Chapter 23
Twenty-Three
Over the next two weeks, Claire saw Tai less frequently.
He’d gotten busy at work with several events to coordinate, none of them as formal as the gala they’d attended together.
For each event, Tai picked her up at her condo, wearing tailored black suits livened up with bold ties—sapphire, tangerine, emerald, bright plum.
Claire played a game with herself of guessing the color of his tie before he came to her door.
She glammed up in cocktail dresses of blush-pink, lavender, and sage, all of which set off her dark hair and indigo eyes.
She got to wear her favorite sparkly heels.
She recognized faces now, conversed on her own terms. Darlene remained her favorite person of all Tai’s colleagues.
She still enjoyed watching him take a stage, own a room with his communication skills and passion. She wasn’t sure this would ever get old.
Of course he wanted to spend both Saturdays with her, and she hated telling him no the night of her next mission as Verena the Vigilant.
But falling in love wasn’t allowed to distract her from justice.
If only he could know what she was doing that night…
he’d understand. He might even offer his support.
But he couldn’t know. Not yet.
Instead of Tai, when she headed home at three a.m., she texted Nova.
Good morning, worrywart. No interest. On my way home.
Nova: Okay. I know you don’t think this is necessary, so I appreciate that you texted anyway.
It is absolutely unnecessary, but you’re pushy because you love me.
Nova: Correct. Good night, you impressive force of womanhood.
Back atcha, babes.
Nova sent a row of laughing emojis, which was fair as, in their entire friendship, Claire had never before called her “babes.”
Not being alone with this mission, even if only through a brief check-in afterward, felt strange but not terrible. Not great though, as long as some stubborn attachment inside her wished she could send a second text to her boyfriend.
For those two busy weeks at Tai’s work—the one Saturday excepted—Claire and Tai spent all the time they could together, often at his condo or hers. Still, when his last event was finished, relief rolled over her. The next morning, he texted before seven.
Tai: What would you like to do for our next date? Choose anything, and we’ll do it.
Claire finished opening the bar and weathered the morning rush before texting him back. She’d thought she’d need more time to come up with ideas, but instead she knew within ten minutes exactly where she wanted to go with him.
How do you feel about horses? Be honest.
Tai: Curious. I’ve never been around them.
But the idea of them doesn’t scare you?
Tai: Nah. You want to go riding?
I’d really love to. Here’s my usual place, if you want to check it out.
She sent Tai the link to Warbler Ranch, and he sent a thumbs-up. In a few minutes, he texted again.
Tai: How about this Saturday? I can reserve a trail ride for us from 10:00-12:00.
That sounds great. But I wasn’t thinking you’d pay for both of us.
Tai: Claire Elisabeth. Don’t be ridiculous.
A smile stole onto her face. She loved it when he used her middle name. He still rolled his eyes when she used his, but she’d caught his smirk, so she knew it didn’t bother him.
I never want to assume, that’s all. Trail riding is on the expensive side, as hobbies go.
Tai: Assume I can afford it, whatever “it” is.
I know you can.
She couldn’t quite explain her lingering reticence. Maybe it was stubbornness, but she’d been on her own so long, capable and independent. Maybe allowing him to pay felt like giving something up.
Tai: Is there more to it?
A little laugh escaped her. Of course, he was tuned in even over text.
This might be a single woman thing. I was single a long time and I’m comfortable knowing nobody but me is going to pay my way.
I think it feels like I’m surrendering a little of that self-sufficiency when you pay for anything bigger than dinner.
It might not be a single woman thing, it might be a Claire thing, lol. It also might be stupid.
He didn’t respond for a minute. Then she saw three dots: he was typing. He typed for a while.
Tai: Not stupid.
All that typing for two words? Oh, he was typing again.
Tai: Whether it’s just you or it’s a lot of long-term single women, I don’t want to minimize it. Your feelings matter always. I do enjoy paying. But not to take anything from you, only to give you whatever I have to give, and I happen to have money.
Claire touched the block of text on her screen as if she could reach through it and touch him. His sincerity pulsed in every word. The tension across her shoulders, which had latched on when she saw his earlier text, let go all at once. She began typing.
To be clear you’ve never made me feel this way. It was part of me before we ever met. But I appreciate you hearing me out. And I think I’m okay with it now. I think I just needed to say it and hear you say that’s not what this is while also not getting pushy or offended.
Tai: Good.
Turns out, I really trust you, Tai Aksel.
And I love you. She hadn’t said it yet. She’d almost bitten his neck, which was a louder declaration than anything she could ever say to him. But she wanted the right moment to say the words too. Soon.
On Saturday, Claire dressed practical: jeans, a pink-and-blue-plaid button-down shirt, and the heelless leather ankle boots she always wore when riding.
She threw a jacket into her car just in case the breeze picked up enough to make a vampire chilly despite the seventy-degree, sunny forecast. Then she drove over to pick Tai up at his place.
If they weren’t going to one of his formal work events, they tended to alternate driving, since they both enjoyed it.
He strode up to her car wearing dark-wash jeans, sturdy work boots, and a royal-purple Keane hoodie. Tuxedo or band-merch hoodie and jeans—Tai Kristiansen was equally attractive in both. The minute he shut the passenger door, Claire leaned across the console, and he leaned too, and they kissed.
“Missed you,” he said.
“You saw me two days ago.”
“Exactly.”
She leaned in for another kiss. “Missed you too.”
“So,” Tai said when they finally stopped kissing long enough for Claire to start driving, “when did you last go horseback riding?”
“It’s been about four months, which means I’m past due. I like to go at least once a quarter.”
They talked the whole way there, mostly about a recently released folk album they’d both been listening to—dissecting stories and ideas in the lyrics, analyzing the individual music tracks.
Though he’d once considered a degree in music, Tai never wrote off her musical opinions when they differed from his.
Sometimes one of them convinced the other; sometimes they agreed to disagree.
Before she knew it, she was parking in the gravel customer lot in front of the ranch office.
They checked in and signed release forms, then went to the barn to meet their guide—and their horses.
Approaching a barn full of horses always made Claire feel like a girl again.
She bounced up on her toes once, and Tai laughed in a way that enjoyed her silliness, didn’t make fun of it.
Their guide was human, a woman around twenty-five years old with an auburn braid down her back, wearing knee-high black riding boots, jodhpurs, and a yellow Warbler Ranch T-shirt.
“Hi, I’m Kayla, and I’ll be your trail guide for today. You’re Tai and Claire, right?”
“That’s us,” Claire said.
“I didn’t know y’all were vampires. That makes my job a lot easier,” she said with a chuckle.
“Sorry, how so?” Tai said. “I’ve never ridden before.”
“Don’t worry, I won’t put you on a bucking bronco, but I’ve never had a vampire guest lose their seat yet. I think it’s your better balance? Plus horses seem to want to make you happy from the minute they meet you.”
Kayla was all smiles as she explained, but she didn’t seem awestruck.
If Claire had to bet, she’d say Kayla knew a few vampires in her personal life as well as from work interactions.
That was nice. Encountering a random human who fawned always felt itchy, wrong, as if Claire had been handed a huge burden of power she didn’t want or know what to do with.
In the barn, she went straight to the stall of her long-time favorite, hoping he wasn’t out on the trail with someone else. The big black gelding snorted when he saw her.
“Hey, Pitch. Long time no see.”
“You’re welcome to ride Pitch if you’re familiar with him,” Kayla said.
“Yes please,” Claire said. “I haven’t been here in a while, but we’ve always gotten along.”
“Why are you calling him Pitch?” Tai said. “The plaque on the door says Sonny’s Blues Lick.”
“Oh,” Kayla said, “that’s his registered name. Pitch is his barn name.”
“Horses have two names?”
Claire nodded. “Think of it as their legal birth certificate vs. the nickname everybody calls them at home.”
Tai’s mouth opened in an impressed O. He turned to address the horse. “Well, thanks for the education, Pitch.”
The horse snorted and bobbed his head in Tai’s direction.
“So, Pitch for Claire, and for Tai, who has never ridden a horse before…” Kayla’s eyes widened in mock dismay, and Tai laughed.
He and Claire followed her to a stall across the dusty aisle. Inside stood a chestnut pinto slightly taller than Pitch. Her stall plaque bore the name Memento In Vino.
“Okay, I know what a blues lick is, but this one’s a riddle,” Tai said. “Remember the Wine? What kind of name is that for anything, much less a horse?”
Claire shrugged. “Registered names can get pretty random and/or cryptic.”
“We call her Magpie,” Kayla said. “She’s a good height for your long legs, and I’d recommend her for a vampire novice. Not as docile as some, but she’s not going to test you either.”