“We can get past this, Mike, we’ll be okay.”
“I hope so.” He sniffed, then nodded to my plate. “Eat.”
The evening light snuck through the window then and outlined the contours of his broad, round shoulders. We watched each other, silently exchanging thoughts through our facial expressions. I had to hold back the smile in me when I followed the scruffy stubble along his cheeks and neck, making him look incredibly gruff—in a sexy way.
When he saw my obvious look of lust, the hard line of tension that pressed his lips dissolved, and we both just smiled. There was no point trying to deny that we wanted to smile. And it seemed pointless trying to deny my feelings. Fact is, I do love him still, and I don’t like it when he’s mad with me. I want it to be like it used to be, when I could hug him or lay in his arms, and neither of us thought anything of it. I liked it when we were just friends.
But, I guess, in truth, we were never just friends, really, were we? We both always wanted more. Sadly, I still do, though I can’t explain it to myself and it would make no sense to anyone else if admitted that. Quite simply, and repeatedly, my own answers to my “What should I do?” are always “You should have married him.”
“How’s dessert coming along?” Emily beamed in her usual, bright manner, as she came around the corner.
Mike took the breath that ended the argument, and opened the fridge. “Pie sound good?”
“Pie sounds great,” I said, overly chirpy.
“Fine with me.” Em shrugged, and as soon as Mike leaned into the fridge, she bent over and said, really close to my ear, “You need your head read, Ara.”
As she sat down, I mouthed the word “Why.”
She nodded to Mike, who was sniffing the custard carton. “He’s a good guy.”
“I know, Em. But it’s not enough. I—”
“We need more custard,” Mike said, looking up, showing a hint of confusion under his frown when Emily and I suddenly sat back in our chairs. “Uh...so...shall I go get some?” He held the carton up.
“No. I’ll do it,” I said and stood up. Emily followed me out to the front entrance.
“What the hell do you want, Ara?” she raised her voice softly, pointing toward the kitchen. “Love wasn’t enough with David, the perfect guy isn’t enough with Mike—what are you looking for?”
“I don’t know.” Because love was enough with David, but not enough to make him stay with a mortal. “When I figure it out, I’ll let you know.”
Emily grabbed my arm in her gentle, feminine grip. “You’re going to lose him if you don’t wake up.”
“If I could wake up, Em, I wouldn’t be in this nightmare.” I brushed her hand off me, grabbed my keys and walked away.
As the engine stopped and the vibration of the car halted, I stared at the house for a moment. That’s funny. It got dark unusually quick tonight. I could’ve sworn it was lighter when I left work. There must be a storm on the way or something. Now...I had something I needed to do, but I can’t remember what it was...
“Ara?”
I jumped and looked up at the person who tapped on my window. “Hey.”
“Where’ve you been?” His voice came muffled through the glass.
I wound down the window. “Work.”
“No. You went to get custard—over an hour ago.”
My body flooded with a shock of heat. Custard. I did too. “I know I did. I was being funny.”
“So—” Mike looked to my passenger seat. “Where’s the custard?”
I looked too—at the empty seat. “They were all out.” Yes, brilliant! “Sorry. I tried other stores, but...”
Mike stood back and opened my door. “Are you okay, baby?”
“Me? Fine. Why?”
“Mike?” Emily popped her head out the front door, holding a mobile phone.
“Yeah?”
“Dodger’s on the phone.” Her tone rose in question, probably at the weird name.
Mike sighed, then looked at me before backing away. “Thanks, Emily.”
“Hey, beautiful.” Eric popped up before the front door even closed.
“Eric!” I covered my chest to steady my heart. “You scared me.”
“Sorry. Didn’t mean to.” He took my hand and pulled me from the car.
“What are you doing here?”
“Dinner. Remember? We’re supposed to be going out tonight.”
“Oh yeah.” I slapped my palm to my head. “I remember now.”
“Wait, you forgot? Dinner? With me?”
“Get over yourself, Eric,” I said. “You don’t exactly occupy all my random thoughts.”
“As long as I occupy the ones you have when you’re alone...at night.” His wicked, suggestive grin saturated my arms and legs with liquid heat, and most probably turned my cheeks pink. “I’m gonna go ahead and guess that’s a yes.”
“It’s only because you’re a vampire.” Nothing to do with how sweet and gentle and charming you are.
“Well—” he looked away for a second, shuffling his feet to hide his bashful smile, “—I’m kinda starting to like you for more than just the unbearable desire to feast on you.”
“Good to know.” I nodded, then looked at the car. “Should we go? I’m starving.”
“Imagine how I feel then.”
My response was nothing more than a shake of my head as I sat back in the driver’s seat.
“You know?” Eric said, appearing in the passenger side before I had my seatbelt on. “We could go somewhere private instead.”
“Private? Why?” I clicked my buckle into place, then started the engine.
Eric’s smile gleamed in the gentle light reflecting off the garage door. “I can hear your heart beat, Amara.”
I swallowed, silently cursing the rapid thumping in my chest. “And you think it’s because I want to do things with you? In private?”
“I love it when you do that.” He held my gaze.
“What?”
“Pretend you don’t want me. It’s very endearing.”
“I don’t want you.”
“Yes, you do.” He looked to the front again.