Dangerous Lovers (121 page)

We both exited the bathroom, him going in one direction and me in the other. I wasn’t looking forward to sitting around with wet pants the rest of the night, but I couldn’t leave. I had too much to accomplish. My plans had changed. I was no longer going to try and date the Target. Instead, I was going to be the fun, gay friend who offers to help organize fundraisers.

This might actually work out better than I originally hoped.

Frankie and Rosalyn were laughing when I rejoined them at the table. “Ladies, sorry about that.”

“You look like you peed yourself,” Frankie said.

“My sister, the joker,” I said, trying to sound affectionate, and pulled on a strand of her hair. She looked at me like I lost my mind.

Maybe I had.

“So what did you want to tell me before?” the Target said.

For once I was thankful Frankie didn’t do what I told her to do.

I put my hand under the table on her thigh and squeezed. “Actually, I should be the one to tell you. After all, I was the one embarrassed.”

“Embarrassed about what?”

“My sister told me that she confided my secret to you.”

“Your secret?” she asked. A second ticked by and realization dawned in her eyes. “So it’s true. You’re gay?”

I squeezed Frankie’s thigh again just to be sure she got the message. I nodded. “Yes, it’s true. I don’t normally go around telling everyone, though. I know it can make some people uncomfortable.”

“Oh.” Understanding came into her eyes and she reached her hand across the table for the one that was lying next to my plate. “I assure you it doesn’t make me uncomfortable in the least. And for anyone that it does… who needs them anyway?”

I smiled and released Frankie’s thigh. I could feel her questioning gaze on my face, but I ignored her and focused on the Target. “I’m relieved to hear you say that. A guy can never have too many friends.”

She smiled. “Absolutely.”

Score.

After a few minutes of small talk, I mentioned I was looking for a few charities and fundraising organizations to get involved with to help me and my business get established in the community since I was fairly new in town.

What a surprise that the Target needed help with one she was planning.

Score again.

I was feeling quite pleased with myself when dinner came to an end. I was also feeling confident that this job might not be as hard as I originally thought.

On the way out of the restaurant, Frankie leaned in close and hissed, “What are you up to?”

I just smiled and continued on my merry way.

It was none of her damn business.

Chapter Fourteen

“
Question – an expression of inquiry that invites or calls for a reply.”

Frankie

I went shopping with Rosalyn. She called me about a week after our pizza dinner and asked me to take her to that vintage store I told her about. I almost said no, but I hadn’t seen Charming either since that night; he was being quiet. Too quiet. I wanted to know what he was up to.

So I said yes and we went shopping. It was actually really fun. Until she started talking about Charming. Apparently, the reason he’d been leaving me alone was because he was devoting all his time to annoying her. Only she didn’t think he was annoying. She liked him. At one point she actually sighed and wished he wasn’t gay.

I actually threw up in my mouth when she said that.

But then she went on about how sweet and fun he was. About how he took her to the local ice arena to go ice-skating and then they went to a fondue restaurant for chocolate.

I had to act all happy and make noises about how fabulous my
brother
was. I could have spoken up and admitted to all my lies right then and made him look bad. But I would have made myself look bad too. I didn’t want to look bad to her; I liked her.

Ahhh, the tangled web I weaved.

But the worst part? The fact that he ate sugar. That’s right, he who said food was merely fuel. It made me so angry my stomach began to churn. But when I went into the fitting room and looked in the mirror, I saw it.

It was right there in my eyes.

I wasn’t angry about the stupid chocolate.

I was jealous.

And now here I was two hours after our shopping trip and I was still driving around trying to figure out why I had that look in my eye. How could I possibly be jealous about Rosalyn spending time with someone who literally wanted to kill her?

My mind was swirling; it felt like I was on the Internet with about twenty different tabs open and running all at once. And about seventeen of those tabs all had something to do with a positively hideous man with really striking green eyes.

Why, oh why were all the best-looking guys the ones who were the worst kind of trouble?

Frankie
, I told myself,
what you need to do is forget about him and go back to the original plan. Meet a doctor. A rich one who is average looking. Get married. Be spoiled.

Yep, that was my plan. Had been my plan since before I graduated high school and decided I would rather eat glass than go to college. My parents didn’t like that idea and I quickly became the world’s worst daughter. So I moved across the state to put my plan into action. Funny, I hadn’t thought about my plan much lately. And now that I was, those plans seemed… unappealing.

“Oh no,” I scolded myself and turned the Jeep in the opposite direction from home. “Don’t even go there.” This kind of thoughts called for a special kind of sugar. And I needed it before my brain joined sides with my body. The next thing I knew, I would be giggling like a vapid airhead and hanging on Charming’s every word.

Not. Going. To. Happen.

I turned the radio up too loud, hoping to drown out my thoughts, and drove to the Iced Princess. When I got there, the girl inside was just locking the doors and flipping over the closed sign. Figures I would be too late. At least I could still raid the vending machine.

I turned off the engine and sat there in the quiet, leaning my head back against the seat. I stared out through the windshield at the girl behind the counter. She was wiping everything down and taking all the days’ leftover cupcakes out of the display case in the front. I could tell she had the music turned up by the way she moved to the beat.

She looked happy. Like she didn’t have a care in the world and wasn’t in a very big hurry to get home. By the time my shift was over at the DMV, I wanted to run screaming from the building every day. It must be nice to be able to do something you love every day.

I sighed and leaned down to pull my wallet out of my bag, getting ready to raid the cupcake machine. When I sat back up and turned toward the window, there was someone standing there, watching me.

I screamed and my wallet flew out of my hands and onto the floor by my feet.

“Geeze!” I cried, putting my hands to my racing heart. “You about scared me to death!”

He smirked.

I rolled my eyes and popped open the door, hitting him with it. “What are you even doing here?” I said, ignoring his grunt of pain. “Are you stalking me now?”

“I’m not a stalker.”

“Right. Because that’s so much more offensive than your actual line of work.” I had to practically climb under my front seat to get my wallet. I swear it was trying to hide from him.

When I finally found it and pulled myself out, I nearly slammed into him. In my attempt not to touch him, I stumbled backward and he reached out and caught my arm, steadying me.

I glanced up, my eyes connecting with his. They were slightly heavy lidded. “Oh my gosh!” I said, pulling my arm free. “You were totally checking out my ass.”

He smirked.

I suddenly felt like I was standing too close to a flame. Heat seared my skin. I made a rude noise and left him standing there while I headed across the parking lot toward the cupcake machine. Clearly my body was still malfunctioning where he was concerned. I would have thought the time I spent away from him would have helped. Judging from the way I felt right now, it hadn’t helped at all.

Unfortunately, he followed.

“What is that thing?” he asked when I stuck my card in the slot and pushed a button.

“It has cupcakes inside.”

“Why not just go into the bakery?”

“They’re closed,” I said. “I never make it here before they close,” I muttered.

The next thing I knew he was knocking on the glass door and the girl inside pulled it open. “I’m sorry, we’re already closed,” she said.

He gave her that megawatt smiled of his and ran his hand through his hair. “Yeah, I see that. I know you’re probably busy cleaning up, but do you think we could come in just for a few minutes? I’ll pay double for whatever you have left over from the day and take it all off your hands.”

“That’s like fifty cupcakes,” the girl said.

He smiled again. “My sister here”—he motioned to me and I wanted to smack him—“had a really rough day.” He leaned in close to her and whispered, “Man troubles. I think fifty cupcakes should make her feel better.”

The girl’s eyes slid to me. “That’s your sister?” Then she looked back at him, eyeing his designer coat and good looks all over again. “You’re so sweet to do that for her.” And then she was holding open the door and we were being invited inside.

Really.

He just charmed his way inside my favorite cupcake shop.

Of course I went inside. I was getting free cupcakes out of this.

Before I knew it, we were sitting at the table by the window with two coffees and a huge pink box filled with cupcakes in front of us.

“I hate you,” I told him around a bite of a sinfully good chocolate cake. “But I love these.”

He smiled. This smile wasn’t the kind filled with ego. It was a nice smile.

“Aren’t you going to eat one?” I asked him, setting it down and picking up my bright-pink cup filled with coffee. Somehow he managed to get his coffee in a plain white cup. I didn’t even know they had those here.

He shook his head. “I’ll leave the sugar consumption to you.”

“You don’t know what you’re missing.”

“Maybe not,” he said, watching me. I swear his pupils dilated when I poked my tongue out to lick away some frosting from my lips.

I took another bite, purposely leaving frosting behind, and then used my tongue once again to get it.

His eyes narrowed. “Are you doing that on purpose?”

“What?” I asked innocently while inside I did a little happy dance. It thrilled me to no end to know he wasn’t as unaffected by me as I previously thought. I felt less horrified by the way my body reacted to him.

“What kind of game are you trying to play, love?” he asked, leaning over the table and lowering his voice. Desire spiked within me.

I swallowed, knowing if I tried to make some smart reply, I would only end up babbling or making a fool out of myself. I looked at him, telling myself there was a lot more to him than a pair of green eyes and a sexy body.

It worked.

I sat back in my chair and set down the treat. “Can I ask you something?”

His eyes widened a little when he realized I wasn’t going to be falling all over him like the girl behind the counter.

“What?” he asked warily.

“Is it hard?” I began. “You know… what you do?”

His face and eyes seemed to close up. That little peak of genuineness I saw in his smile earlier completely disappeared. “I’ve been doing my job for a very long time.”

“How long?” I asked, remembering the time he said he knew Marilyn Monroe.

“Ninety or so years.”

Surprise had me sitting up a little straighter. I hadn’t really expected him to answer and I sure as sugar didn’t expect that amount of time.

“Ninety years,” I whispered to myself. Then I looked back up at him. “So, that body… your body… that’s not yours?”

“It’s mine, has been for a while. But it wasn’t my first one.”

Wow. I couldn’t imagine what it would be like to wake up one day in a completely different body. Seems like it would be hard to know who you were.

I cleared my throat, wanting to get back to my original question. It was one of the thoughts that sent me here tonight, one of the thoughts that seemed to eat away at me.

“So is it?”

“Is it what?” he asked, picking up his coffee.

He knew what I was asking. Was he avoiding the question?

“Is it hard to kill people?” I lowered my voice, leaning in.

“No.”

Just like that.

I didn’t believe him. A man couldn’t kill for over ninety years and it never bother him. That just wasn’t natural… It wasn’t human. “I don’t believe you.”

His eyes snapped to my face and he set his coffee between us on the table. “Believe it. Killing isn’t as hard as you think. Most of the time it’s over in seconds, before the person even knows what’s happening. It’s not something I drag out.”