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Page 32
Page 32
“What was that?” I finally asked since my attempts at becoming intangible weren’t panning out.
“What was what?” If I hadn’t been focusing so hard I might have missed the way he said the words a little too fast or the way his pulse sprinted erratically in throat.
“You kissed me.”
“I created a diversion.” Definitely not my imagination… he was talking fast.
The corner of my mouth lifted slowly and little bubbles of glee bounced under my skin as redness started creeping up the back of his neck. He’s blushing, I thought. Just like--
And with that thought my mouth flattened and all my bubbles popped.
What was I doing? This wasn’t some random cute guy. It was Liam. Alex’s brother. How could I even think of thinking the sort of thoughts my brain was starting to think?
“I’m sorry,” I said, my voice back to normal, if you call really quiet and slightly freaked out normal. “I wasn’t being careful. I won’t let it happen again.”
Liam’s head jerked in a quick nod.
“Do you think she knows who I am, or that she’ll tell the police?” It was an honest concern, and really should have been the more important issue at hand. Being more worried about who I was kissing or almost kissing than whether or not we got caught said something about my priorities, and it wasn’t a very nice something.
Liam didn’t look at me when he answered. “I think she’s just a nosey old lady.” I followed his gaze up the aisle where she was now blatantly reading over the shoulder of the middle aged woman she was sitting beside. “But we’ll have to be extra cautious once we get to Fargo.”
“I can do that.”
The look I got in response said he highly doubted it.
***
Fargo looked nothing like I imagined. In my head, it was a quaint little place with a general store ran by a man named Fred who wore flannel and flirted with Sally the waitress at the diner down the snow-filled street. In reality, it was just like any other mid-sized American city. The buildings were industrial looking and dirty, the stores boasted names so familiar they felt like old friends, and there wasn’t a flake of snow to be seen. Sure, it was cold, but not so much that it made me happy to have on the wig and hat.
Liam was back to the silently aloof person I met over a year ago, which was fine by me. I needed some distance. What happened on the bus, the way I reacted, wasn’t okay. At all.
At the bus station Liam pulled out an until-now-unseen phone. “I’m at the Greyhound station,” he said by way of greeting. “How soon can you be here?”
Almost no time at all later, a silver BMW pulled up to the curb. Liam was opening the back door before I understood this was supposed to be our ride. I rushed to catch up, and jumped into the seat beside him. I felt kind of silly with both of us getting into the back, but since Liam had left the door open and slid over behind the driver’s seat, I figured it was what was expected of me. The seats were upholstered in a soft brown leather that smelled new and the windows were tinted so dark I wondered if they were actually legal. The driver was a black man in his mid-fifties who sported what appeared to my untrained eyes to be a rather expensive business suit. With the two of us in the back seat and the driver looking all posh while silently driving us through the city, I felt a bit like I was being chauffeured around, which would have been ridiculous enough for a girl like me even if I hadn’t just finished a twenty-seven hour bus ride and was in dire need of a shower and change of clothes.
We ended up in one of those rich people subdivisions, which apparently looks the exact same no matter where you are. The BMW didn’t stop until we made it to the very back corner of the little community. The house wasn’t one of the biggest we had passed, but it wasn’t exactly small. The arched doorway and professionally manicured lawn made it look more impressive than it actually was, as did the detached three car garage where we parked.
“That’s a Rolls Royce,” I said, staring at the car next to us. I had no idea as to what model it was, but I did know it was old and in pristine condition. I decided there was no way I was getting out on my side. I would crawl across Liam’s lap if I had to, but I didn't want to accidentally ding a car worth more than my parents’ house.
“You know cars?” the driver asked, speaking for the first time.
“Just enough to know a Rolls when I see one,” I answered honestly.
He smiled and it was one of those great big smiles that show all your teeth. I felt myself relaxing at the sight of it, despite knowing beyond a shadow of a doubt this man was a Shifter, and if my aura-reading was anywhere near accurate, a fairly Dominant one. “I’m not exactly an aficionado myself. My wife picked this one out for me, and that one was an inheritance from my father.”
“That’s an awful nice inheritance.”
“It is,” he agreed, “but I’d rather have my dad.”
“I’m sorry,” I muttered. I could feel my face flaming red. Seriously, how stupid could I be? I really shouldn’t be allowed to speak. “I didn’t mean--”
His smile was more subdued, but the kindness in his eyes was evident. “Of course you didn’t, sweetheart. I wasn’t chastising you, just voicing my grief.” He opened the door and got out of the car. I was waiting for Liam to move so I could scoot across the seat when my door opened. Our driver stood outside and offered me a hand. “You know, my dad died more than ten years ago, but I still miss him every single day.”
“I know what that’s like,” I said, letting him help me out of the car. His hand was roughly the size of my mom’s favorite frying pan, but having it wrapped around my elbow made me feel protected, not shackled.
“I thought you might,” he said. His hand squeezed my elbow ever so gently. “It’s in your eyes.”
“Funny, it’s my heart that hurts.”
With a small, sad smile that said he understood, he let go of me and gestured for me to walk ahead of him toward the door. I wasn’t completely comfortable at having another Shifter at my back, but I allowed it since he seemed to be one of the good guys.
“You went and found yourself a poet,” he said to Liam, who waited for us by the door.
Liam didn’t even acknowledge the statement or anything it implied. “Thanks for coming so quickly.”