Chapter 5 What Now? #3
Eloise nodded slowly, her expression holding back a smile. "Mhmm, and I also remember him being a rather large help in the end. And, more importantly, his unmoving disposition sparking to life whenever he looked at you."
Carol smiled and passed out gold plates with tarts to everyone. "We talking about the chief and Tilly?"
"He's a good guy," Taylor added. "I like working for him. A little stand-offish, but he's by the book, smart and calculating the way you want your leader to be."
Tilly gave him a flat look. "Thanks," she said.
"What? Do we not like him?" he asked, looking around at the women in question.
"Oh, we like him. Just not as much as Tilly."
Tilly shushed Carol, looking around.
Eloise waggled her eyebrows.
"Actually," Eloise placed the tip of her index finger to her chin, "he still looks at her that way, don't you think, Carol?"
Carol nodded. "I do."
Tilly rolled her eyes and took the glass from Eloise's hand and drained the rest of it before handing it back to her laughing friend.
"You know why I'm avoiding him," she said in a lowered voice.
Eloise bent towards her and whispered, "Are we sure? Like, did you ask to see his fangs?"
"No!" she whisper-yelled. "I feel like that is incredibly inappropriate."
"Is there etiquette here?" Carol asked, also lowering her voice.
"Why are we whispering?" Kelsea asked, rejoining their group having successfully dodged her young suiter.
"Because Tilly is telling us about Chief Fangs and lowering her voice so that..." she shook her head in question at Tilly.
"Because what if he has super hearing?" she answered.
"Mm, good call," Kelsea agreed. "But yeah, you still avoiding him? Oh, he's looking over here. Look natural."
To which none of them responded by looking natural. In any sense of the word.
So, when the chief looked at the group of women holding themselves at unnatural angles, with stilted smiles on their faces his dark eyes found Tilly and held for a beat as her heart stuttered and her mouth froze in what could only be described as the kind of fractured smile you gave a parent after thirty minutes of camera-pointing where the eyes don't match the mouth.
He raised one dark eyebrow at her in question.
She was held captive in his stare. The other women watched with rapt attention. Everything faded around them; her insides were bubbling and buzzing.
And then he winked.
The stoic, statue of a man who did in fact look fantastic in a black button-up dress shirt with his short, dark hair messily posed in perfect waves and stubble along his jaw, winked at her.
Did her heart stop? It stopped. Why was she responding this way?
Eloise waved a hand in front of her eyes. He looked away. The spell was broken; the sounds of the world around them came crashing back around her.
"Why are you guys acting weird?" Jenson asked, approaching them with a cautious look on his handsome face.
"Tilly is into the chief," Taylor whispered to Jenson, whose eyes rounded, and he nodded.
"Women do tend to like vampires."
Tilly's glare made Jenson close his mouth, and Taylor inched closer to Eloise. "As much fun as discussing this is with all of you, I think I need to go. I'm exhausted," she finally got out.
All of them exchanged looks, making her sigh. "Seriously. This isn't about six foot...something ridiculous over there. I've had a rough day and I need to hug Jen, get out of this dress, and eat popcorn in my pajamas."
The beautiful stranger hadn't moved from where Tilly and Eloise first spotted her. Her eyes were no longer trained on Tilly, but Tilly watched her carefully, still a strange feeling emanating from her, before she found Jen.
"You are a magnificent star," she said, holding Jen's hands in hers.
Jen's smile was the kind that befit a woman of power and achievement, fought for and won. "Thank you. After your day, you still showed up a thousand percent for me."
"You kidding? Exactly what I needed. And I wouldn't have missed it." She hugged her friend, pulling in her scent of jasmine and champagne. She felt Jen's energy, her excitement, a zip along Tilly's spine. It filled her to the brim, and she reveled in it for a moment before pulling back.
"You leaving already?"
"If you don't mind. I'm exhausted, and I could use a wind-down night."
Jen understood immediately and waved over a waiter as she said, "Go to my house." When Tilly started objecting, she gave her a stern look. "Go to my house. The guest room is made up, and I have your pajamas in the drawers. There's a bath bomb I got for you on the dresser and a new candle."
Tilly looked at her in awe. "When...how..."
"Babe, you had a shit day. And you took care of me. Now, I'm taking care of you. Go take a bubble bath, get in your pjs, stuff your face with these," she took the tray from the waiter, which held Eloise's blackberry walnut tarts and Kelsea's black magic cake.
"I'm not intruding on a celebratory night between you and Isla?" She didn't want to ruin plans. She also might have been fishing.
And when Jen's smile turned a little less authentic, that zipping energy flattened, she knew. Genuine Jen wasn't airy.
"Nope, we've got plans later this week," she said airily. Tilly smiled.
"Thanks for being my best friend," she whispered, the love and caretaking filling her ribcage.
"Always. Now shoo," her hands flicked out, red nails flashing as she smiled. "Love you."
"See you when you get home."
She carried a silver tray of goodies with her outside, the summer night air cloaking her in a warm embrace. The stars twinkled brightly, and she tried to steady her worries.
No job. Soon no home. Ronnie back in town bringing old pain. Her sister's ability to make Tilly feel small.
"Nice night," a deep voice interrupted, causing her to let out a scream and drop the silver tray. She watched in horror, then shock, as it fell, about to clatter loudly against the sidewalk, when a hand slid out and lifted it fluidly. She stared at the barely disturbed treats still intact.
"How?" She stopped herself and licked her lips.
"Didn't mean to startle you," his voice drawled. The southern dip did things to her. Annoyance was at the top of that list.
"Well, you did. When a woman is alone at night, and you say something to her when she doesn't know you're there? Pretty startling."
His lips pursed the slightest. "My apologies. May I walk you to your car?"
She considered that for a moment. Should she let him? What was the danger? He was the chief of police, after all. There was a store full of her friends and half the town ten feet away.
But also, he was something else, and that part of her that had been avoiding him was unsure.
"I won't bite," he said, and when his lips pulled up in a half smile, she couldn't help but let out a shocked laugh.
"Was that a joke?"
He shrugged a large shoulder. "A promise."
Oh. Something curled in her belly.
"Tilly!"
She jumped and cursed. "What is the matter with men?" she mumbled as she turned at the voice, frowning when she saw Ronnie crossing the street. She looked up at the sky and raised a fist with pursed lips. What the hell had she done to have the universe play with her like this?
"You alright?" the chief asked, watching her have a word with the higher powers.
"Oh fine," she said with a touch of sarcasm and a sigh. "Just seeing if the universe is trying to use me to set a record."
He was about to say something, but then straightened and his face shuddered as he looked behind her.
When Ronnie wrapped his arms around her in an unexpected hug, she stiffened. He didn't seem to notice as he pulled away with that lazy smile. "Running into you twice in one day. Must be the universe telling me something."
She almost laughed. Almost. Because she was certain the universe was talking to her, not him.
"Uh, Ronnie, this is Chief Landry. He's new to Salem," she pointed to where the chief stood, his face back to that deceptively passive look. She could see him watch Ronnie carefully.
She could feel it, that sudden heightened sense of awareness when you're discerning friend or foe.
"Nice. Nice mustache, man." He turned back to Tilly. "Wanna hang out?"
"I, uh..." she shook her head, thoughts tangled together as she tried to find something coherent up there.
"I'm walking her to her car," Landry said easily. "She's had a long day and needs a bubble bath. Nice to meet you, you'll excuse us." He dipped his head politely, but his voice was low and edged in warning.
"Right," Ronnie said, drawing out the word, his eyes looking the man up and down, trying to draw his number.
The chief had half a foot on Ronnie. His decision was made when he turned toward Tilly and asked, "Do you want me to take you home?
I can hang with you at your place. I'm just crashing on a friend's couch until I get my own spot. "
Ah. There it was.
"Actually, I'm not going home." His look of shock at her rejection was foreign, like he had picked it up on his travels. But really, she'd just never said no to him. "Maybe another time," she added gently. Her tremulous smile put his shock at ease, and he nodded.
"Yeah, sounds good."
The chief held out his arm, and she stared at it before she tentatively placed her cool hand in the crook, and then he was leading her to where she had parked her car.
She felt rather than saw the frowning Ronnie, left behind, confusion and surprise following her for the first few steps until it dissipated.
Once her car was in sight, she pulled her arm from the chief's and opened the door.
"You don't lock your car." It was said low, an observation and not a question.
"It's a safe town," she argued.
"Nowhere is safe, Tilly."
"Okay. Thank you for that and your concern. May I have my cake now?" She held out her hands, her eyes not looking up at him, afraid that if she did, her insides would wobble.
But instead of handing her the tray, he set it on top of her car gently and then, to her shock and inner dismay, stepped closer to her.
"Tilly."
"Mhmm?" she asked, biting her lips and pretending to dig through her purse. Her keys were in the small inner pocket where she always put them, but her nerves were bumping around inside of her.
"Look at me."
The command, rumbly and deep, pulled her head up, and her lips parted when she saw just how close he was, and just how intentionally he was looking at her.
It was a moment planned, communication she hadn't been taught much of, an art. She could feel him, the beat of him, the thrum of whatever lay inside his chest.
He truly was handsome. She'd never had a particular attraction to mustaches, but his was trimmed and fit his Texan roughness well.
His dark eyes were framed with black eyelashes that almost looked feminine but instead lent a roguish glint to his eyes.
Thick slashes of eyebrows could have been expressive if he made many expressions.
He looked intense, stone, solid.
He looked like a killer.
"Are you frightened by me?"
"Yes!" She bit her lips again, surprised at her answer. The honesty of it. She could taste the wax of her red lipstick. She looked around nervously, but they were the only ones under the antique street lamps.
"I won't harm you."
She looked up at him again. The way he watched her...
"Then what do you want?"The question made him tilt his head, but he didn't answer.
"With me," she clarified, gesturing to herself. "I've seen you avoid most people unless it's part of your job, and with me, you," she shook her head, trying to find the words.
"I'm intrigued by you. You're interestin'.
Sweet. A little crazy. Brave. And you're not an idiot, but you leave your car unlocked and aren't aware of your surroundings.
" He said it all easily, like he had told her all of this before.
He was the kind of man who had few words, yes, but when he had them, they were ready and honest. "I like your eyes," he added softly.
She laughed. "I feel like most of that was a compliment."
He nodded.
"And you don't...frighten me in the way you may be thinking.""No?"
"I just, you're an enigma, and frankly? I have made poor choices in the past," she dramatically pointed over his shoulder.
"You just met one. And those were just regular guys hiding their true colors and inner damage.
Usually, father wounds," she said, her words scrambling as her thoughts were tumbling.
"Tilly," he interrupted her rambling. "Look at me."
Once again, the command made something buzz inside of her, and she couldn't help but comply. And when she did connect her eyes to his, her stomach dipped low.
"I won't harm you." He opened her back door as she watched him smoothly take the tray of sweets and place them inside the car before he closed the door and stepped back, his eyes on hers. "Go take your bubble bath. Relax. And lock the door."
She stood there silently watching him.
"Do you need me to buckle you in?"
Yes. No.
"Another joke?"
"No."
Oh.
She laughed nervously and got into the car. As she pulled away, the chief watching her from where he leaned against the black wrought iron lamp post on the sidewalk, she wondered if he was protecting her from what he had seen in the world or himself.
She thought of his promise not to harm her, on his silent and intense way that confused her.
She thought about it again later as she soaked in a bubble bath that smelled like bergamot, blackberries and lavender in Jen's clawfoot tub.
And she went to bed thinking about it until she fell asleep with her cheek pressed against the pages of the book she couldn't concentrate on, her hand wrapped around the tarot card of misfortune she'd kept as a bookmark.
Her last musing as she started drifting into dreams was that he mentioned her taking a bubble bath, something she had not said to him. Guess that answered one question about the Texan chief.