Chapter Four
Vi stared at him like he was the biggest idiot in the world.
Nick valiantly fought the urge to flee the hospital and never return.
The other stares didn’t help: Chester, drugged to the gills and openly offended Nick thought he was good enough to do anything in his shop; Dr. Gert, surprised and faintly amused; and last but not least, Jasper goddamn Dawn.
The vampire had a huge grin on his stupid, smug face, leaning on his broom like he was perfectly content to stand there and watch whatever trouble Nick had squirmed into this time.
“No,” Vi said, almost successfully hiding her obvious contempt in blank politeness. “I didn’t steal your phone. It’s right here.”
She dug in a hidden skirt pocket and came out with his phone.
“Thanks,” Nick said. “I was going to call the cops on you, but I didn’t have my phone.”
Vi just stared at him. Jasper snorted.
Nick grimaced. “Joke! That was a joke. I’d never call the cops on you.”
Dr. Gert coughed, scratching one of her horns. “Alrighty! We’ll leave you alone to talk. Come on.”
Jasper moved only after Dr. Gert grabbed his elbow, but it took a second of struggling that would have been better suited to a playground than a hospital room.
Nick glared at him, and Jasper widened his eyes toward him, then Vi, in a way that let Nick know he was in for it when they saw each other next.
“See you at the bar,” Jasper whispered as he passed.
Nick didn’t answer. He had been thinking about going to Sour Claw sometime this week.
He was rethinking his choices now that he knew that bloodsucker would be there, perched on the edge of a barstool like a handsome, long-haired gargoyle, waiting to pull every detail out of him about what the hell that was about.
The door closed, leaving the hospital room in awkward silence.
“Right,” Vi said, turning back to Chester. “Anyway, the book club—”
She thought he was joking. Fair enough. It was kind of Nick’s brand.
“I’m serious,” Nick said eagerly. “I can do it. I can run the book club.”
They both stared at him. Vi turned to Chester again, expectant. But to their surprise, Chester actually looked thoughtful.
“Well,” Chester said. “I suppose nobody else is volunteering.”
“Chester,” Vi admonished. “You yelled at him for ten minutes about his awful taste.”
“Maybe this’ll fix him.” Chester raised a hand to point at Nick. “Do you even read books?”
“I love them,” Nick said immediately.
Chester’s eyes narrowed. “That’s funny. I seem to remember a barbecue—”
“Nick, can I talk to you in the hall?” Vi tightened the ribbon in her hair like she wanted to pull it tight around his throat.
She didn’t wait for an answer, swishing outside so fast, her skirt smacked into his legs. Nick thought about making a scene of it, crying out in pain, falling to the floor, the works. But he just slunk out into the hall behind her.
This was his chance. Maybe if he did a good job, she’d actually start to like him. Then he could convince her not to reject him as a mate.
“What,” Vi asked, voice higher than he’d ever heard it, “are you doing?”
He shot her his best grin, the mischievous one that made women go, ehhh, I’ll give him a chance, and then let him buy them another drink.
“Helping?”
She smiled back at him. No mischievousness about it. She looked like she was reminding herself of the old adage: The customer is always right, even when they make me want to strangle them with their own intestines.
“This is at least a two-month commitment,” she said through that clenched smile.
“Easy,” Nick told her. Then he winced. Jasper was lurking near the vending machine, openly staring. Nick averted his eyes, but not before he saw Dr. Gert look up, make the connection, and grab Jasper by the back of his custodial outfit.
“Nick,” Vi repeated. “I don’t mean to be rude, but books aren’t . . . They aren’t exactly your thing. Why would you want to do this?”
“I told you,” Nick said as Dr. Gert dragged Jasper around the corner and out of sight. “I love books!”
“You—” Vi sucked in a breath. “You hate books. You haven’t read a single book you purchased from the store. Whenever I’ve asked you about them, you always stare at me like I’m stupid.”
“What? No, I don’t!”
Vi was already shaking her head, pulling on that purple ribbon. “It’s fine. I’ll sort something out. I’ll shuffle things around—”
“Violet,” he said, loud enough to make her startle. “I’m serious. I’ll do it.”
“Why?” Vi snapped. Then she visibly reined herself in, glancing around to make sure the hallway was empty. “Why would you ever want to do this?”
Nick stuttered to a stop. He couldn’t tell her she was his mate. Not yet. She still hated him.
He’d never been in a book club. He’d barely even started the Austen they’d assigned him in high school.
He wanted to go home and work on his motorcycle and drink beer and bake muffins until he forgot about this entire mortifying afternoon.
But he’d stood outside that hospital room.
He’d heard Vi try to keep everybody calm, including herself, as she sorted out everyone’s problems yet again.
Cutting off bits of her life to make someone else’s better.
And even if he couldn’t make her like him, even if she did end up rejecting him as her mate, he could at least take away some of her stress.
Thanks for not being all . . . you, she’d told him before she got into that ambulance. He could try for a little longer.
“I’m . . .” He squirmed under her probing glare. She came up to his chest and still made him feel like he was a pinned butterfly. “Looking to read more,” he finished lamely.
Vi’s brown eyes went flat. “Alright,” she said, and moved like she was going to step around him toward Chester’s room.
“Wait!” He caught her elbow. Her cardigan was stupidly soft under his calloused hand, and now he had to come up with a lie that would keep her here.
“I don’t get out much,” he blurted, letting go.
“I’m not, like, helping Cozy Grotto with quiz nights or going to town hall meetings or volunteering at the food bank like you, okay?
It’s pretty much just me. Going to work.
Going home. Working on my motorcycle. Maybe I want to .
. . get out in the community. Get involved.
Claw Haven’s gotten pretty cool over the past few years. It’d be nice if I was a part of it.”
Her eyes narrowed. There was still suspicion there, but it was softening. She wanted to believe him, he realized. Wanted to believe people turned over new leaves and stopped being annoying pieces of shit.
“Seriously?”
“Yeah! Why not?”
“Because this is really important to some people.”
“I swear I won’t screw it up.” He bounced on his heels, feeling the leather through yet another hole in his sock. “I swear. Gimme something to swear on.”
She blinked. A dark curl fell over her forehead. He itched to tuck it back into place. Everything in him wanted to lean closer.
“Your motorcycle,” she said.
Nick barked a laugh. “Oof! Okay. I swear—”
She cut him off, that curl still bouncing around above her eyebrow. “Wait, no. Swear on Mosey.”
Nick briefly entertained the ridiculous notion of kissing her. He fell to his knees instead, both hands over his heart.
“I swear on our beloved Mosey,” he began as Vi looked around self-consciously, “to be the best book club leader Sweethelm has ever had.”
She stared down at him. When he was on his knees, they were almost face-to-face.
“We can do a trial run,” she said finally. “If you can’t . . . If it doesn’t suit you, we’ll find somebody else.”
Nick stood, clicking his tongue. “You know, your lack of confidence might hurt a lesser orc.”
“Not you.”
He beamed. “No way, baby.”
Her eyelashes fluttered. Bright spots of color appeared on her cheeks.
Nick stared, entranced. He’d never seen her blush before. He didn’t know she could blush. He wanted to get back down on his knees and see how far down he could make that blush go. If it would reach past her collarbone, washing down her chest . . .
“Fine,” she said, jolting him out of his fantasy. “Come to the bookshop later. I’ll give you a rundown on what you need to know.”
“I can come now,” Nick offered. “Give you a ride back to the shop. Unless you fit your little bike in the back of that ambulance. Aren’t you freezing, riding that thing around in the winter?”
“You ride your motorcycle in the winter,” Vi said, and winced. “Don’t you have to get back to work?”
He shrugged. “Boss said to take however long to get my phone back. As far as he knows, I’m down in the sewers, wrestling a crocodile for it.”
“Alligator,” Vi said absently.
He grinned, shocked and delighted. “Excuse me?”
“It’s alligators in— You know what? Nothing.” Vi scrubbed a hand down her face, pulling at that cute little nose. “Did you drive here in your car or on your motorcycle?”
“It’s totally safe,” Nick started. Then, when Vi’s lips thinned: “You can wear my helmet!”
“And what will you wear?”
Nick knocked his knuckles against his forehead. “My thick skull will protect me.”
She stared up at him. Still wary, like she was expecting him to jump and scream psych!
at any moment. Even after all his swearing he was serious.
Even after he got down on his knees. Which, admittedly, was a pretty nonserious way to swear on something, if everything you said hinted at sarcasm.
Nick couldn’t help it. He’d pulled a face too long, and now he was stuck like this.
Vi was still staring. Nick resisted the urge to blow in her eyes.
“Fine,” Vi said finally. “But go slow.”
“Hand on my heart,” Nick whispered, neither of his hands anywhere near it.