Chapter 2 #2
He folded his arms on the table. “The roads are dangerous. People speed out here because there aren’t any limits. Just last week, a fifteen-year-old was struck by a distracted driver. It fractured the boy’s arm, but it could’ve been worse.”
“That’s terrible.”
“I have experience in emergency medicine, but time is always of the essence. Since he had my number, I was able to get there quickly.”
I stood and collected the plates before carrying them to the sink to wash later. “It’s a good thing you moved here. Milly’s difficult to book sometimes.”
“I’ll leave you my number.”
His personal number? Why did that put butterflies in my belly? Why did the idea of talking to this man in the middle of the night while curled up in my bed give me a warm and fuzzy feeling?
I’ve never acted this way around a man. Get it together! And I won’t be talking to Salem in the middle of the night in bed unless I’m suffering from a spider bite.
When I reached for his glass, he captured my wrist.
“I’ll get that.”
My breath caught. “Okay.”
I sat in his chair, the seat immediately warming my behind. The surrounding air was a mixture of faded cologne and summer rain. My candles were unscented, so I knew that was him.
Salem rolled up his sleeves and began washing my dishes, including the pots.
The sounds lulled me into a calm state, and I closed my eyes, remembering the way my mother and father used to talk in the kitchen after dinner while they cleaned the table and washed dishes.
I gripped the silver locket around my neck and rubbed it with my thumb.
“Why don’t you shift and let your animal run between locations?” he asked. “Seems better than walking.”
Boy, that was a smooth way of indirectly asking about my Breed in a manner that wasn’t offensive.
“I don’t have a grocery tote that will fit my animal,” I quipped. “She’s not a pack mule.”
“Do you have a last name?”
“No, just Quinn. I thought it might be good for business to go by one name. Like Madonna or Eminem. I think it’s more fun, and maybe people will remember me.”
He cast a lingering gaze over his shoulder. “You’re hardly easy to forget.”
I got up from my chair and moved next to him. “I can finish this. Your pack is probably expecting you, and I don’t want to hold you hostage.”
“May I use the restroom?”
I gestured to the entryway, the hall visible just beyond. “It’s the door on the left. The lock doesn’t work, but I won’t come in.”
Water splashed onto the counter as I excitedly rinsed a plate while daydreaming about Tak’s business proposal.
People respected him, and creating a masterpiece for a prominent Packmaster could change my life.
So far, I’d done smaller windows for individuals and businesses, but a lot of those people lived out of the way.
Packs were always inviting neighbors over and conducting business, so everyone would see the window and seek me out.
Then I could get a larger home with a studio.
More importantly, designing a window left my mark in the world.
Tiny ornaments could break or get lost, but a window? That would last generations.
After drying my hands, I sauntered into the living room and switched on a floor lamp.
Salem finally emerged from the bathroom.
“I thought you fell in.” A smile played on my lips.
“I fixed your ballcock.”
“My what-cock?”
After briefly dipping into the kitchen and grabbing his cardigan, he joined me. “Have you had trouble with the commode?”
“You fixed it?”
“Just a minor adjustment. You should replace the equipment. I’d get a whole new set if I were you.”
I played with the chain dangling from the floor lamp. “There’re plenty of renovations needed, but money doesn’t grow on trees. At least my landlord replaced the air-conditioning unit when it went kaput last summer.”
Salem took out his phone and switched it on long enough to see the time. “I should go.”
“Thanks for dinner,” I said.
The cadence of his laugh curled my toes. “You did the cooking.”
“Not entirely,” I pointed out while dawdling to the door. “I meant thanks for the company. The only visitors I get are the glass delivery guys. I thought small towns were easy places to make friends.”
“Most people in Storybook are from somewhere else, so what you have is a group of strangers who are stuck with each other and don’t trust anyone. Maybe you should hang out at the bars if you’re looking for friends.”
“The bars?” I laughed brightly. “Those aren’t the kind of friends I’m looking for, but if you hear about a good craft fair or art festival, those are my people.” I flung the door open and stepped out, squealing when my feet touched the chilly concrete.
Salem wasn’t far behind.
When I reached his car, I opened the driver’s side and faced him.
He gripped the top of the door. “You should get inside. It’s too cold.”
“A chill never hurt anyone. Live a little. If it ever snows again, take your shoes off and run around. It’s good for the blood!”
“Cold weather actually constricts blood vessels.”
I tapped him on the nose. “Deep down, there’s a fun guy trying to escape. What did you like doing as a kid? I bet you climbed trees or sneaked away in the middle of the night to sit on a rooftop and stare at the stars.”
He cracked a smile and shook his head. “I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone like you.”
I took his cardigan out of his hands and tossed it into the passenger seat.
“I get that a lot.” After circling around him and pacing away, I turned on my heel.
“I’ll see you around, Salem. Thanks for the ride and keeping me company.
And most especially, thanks for fixing my ballcock.
” I blew him a kiss. When he didn’t react, my jaw slackened.
“What?” He looked at me, nonplussed.
“When someone blows you a kiss, you’re supposed to catch it.”
He stepped closer to the car. “You should only do that when you mean it.”
“I always mean it. I love everyone. The world is a beautiful place.” When I ascended the steps, I watched him back up before turning around and disappearing into the darkness. “Good night, Salem Lockwood. Sweet dreams.”