Chapter 5 – Presley
PRESLEY
For the first week after my daughter was drugged at a party and rescued by a motorcycle club, I was a nervous wreck.
Every time I heard a car outside, I assumed it was the police coming back to talk to us, or worse, someone coming to exact retribution.
By the end of the second week, when we hadn’t heard a word from anyone, I started to calm down.
Ariel’s classmate still hadn’t been found, so I remained on alert, but not to the extent that every sound made me tense and brace for the worst. Or so I thought.
Ariel was spending the weekend with her grandparents—a trip that had been planned for months—and I didn’t have to work.
I was fine for the first hour or two after she left, but then the paranoia started creeping in.
I don’t know why, but I couldn’t stop worrying about someone coming to retaliate.
Finally, I decided the best thing to do to keep my mind from wandering was to occupy my time.
There was a recipe I’d been wanting to make, but Ariel didn’t like most of the ingredients in it, so I thought it would be a good time to try it.
That also meant I had to go to the grocery store since I didn’t have the majority of the ingredients on hand.
I hated going to the grocery store, but it was too late to place an order for pickup or delivery.
Sighing, I grabbed my keys and headed to the store.
The way I shopped was different from most people.
While the majority entered the store and went to the right to the produce section, I went to the left and started at the other end of the store.
Why? So, I didn’t get stuck shopping the same aisles with some inevitably annoying person and their gaggle of unruly children, which was exactly what I was hurrying away from when I rounded the corner of an aisle and plowed my cart into another person.
“Ooof,” the man grunted.
“I am so sorry! Are you okay?” I asked and stepped around my cart to check on him.
“Presley?” a familiar, deep voice asked.
“Ink,” I said as my mortification doubled. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” he chuckled. “I’m surprised to run into you like this.”
Kill me now.
“Sorry,” I repeated. “I should have been paying more attention.”
He stepped to the side. “I don’t want to keep you. Seems like you were in a hurry.”
“Not really,” I said as one of the kids from the other aisle appeared and knocked over a large display of canned goods while screaming at the top of his lungs. “I was trying to get away from that.”
“Yeah, I can see why,” he said and ushered me to the produce section. “How’s Ariel?”
“She’s good. She hasn’t remembered anything from that night, but she’s okay otherwise. How are Blaze and Raven?”
“Same. They haven’t remembered anything and are quite pissed about it,” he said and gestured to my cart. “Do you two have dinner plans?”
“Oh, no. Ariel’s spending the weekend with her grandparents, and I didn’t have anything to do, so I thought I’d try this new recipe to keep myself occupied,” I rambled.
He nodded and studied me for a few moments. “Is everything okay?”
“Yeah,” I said and tried to laugh nonchalantly, but it came out like a croaking gasp. Covering my face with my hands, I shook my head and admitted, “I’ve been a little jumpy since the incident.”
“Did something else happen?”
“No, nothing like that. I’m just one of those people who tends to think the worst-case scenario will happen.”
“What’s the worst case look like for you?”
“I don’t know,” I shrugged. “Men showing up at my house in the middle of the night to kill me and my daughter for talking to the police.”
“That won’t happen,” he said with confidence. “I wish my word was enough to make you feel better, but I know it’s not. I also don’t think you should spend the evening alone.”
“You don’t?”
“Nope,” he grinned. “Spending time with someone else and talking it out, maybe over dinner, is always good for the soul.”
“Are you inviting yourself to have dinner with me?” I teased.
“I’m really trying not to, but you’re not making it easy.”
I laughed and acquiesced. “Would you like to join me for dinner? I can’t promise it’ll be good, or even edible.”
“I’d love to,” he said, feigning surprise. “Thank you for asking. What time should I be there?”
“Whenever. I was going to start cooking as soon as I got home.”
“You sure? I don’t want to inconvenience you.”
“I’m sure.” If I’d known he was coming over for dinner, I would have worn something different and probably refreshed my makeup, but he’d already seen me, so there was no point in delaying dinner just so I could improve my appearance.
After I grabbed the last few things I needed, he followed me to the register. Then, while I was preoccupied with bagging my groceries at the self-checkout, the sneaky bastard paid the total. When I went back to the screen to pay, he handed me the receipt with a shrug. “You’re cooking, so I paid.”
I opened my mouth to protest, and he shook his head. After a few awkward moments, I finally asked, “What if it’s bad?”
He laughed. “Then you can pay half. How’s that?”
“Fine,” I agreed. “But you can’t say it’s good if it really isn’t.”
“Deal,” he said and pushed the cart toward the door. “Where are you parked?”
Once the groceries were loaded into my car, he followed me to my house. I spent the entire drive trying to get a handle on the giddiness attempting to take over while simultaneously wondering what in the hell I was doing.
When we arrived at my house, he insisted on carrying the groceries inside, and I didn’t object. I hated every aspect of grocery shopping. If there were a way to have the food magically restocked without any effort on my part, I’d happily pay extra for it.
“Would you like a glass of wine?” I asked.
“Sure, if you’re having one.”
“I am. Do you prefer red or white?”
He shrugged. “Either is fine. I’m not a big wine drinker, but Daphne likes it, so I sometimes have a glass of whatever she’s having.”
“Oh,” I said, immediately wondering who in the hell Daphne the wine drinker was. “Do you know what kind she likes?”
“Not a clue. I could text her and ask,” he said.
I waved my hand dismissively. “I’ll just open a bottle of my favorite. If you don’t care for it, I have some others to choose from.”
“Unless it’s something really out there, I’m sure it’ll be fine,” he said and lowered his voice. “They all kind of taste the same to me.”
I laughed at his confession. “That’s probably because she only drinks a certain kind.” I opened a bottle and poured him a glass. “Here. Try this.” I watched intently as he brought the glass to his lips and took a sip. And holy shit, the man had a sexy mouth.
“That’s good,” he said, setting the glass down and licking his lips. “You said this is your favorite?” At my nod, he pulled out his phone and snapped a picture of the bottle. A few moments later, his phone dinged with a text. “Daphne wants to know where she can find that wine.”
“Oh, it’s from the winery downtown. I used to work with the woman who owns it,” I said, and started chopping the vegetables.
“Do you need any help?” he asked.
“Not at the moment,” I said and took a sip of wine. I was dying to ask who Daphne was, but I didn’t want to seem nosy … or, well … jealous.
I was trying to think of something to ask him about himself when his phone dinged with another message.
He smiled broadly and held the phone out to show me.
I looked at the photo of the adorable baby on the screen, as well as the accompanying message that said, “Hello, Uncle Ink,” before I glanced at the top of the screen to see who the text was from—Daphne. “Aw, she’s precious. How old is she?”
“Four months,” he said.
“And she’s your niece?” I asked.
“Technically, she’s my goddaughter. Her dad is like my brother, so they refer to me as Uncle Ink,” he explained.
“Do you have any kids?”
“No, but I hope to one day,” he said.
I swallowed wrong and coughed a horrible hacking cough that made my face turn red and my eyes water. To my surprise, Ink remained where he was sitting and waited until I stopped coughing to ask, “Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” I said, sounding hoarse. “I think so.”
My face conveyed my confusion without my consent, causing him to chuckle. “Don’t look at me like that. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve heard Gabby say, ‘If they’re making noise, they’re moving air. Leave them alone unless the noise stops.’”
“She’s not wrong,” I said.
“She usually isn’t, but don’t tell her I said that.”
“She was great with Ariel and the girls. We don’t see Dr. Vaughn as much as we used to now that he has his own practice, but he was always great to work with in the ER.”
His forehead wrinkled in confusion. “Oh, Patch,” he said. “Yeah, he’s a good guy and a great doctor.”
“I’m glad I wasn’t working the night he got shot. It’s different when it’s someone you know.”
“Yeah, that was a tough night, but it turned out okay,” he said. “Were you working when Daphne came in with the mushroom poisoning?”
“That was your friend?”
“Yep.”
“I was there, but she wasn’t my patient. I was a little disappointed that she wasn’t assigned to me. We don’t get stuff like that very often. I assume she’s doing okay now?”
“She’s fine. She was sick as hell for a few weeks, though.”
“I bet. I read a little bit about mushroom poisoning after she came in. I had no idea killer mushrooms were so prevalent.”
“I think that’s true for a lot of people. It certainly was for us,” he said.
“I’m glad she made a full recovery,” I said and started pulling out the pots and pans I needed for dinner.