mostly in college. When I moved back to Harmony Ridge, I connected with a few guys via apps, since I don’t have local options. But I don’t know that it was always for healthy reasons, if that makes sense. I was trying out different relationships, desperate for one to last… When I look back now, I can see the breakups were for the best.”
“And…?”
She shrugged. “And nothing. I’m good now—busy, satisfied. I don’t want to go back to that striving feeling, you know?”
No, he didn’t. In fact he’d never had such a thought in his whole life. Who would he be if he ever stopped striving, achieving? He shook his head. What a puzzle she was. Or maybe she didn’t mean the word the way he did.
Leslie finished her burger with gusto equal to how she’d started it, then said, “Your turn. You said you quit dating two years ago.”
He shrugged. “I decided to wait for the best option. Simple.”
“What if the test isn’t infallible?”
“I’m sure it’s not, but I liked your answers.”
She cocked her head, and the opalescent flecks in her eyes caught the light. “Is it really that simple, or are you evading?”
“I don’t do that,” he said. Yes, two-year-old memories of a certain ruby-eyed woman flashed through his head, but he shut them off. It wasn’t evasion not to spill the story of his worst breakup on a first date. It was common sense.
Leslie cocked one eyebrow. Were his thoughts visible on his face?
“I don’t evade.” This time he might be convincing himself.
“So you waited for me because you’re incredibly romantic. Or incredibly obsessive.”
“Until I got here, I didn’t realize how it would look from your perspective. But I didn’t spend years obsessing, Leslie. I did the relational math, decided to get in contact with you in two years, and in the meantime stopped wasting my time.”
A small smirk tilted her lips. “Efficiency is very important to you.”
“Sure. Straightest path to the desired outcome.”
“Well, I’m more the type to pause on the path and enjoy the view.”
He knew that. Her test answers had hinted at it. But saying so might weird her out, so instead he nodded.
“Okay, forget the test,” she said as though he’d telegraphed his thoughts. “I’m going to treat this like a normal first date. Tell me about yourself.”
“Want to order dessert in the meantime?” He gestured to his plate. “I’ll be finished by the time it comes.”
“Perfect.” Leslie waved down a server with casual friendliness and ordered a slice of chocolate cake. As the server moved away, she said, “Don’t worry. It’s a massive slice, plenty for two people.”
“I’ll taste it, but I’m a meat-and-potatoes guy. I don’t have much of a sweet tooth.”
“Perfect,” she said again.
When he’d finished his steak and the dessert arrived, he ate two bites, not one. Even to a vampire’s palate, the cake was excellent, the chocolate flavor enhanced with exactly the right amounts of espresso and vanilla. But he ceded the rest to Leslie, and she slid the plate to her side of the table without hesitation.
“So, while you enjoy,” he said with a gesture at the rapidly disappearing cake, “anything specific you want to know?”
“First of all, what do you do, and do you like it, and would you ever want to do something else if you could?”
“I’m a forensic accountant. Started out working for a firm, went independent just over a year ago. I investigate organizations and individuals for evidence of financial crime—fraud, embezzlement, laundering, et cetera.”
The fork froze halfway to Leslie’s mouth. “No kidding.”
“Nope.”
“Do you work with the police?”
“Primarily, yes. I’ve worked with insurance companies too, with nonprofits that want to verify their donors are reputable… But at this point most of my work is with law enforcement.”
“You bust white collar criminals for a living.”
“Yep.”
“Do you give testimony? In court, as an expert or whatever?”
“That’s part of the job, yeah.”
“You must be good. Better than average, at least, to go out on your own and also contract with the police.”
He appreciated her conclusion but couldn’t quite figure out how to respond.
“Are you trying not to brag right now?” Leslie said.
“It’s only our first date.”
She gave a quiet laugh. “I want to know. Come on, Ryker, I give you full permission to brag.”
“I love what I do,” he said, “and I’m very good.”
She blinked. “That’s it?”
He shrugged, but he couldn’t help how the smile took over his face. “I’ve worked for the FBI a few times.”
“A few?”
“I’m only thirty. I’m just getting started. I want to help send bad guys to jail for the next hundred years or more.”
“And how’d you get into this? Any connection to your mom’s job?”
“It’s thanks to her job I found out about forensic accounting when I was still in high school. And I’m definitely further along my career path than I’d be without the family name.”
“Maddox?” Leslie took a bite of cake, then nearly choked on it. “Wait. Isn’t there a Senator Maddox from Virginia?”
Here it was. He sighed. “Senator Laurence Maddox. My dad.”
Leslie sipped her water, blinked a few times. “Wow.”
“My dad grew up pretty poor, and he had this vision that I’d have it better. The original plan was that I’d grow up to be a CFO, make a million by thirty. To his credit, when I told him I wanted this, he supported me all the way.”
“So you’re not a millionaire.”
“No.”
She cocked her head. “What are you not saying now?”
If they dated, she’d know eventually. And he’d always believed there was no time like the present—another saying of Dad’s. “I’m financially comfortable. I have investments. Knowing how my dad grew up, I don’t take it for granted.”
“Hmm.” She forked the last bite of cake, then sat still a moment, studying it. She looked up and met his eyes, the final bite still perched on her fork. “It’s nice that you recognize what you have.”
She finished the cake as if the topic were settled. Then she set the fork down and began shaking her head.
“What?” he said.
“Compared to all that… I’m the worst cliché. I’m literally the small-town girl from every rom-com, making ends meet by day and making art by night, having dinner with the parents once a week, getting along with the town wolf pack.”
“I’ve never seen a rom-com that included a wolf pack.”
“Oh, stop.” A smile tugged her mouth, but the light-indigo of her eyes flattened to an even paler shade that looked somehow dingy, mixed with gray. “It doesn’t bother you that my life is so…small?”
“When you put it that way…”
Leslie cast her eyes down and bit her lip.
“…the main thing I’m worried about is that some human guy wearing surprisingly tailored flannel is going to walk through that door and remind you how smitten you were with him in second grade.”
Leslie gaped at him, then burst out in a musical laugh that made his heart thump hard again. “You’re right. In the rom-com, you lose, impressive city career man.”
“Every time.”
“You might have a shot, being a vampire. Except then I’d have to be human. If I had a nickel for every rom-com that pairs the human girl with the vampire guy, I’d be financially comfortable with investments.”
“I wouldn’t be here if you were human, Leslie.”
“You have a whole network of vampire friends and acquaintances, but you want to date some small-town girl?”
“I want to date you .”
She studied him for what felt like an hour. At last she said, “Okay then. Let’s go on as many dates as we can before you have to get back to that epic job of yours.”
“I have three days.” But he already knew three days weren’t enough.
“And no doubt you slept eight hours in preparation.”
“Six.”
Her forehead crinkled. “Don’t you need eight?”
“Nope. Haven’t since I was a teenager.”
“No wonder you live such a productive life.” She was trying to hold in the smile, then shrugged and gave herself permission to show it. “But unlike you, I didn’t know I was going to meet my one true match today, and I’ve been awake for nine days getting ready for the fair between shifts at the restaurant, and I prefer nine hours when I do sleep.”
“But I can take you out again tomorrow, after the fair? Five o’clock?”
“I’d like that.”
Ryker resisted the desire to pump his fist in the air. He was on his way to success in winning Leslie Snow, and he was only getting started.