Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 64030 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 320(@200wpm)___ 256(@250wpm)___ 213(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 64030 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 320(@200wpm)___ 256(@250wpm)___ 213(@300wpm)
I played along. “I just speak from the heart like Mamma taught me.”
He took two more steps back, his face a poster child for shock. “I must go.”
“Suitcherself, Stark.” I shrugged coyly.
In a blink, he was gone.
“Who the hell was that?” Maybell appeared by my side, an amused glint in her brown eyes.
“A monster. Steer clear of him,” I warned.
“You weren’t treating him like any monster I’ve ever seen. Don’t look like one either.”
I couldn’t lie. At first glance—and second or third—Montgomery Stark was an unusually handsome man. Unusual in that few men were so brutally perfect. Refined, but masculine. Fierce and wild, with a dash of predatory savage. Elegant with his words, yet his voice lacked smooth edges. Crème brulée filled with broken glass.
Not that I ate fancy French food often, but Mamma had taken us out once to this place in Nashville. Le Blu Bovine or something.
“Trust me, Mayb, you want nothing to do with that…man.”
She giggled. “I think you’re sweet on him, Mas.” She poked my shoulder.
“And who says that anymore? And I’m not sweet on him,” I growled.
She shrugged. “Hey, now. Sisters before misters. Remember? You want me to steer clear, all you gotta do is say so.” Maybell trotted off, laughing.
Dear Lord. “Steer clear!” I called out.
I could only hope she kept her word about the “sisters before misters” thing. We’d never once competed for a guy, but she was a bona fide danger magnet. Show that girl a fire, she was the one grabbing a can of gasoline.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
For the next week, Montgomery Stark came to the bar around one a.m. He sat in the corner, ordered the most expensive scotch on the menu, left a generous tip, and then disappeared.
Later, when I got into my truck, I felt his eyes on me just like when he sat at his table. The strange part was that while I drove, I felt him, too.
Was this a vampire mind trick, my imagination, or real? Did he fly above me? Run lightning fast? Turn into a bat? Vampires had all sorts of abilities in books and movies, but who knew if there was any truth to them?
Montgomery Stark knows.
This was exactly why I needed to learn as much as I could.
By the eighth night, I decided it was time to make my move. I had to get closer to him without igniting suspicion. The problem was I’d been putting on a strong front filled with constant rejection, so I couldn’t simply say: “Hey, creepy vampire man, wanna hang out?” He’d see right through me.
This situation called for something sly, something that would create an opportunity for him to believe he’d won points. My advantage was that he didn’t really know me or the fact that I wasn’t a particularly emotional person. Tonight, he would meet Masie, the blubbering fool who couldn’t handle rejection after a few beers. Everyone has a weakness, so why not this?
At the end of the day Stark was a man, and what man could resist coming to the rescue? They loved playing the hero. All I needed was for someone to innocently stomp on my feelings, and for me to overreact. Hello, irrational and annoying Masie!
Heck, if I got really lucky, maybe the whole thing would turn him off, and he’d skedaddle.
“Hey, Ashley,” I said at the beginning of the evening shift. “The schedule says you’re taking off early tonight.” She was already dressed and ready to roll with her skintight pink skirt and blonde hair straightened to a sleek shine—her date-night look.
She flashed a guilty-as-charged look. “You weren’t here, so I cleared it with Jimmie. I swear.” She held up her right hand.
“I know. It’s just that, I was wondering what you’re planning to do.”
“No,” she whined, “please don’t pull rank. I already told Beau I could get off early.”
“I wasn’t going to make you stay. I was going to ask to tag along.” I flashed a big, wheedling smile.
“Really? But you never go out.”
I scratched the side of my head. “That’s not true. I go out.” To the library, for long walks, to the farmers’ markets. I even went to church on Sundays. Sometimes. If I wasn’t coming in early to the Rooster, I was taking care of the Carlins’ horses. Squeezing in church time wasn’t easy.
“Well, Beau got us backstage passes to Banjopalooza,” she said.
What the heck was that?
She added, “He’s only got two VIP passes, but maybe he can pull some strings for a regular admission.” She grinned, playing an invisible banjo.
Oh. Strings. I get it. “That’s okay. I can pay for my own ticket.”
“Great. Then come along.” She paused. “But who’s going to close up?”
“I talked to Jimmie. Told him I needed a night off.” It was true. Things felt pretty chaotic lately, in both good and bad ways. “He said he’d swing by and lock up.” It was Jimmie’s poker night anyway. He’d be up until three at least.