had looked in a mirror.
Then I left a note with my cell phone number and slipped out the cottage to drive around town and look for some shops. If we were going to be here for a few days, I needed clothes and toiletries. And food. Most definitely.
Did Michel eat food? He drank with me last night. Or maybe that was just a ploy to look human. Just in case, I better get enough for two.
I retraced the route we had come down last night until I reached a main drag. Then I grabbed my cell phone to pull up Google maps to see what was nearby.
Phone was dead. Figured. Now I needed a charger too.
Two hours later, I returned to the cottage with some staples.
When I entered the cottage, the drapes were still drawn shut. Michel was sitting on the sofa with a reading lamp on nearby.
“ Tu vas bien? ” he asked, standing up. “Are you all right? Where were you?”
“I’m fine,” I said, putting my bags down. “I didn’t want to disturb you and I needed to get a few things.”
“I tried calling and you didn’t answer.”
“My phone died. I got a charger. Sorry, I didn’t know what kind of charger you would need.”
“That’s okay, I used the house phone. I apologize if I sound like a jealous boyfriend. But I was worried, considering the circumstances last night…” His voice trailed off.
Seeing the concern on his face and realizing it was for my well-being almost stopped me in my tracks. Did he actually care for me? Me, just a human? Nothing really to his kind, except a food source.
A part of me almost laughed when I realized if any other guy questioned me about my whereabouts as he just had, I would have rolled my eyes. Then I’d tell them to back off and stop invading my privacy.
What did I do in this situation? About as opposite a reaction as I could think of. I walked over to him, looked up into those eyes and said, “Don’t worry. I’m fine. I’m here. With you.”
He pulled me into a hug and I buried my face into his broad chest. “With me,” he said.
While Michel checked in with his employees, I brewed a chai I blended with tea and spices I found in the kitchen cabinets. I took it out onto the deck to give him some privacy.
The sun was setting over the Atlantic and I thought the color of the sun reflected on the waves reminded me of the colors that danced in a campfire. I wanted to tell Michel to come out, but stopped myself. This was something Michel hadn’t experienced in over two hundred years; it was something he could never experience.
Once again I questioned what I had gotten myself into. No, who had I gotten myself involved with? He was centuries old. He wasn’t human. He’d killed people in the past. And he was being hunted. And now I was also being hunted.
I sipped the chai as the sun sank lower on the horizon.
Should I have done something different last night? If I had never gone to him, I never would have ended up in this life-threatening situation. That would be the sensible thing to do.
But the idea of not being with Michel and missing out on all that had happened—the good and the bad—filled me with such a sense of loss I forced it from my mind.
My mind wandered from one memory to the next of the past day—first speaking with Michel, the explosion, the fire, the fighting, the drive up to Maine, his story, making love…
Just thinking about being with him made me miss his touch.
The last vestige of sun appeared to slip into the ocean.
Ugh, what was I doing? Wrapping myself around a guy like this? This was so not my style. Remembering I was a strong, independent woman, I put my chai on a table and walked down to the shore. I didn’t need to have all my thoughts consumed by one man like this.
I concentrated on the sensation of the cool October sand slipping through my toes. The Atlantic would be pretty cold by now at the final stretch of an Indian summer. Although I hated the cold water, I braved it and gasped when the frigid New England waters hit my
Then I left a note with my cell phone number and slipped out the cottage to drive around town and look for some shops. If we were going to be here for a few days, I needed clothes and toiletries. And food. Most definitely.
Did Michel eat food? He drank with me last night. Or maybe that was just a ploy to look human. Just in case, I better get enough for two.
I retraced the route we had come down last night until I reached a main drag. Then I grabbed my cell phone to pull up Google maps to see what was nearby.
Phone was dead. Figured. Now I needed a charger too.
Two hours later, I returned to the cottage with some staples.
When I entered the cottage, the drapes were still drawn shut. Michel was sitting on the sofa with a reading lamp on nearby.
“ Tu vas bien? ” he asked, standing up. “Are you all right? Where were you?”
“I’m fine,” I said, putting my bags down. “I didn’t want to disturb you and I needed to get a few things.”
“I tried calling and you didn’t answer.”
“My phone died. I got a charger. Sorry, I didn’t know what kind of charger you would need.”
“That’s okay, I used the house phone. I apologize if I sound like a jealous boyfriend. But I was worried, considering the circumstances last night…” His voice trailed off.
Seeing the concern on his face and realizing it was for my well-being almost stopped me in my tracks. Did he actually care for me? Me, just a human? Nothing really to his kind, except a food source.
A part of me almost laughed when I realized if any other guy questioned me about my whereabouts as he just had, I would have rolled my eyes. Then I’d tell them to back off and stop invading my privacy.
What did I do in this situation? About as opposite a reaction as I could think of. I walked over to him, looked up into those eyes and said, “Don’t worry. I’m fine. I’m here. With you.”
He pulled me into a hug and I buried my face into his broad chest. “With me,” he said.
While Michel checked in with his employees, I brewed a chai I blended with tea and spices I found in the kitchen cabinets. I took it out onto the deck to give him some privacy.
The sun was setting over the Atlantic and I thought the color of the sun reflected on the waves reminded me of the colors that danced in a campfire. I wanted to tell Michel to come out, but stopped myself. This was something Michel hadn’t experienced in over two hundred years; it was something he could never experience.
Once again I questioned what I had gotten myself into. No, who had I gotten myself involved with? He was centuries old. He wasn’t human. He’d killed people in the past. And he was being hunted. And now I was also being hunted.
I sipped the chai as the sun sank lower on the horizon.
Should I have done something different last night? If I had never gone to him, I never would have ended up in this life-threatening situation. That would be the sensible thing to do.
But the idea of not being with Michel and missing out on all that had happened—the good and the bad—filled me with such a sense of loss I forced it from my mind.
My mind wandered from one memory to the next of the past day—first speaking with Michel, the explosion, the fire, the fighting, the drive up to Maine, his story, making love…
Just thinking about being with him made me miss his touch.
The last vestige of sun appeared to slip into the ocean.
Ugh, what was I doing? Wrapping myself around a guy like this? This was so not my style. Remembering I was a strong, independent woman, I put my chai on a table and walked down to the shore. I didn’t need to have all my thoughts consumed by one man like this.
I concentrated on the sensation of the cool October sand slipping through my toes. The Atlantic would be pretty cold by now at the final stretch of an Indian summer. Although I hated the cold water, I braved it and gasped when the frigid New England waters hit my
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