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)
When my ride pulled up at my place, Montgomery Stark was already waiting on my front porch with arms crossed and his tall frame leaned against the siding.
How does he move so fast?
I swallowed down a hard lump in my throat. It was time to test my theory.
I got out, strolled past him without a glance, and opened my front door. Once inside, I called out, “Don’t waste my time, Stark. You coming or not? Because the way I see it, you have a long, uphill battle ahead. Might as well start turning on the charm and showing me whatcha got.”
I went to the kitchen, served myself a glass of water, and then sat on the couch. I could feel him moving around the room among the shadows, watching me.
“Come. Sit,” I commanded, mimicking his words from the other night. “I want to hear all about this Anna. Tell me why you think I’d ever love you like she did.”
I suddenly felt a pair of lips on my cheek. I froze, trying to keep my pulse steady.
“Another time, Masie,” said that deep voice. “The sun will rise soon, and I must be off.”
With that, he left, and I exhaled the weight of everything I’d been holding in. Had my tactic worked? He said he would be back. He’d sounded intrigued. I guessed I’d find out soon.
I checked all my doors and windows and then crawled into bed, where the release valve threatened to blow.
How much more of this could I take?
The answer: I’d have to take it all—see it through to the bitter end. Otherwise, Stark would never be out of my life or the town I loved so much.
CHAPTER TWELVE
The next night, Stark didn’t show up to the Rooster, and I didn’t feel his eyes on me during the drive home.
I couldn’t lie; it made me uneasy. Not knowing where he was pushed me off-kilter and sent my mind into a deep spin. Was he off killing some poor person? Maybe someone I knew? I needed to move faster with my plan and stop him before more bodies piled up.
When I arrived home around two thirty in the morning, the horses were restless in the barn, the front door was wide open, and the lights were on inside.
Was Stark here, or was something else going on?
I was about to call Sheriff Idiot but changed my mind. Thomas would only accuse me of flirting with him. Also, did I really want him tangling with a vampire?
As a precaution, I punched nine-one-one into my cell but didn’t hit send.
I grabbed Betsy from under the seat in my truck and walked up to the open front door. “I’m armed. So whoever’s here better—”
“Come to the kitchen,” said that deep voice.
I let out a sigh of relief. It was Stark. Not that I was thrilled he’d broken into my home again, but at least he wasn’t out chomping on people.
I slowly walked inside, heading to my kitchen, where I found an elaborate spread on the white tile counter. There were boiled potatoes with herbs, roasted chicken, and several salads made with ingredients I didn’t recognize. A bottle of red wine sat in a decanter alongside two glasses. Stark was dressed in a tailored black suit with a white dress shirt and pale gray-blue tie that almost matched his eyes.
I placed my things next to the sink, knowing I had to pick my words carefully. If I gawked at this feast, I wouldn’t score points. But if I swooned, he wouldn’t buy it. I’d made it clear that I was like a ring toss at the county fair—not so easy to win.
“Wowy, wow. You prepare this yourself, vampire? Or did you force someone’s poor mamma to cook up this storm?” I asked.
He flashed a subtle but proud smile. “Prepared the meal myself. All dishes from my village.”
“Which is where?”
“The land has had many rulers over the years, but today it is part of northern Italy.”
I’d have to read up on the region later. “This doesn’t look like Italian food I’ve ever seen.”
“It is not. Each dish is an exact reconstruction of what my mother used to prepare on special occasions. Took me years to track down the recipes.”
Okay. This was good. He was honoring the memory of his mamma and his childhood. This meant there was a part of him that still remembered what it was like to be human. Maybe I could work with that somehow.
“I’m impressed.” I added, “Didn’t know vampires can cook.”
“Why don’t you try some?” He gestured toward the food.
“You joinin’ me?” I asked.
“Sadly, no. I can drink wine in small quantities, but,” his pale eyes flickered to a dark shade of blue and focused on my neck, “I prefer to sate my thirst with other things.”
Not a smokey chance in hell, cowboy. “Well, too bad, because I’m not in a generous mood tonight.”