One Lucky Vampire (12 page)

Jake had made pancakes, intending to keep them warming in the oven until the gals got up, only to throw them out when they came out looking like Cajun pancakes. He had never been served pancakes as black as the ones he’d produced. And he’d destroyed one of Nicole’s frying pans in the effort.

He’d followed up that effort with French toast . . . with the same results.

Omelets had been his third effort, but they had been a sort of congealed mess: half raw, half blackened, and wholly crunchy from the eggshells that had somehow made their way into the mix.

Marguerite had come out as he was inspecting that effort, his clothes covered with everything from flour to eggs, and his face wreathed with disappointment, and had taken pity on him. She was the real person behind the lovely, fluffy, perfect omelets they’d had that morning. She’d called a local restaurant and had them delivered. Marguerite apparently couldn’t cook worth a damn either. But then the last time she’d cooked had been in medieval days. She’d only recently returned to eating and had a cook/housekeeper to manage the cooking.

Five minutes after Marguerite had left for the airport and Nicole had gone down to her studio, the doorbell had rung. Jake had rushed to answer it, expecting it to be Cody and his boys to handle the security system, but instead it had been a courier with a delivery. Jake had signed for it, surprised to find his name on the package. He’d taken it upstairs to find that it contained three cookbooks.
Cooking for Dummies
was the first book. The titles did not get more encouraging after that.

After greeting Cody and his men and showing them around, Jake had left them to work with the admonition not to bother Nicole in the studio and had retired to the kitchen to go through the books looking for something to make for supper. Something easy that he couldn’t burn or completely destroy. He’d been on his third and most successful effort, the peppercorn steak sauce, when Nicole’s scream had drawn him downstairs. He’d been just finishing it off when she’d come up and announced she was going out.

As her bodyguard Jake had to go with her, but there was another reason. He’d pretty much emptied her refrigerator and freezer with his failed attempts at cooking that morning and afternoon. He had to replace the food, or explain where it had all gone. But that was going to be tricky shopping with her. How the devil was he supposed to explain that he was picking up a carton of eggs when she’d had a full carton that morning? Never mind the onions, cheese, and various other foods he’d run through.

Jake contemplated the matter briefly as he watched Nicole slowly make her way toward the front of the bank line, and then suddenly pulled out his phone and punched in a number.

“Dan?” he said a minute later when his call was answered.

“Yeah buddy. This you, Jake?”

“Yeah, listen, Hank gave you a couple days off, right?”

“Of course. He always gives us time off between gigs.”

“Yes, he does,” Jake agreed, and then asked, “How would you like to make a couple hundred bucks for an hour or two of easy work? Maybe only an hour,” he added.

“I’m listening,” Dan said with interest.

Jake glanced toward the line to see that Nicole still had a long wait ahead of her. For once in his life he was grateful rather than annoyed that banks never had enough tellers. Turning his attention back to the phone, he said, “Okay, here’s the situation . . .”

N
icole gazed over the pest control section with pursed lips. Her choice was catch-and-release traps or sonar. There were other options, but she just couldn’t bring herself to deal with killing the poor little buggers. On the other hand, catching and releasing them outside so that they could run back into her house the first time she opened the garage door didn’t seem that sensible, so the only real option appeared to be the sonar repellent thingies. She peered at the containers, reading the promises on them and then tossed several in the shopping cart with a shrug. She hoped they worked. She didn’t want Jake quitting because of mice in her house.

That thought made her think of the man and she smiled faintly as she recalled his suggesting she go get her other tasks done and perhaps have a cup of coffee while he managed the shopping. Nicole had been trying to think of a way to make the same suggestion so that she could come get mousetraps without him. His suggesting it had worked even better. She’d handed him the cash she’d taken out at the bank and left him at the grocery store to come next door to the Canadian Tire.

Nicole tossed several more of the sonar things in the cart and then wheeled away to explore the rest of the store. She didn’t really need anything, but she had time to kill after all, so rolled up and down the aisles, looking at this and that and buying things she didn’t really need but that looked interesting or useful. When she got to the till and watched the items rolling up the conveyor belt toward the cashier, she had to wonder if they didn’t have some sort of subliminal persuasion on some of the signs in the store. Certainly, she seemed to have a lot of stuff there and she wasn’t sure why she’d grabbed half of it.

Once through the checkout, Nicole returned her cart and headed outside with her bags, surprised to find it was dark again. She glanced at her wristwatch, grimacing when she saw that she’d been in the store browsing for an hour. It was just after 4:30, but the sun set early in late November. Nicole hated that. It had just been making an appearance when she’d gone to bed just before seven that morning and now it was already setting. It felt like there was no daylight at all this time of year. But then she supposed it would help if she didn’t sleep through it.

Nicole didn’t at first see the car. It seemed to come out of nowhere as she crossed the parking lot. One moment there was nothing, and the next, bright lights were glaring at her from a car roaring toward her. She never would have got out of the way in time. Even as she realized that, something hit her from behind and nearly knocked her right out of her boots.

Nicole landed several feet away on the snowy pavement, grunting when something heavy landed on her back, and then gasping when she was pulled into a bumpy roll, her back riding over something bulky before she was rolled facedown on the ground again with that bulkiness covering her once more. The move got her a good distance away from the car that swept past without slowing.

“Are you okay?”

She heard the question, but was so stunned by the speed and violence of what had happened that Nicole was slow to respond. In the end, all she could manage was a weak nod as she tried to catch the breath that had been knocked out of her. The warm body above and behind her moved away and Nicole eased to her hands and knees on the cold hard pavement, realizing that her wrists were still through shopping bag handles when the action dragged them across the cold ground. She wheezed a breathless thank-you when someone caught her under the arms and lifted her to her feet like a child.

“Deep breaths,” the unfamiliar voice said. “I probably knocked the wind out of you. Sorry.”

Nicole released a breathless laugh and shook her head. He was apologizing for saving her life.

“Thank you,” she gasped finally, managing to straighten fully. She glanced to the man who had helped her, noting fair hair and a concerned smile. She managed a crooked smile in response and said, “Really. Thank you. I thought I was a goner.”

“You nearly were,” he said, his smile fading. His gaze shifted to search the parking lot.

Still struggling for breath, Nicole followed his gaze. The lot was as empty and still as it had been when she’d come out of the store. They were the only two people in the parking lot at the moment. There wasn’t even a car light to be seen, and the car that had nearly mown her down was either gone, or had parked and shut its lights off to blend in with the others.

Nicole had no idea where that last thought had come from, but it made her shift uncomfortably.

“Here. Allow me to walk you to your car,” her rescuer said, relieving her of her bags.

“Oh, thanks,” Nicole forced a smile and started to move when he shifted her bags to one hand and took her arm with the other, to urge her to move. She glanced at him curiously as they walked. He was tall, and well built like Jake, but that was where the resemblance ended. This man was fair-haired as she’d noted, but he also had a boy-next-door look rather than the more rugged good looks Jake had. Which she supposed was kind of ironic, considering Jake was a cook/housekeeper and this man had acted like a commando when he’d tackled and then rolled her to save her life. He was also older than Jake by a good ten years, by her guess.

“Ex-army?” she asked suddenly as they paused at the back of her SUV.

He had been scanning the parking lot as they’d walked, but now glanced to her with surprise. “How did you know?”

“It was that or an ex-football player,” Nicole said with amusement. “You have a heck of a tackle-and-roll thing going on there.”

His mouth widened into a smile, losing the grimness it had held since she’d first seen him. “Well, I did play football in high school,” he admitted with amusement. “But the tackle-and-roll thing is a more recent skill.”

Nicole nodded and opened the back of the SUV for him to set her bags inside. She then reached to close it and winced as pain shot down her side.

“I really did you in,” he said with concern, closing the back of the vehicle himself.

“A couple bumps and bruises,” she said waving away his concern. “Much better than the beating I would have taken from the car if you hadn’t been there.”

“Hmm.” He squinted at her through the dark, trying to get a better look at how much damage had been done, she supposed, and then said, “Maybe we should call the police and take you to the hospital.”

Her eyebrows rose with surprise. “On that’s not necessary. I mean, what would we tell the police? I almost got run over? I didn’t catch the license plate, did you?”

“No,” he said with an expression that made her suspect he was kicking himself for not getting it. “Still, I don’t want to just leave you here like this. In this light I can’t tell if you have a head wound or something else serious. If you pass out from blood loss or a head wound on the road and crash, I’d never forgive myself.” He glanced around briefly, and then said, “There’s a Moxie’s restaurant just past the grocery store next door. Let me buy you a coffee so I can be sure you’re okay.”

Nicole hesitated. She thought she was probably all right, but was aware she was trembling. A result of the adrenaline in her system she suspected, but truth be told she wasn’t sure herself if she wasn’t wounded somewhere. She’d hit the ground hard and was hurting pretty much everywhere. Moxie’s, she thought. It was right beside Loblaws, where she was supposed to pick up Jake.

Nicole nodded. “Okay.”

“Great.” He smiled and held out his hand. “My name’s Dan Sh— Peters, by the way.”

“Nicole Phillips,” she said, smiling crookedly as she placed her hand in his. Much to her surprise his smile quickly faded then.

“You’re shaking,” he said grimly, and asked, “Are you going to be okay to drive?”

“Yeah,” she said, and heard the uncertainty in her voice, but while she didn’t mind having coffee with the complete stranger who had saved her life, she wasn’t willing to let him drive her there. Stiffening her spine, she assured him, “I’m fine, and it’s just next door.”

“Okay,” Dan said, but didn’t release her hand, instead squeezing it before saying, “I’ll follow. Flash your lights and pull over if you start to feel sick or anything.”

Nicole nodded, relieved when he released her hand. But he just took her arm to usher her to the driver’s seat, saying, “I’m that pickup there.” He gestured to a dark pickup parked two cars down from hers. “Pull out and pass me and I’ll follow.”

“Okay,” Nicole murmured as he opened her door and ushered her in.

“See you there,” he said and closed the door for her.

Nicole pushed the button to start the engine and then just sat there for a minute, trying to concentrate on her breathing and calm her body. Her hands were trembling and she felt shaky and not quite all there. It was hard to describe, but she felt sweaty and a bit foggy. An overflow of adrenaline she supposed.

Impatient with herself, Nicole did up her seat belt and shifted into reverse.

Six

“W
hat?” Jake stilled, one hand on a can of tomatoes, and the other tightening on the phone pressed to his ear. Releasing the tomatoes, he turned toward his cart demanding, “What do you mean there was an incident? What incident? Is Nicole all right?”

“I think so,” Dan responded and he could hear the frown in his voice.

“What do you mean you think so? Dammit, Dan, I—”

“Shut up and listen, buddy. I don’t have long,” he said and then started right into explanations. “Someone tried to run her down when she came out of Canadian Tire. They came up slow and quiet, lights off and then just when I spotted them, flashed the lights on and raced the engine to charge her like a bloody bull. I barely knocked her out of the way in time and the car was gone when I looked up to try to see the license plate. But don’t worry, she doesn’t know I was watching out for her. She thinks I was just Johnny-on-the-spot. I even gave her the name Dan Peters instead of Shepherd in case you’d mentioned me as your partner.”

Jake cursed under his breath, and left his cart where it was to head for the exit. “I’m on my way.”

“No need. I’m following her to Moxie’s for coffee.”

Jake stopped walking and stiffened at mention of the bar restaurant. “In case I didn’t make it clear earlier, Dan. Nicole is off limits. She’s mine. Don’t mess with her.”

“You wound me,” Dan said, and Jake could hear the amusement in the other man’s voice. “I love women. I would never mess with them.”

“You mess with them all the time,” Jake growled. “You’re a fricking Romeo with a different Juliet every weekend. Nicole is not a Juliet.”

“Relax,” Dan said soothingly. “I just want to look her over in better light, make sure she wasn’t injured. I couldn’t tell in the parking lot, but she was pretty shaken up.”