Dearest Ivie

“Absolutely sure.”

With a growl, his fangs fully descended, the bright white tips peeking out between his parted lips, his body seeming to grow even larger over her as his animal side came out. Putting her hands on his, she helped him start to draw down her—

Her phone went off again, the ringing sound cutting through the sizzle, halting the pants-off process before it even got started.

“Do you want to get that?” he said in a guttural voice.

“No, I—” She cursed. “It’s my father. It’s…he wants to know if I got home all right.”

He’d probably called while she’d been in the shower. And knowing him, he was going to keep on dialing until he materialized over here.

Oh, that would be great.

“Are you sure you don’t want to answer that?” Silas prompted as the thing kept making noise.

“Gimme a sec.”

Grabbing her shirt, she held it to her bare breasts and slid out from under him, her bra flopping around because the straps were still up on her shoulders. With her damp hair, and her all-undone, and a bitch of an ache in her lower body, she reached for the phone just as the call went into voicemail.

Sloughing off the bra, she pulled the shirt over her head and took a deep breath. Then she called her dad back.

As she waited for the male to pick up, she had to face away from Silas. He was no doubt sitting back on the sofa cushions with his own version of messy hair and rumpled clothing—not the kind of sexy display you wanted to be staring at when your father—

“Hi, Dad! Oh, yeah, no, I’m sorry. I got home and went right into the shower, and then I was fixing something to eat and left my phone in my purse. What? I know. Uh-huh. Yup. Of course. She is? Oh, that’s—what? Ah…sure. I’d love to. Looking forward to it. No, it’ll just be me. Tell Mom I said I love her. Okay. Yup. Uh-huh. Right—look, Dad, I’m sorry to cut you off, but my dinner is getting cold. I love you, too. Yes, I paid the cable. No, I have plenty of money. You don’t have to take care of me, remember? I’m grown up now. Okay. Love—love you. Yup…okay. Bye.”

As she tried to get off, she leaned down closer and closer to the coffee table, like she was on an old-fashioned phone that had a receiver you could hang up.

And then she was free and turning back around.

Silas was indeed in lounging recline on the couch, one arm stretched across the back, the other resting on a throw pillow he’d put on his lap for a good reason. But it looked like “dinner” had absolutely cooled. His face was remote, his eyes no longer burning, his body stiff, although not, she sensed, because he was ready to jump her anymore.

“That was my dad,” she said. Duh.

“There’s a lot of love there. I can tell.” He smiled briefly. “Listen, I’ve got to go. I drove here, and I need to leave now before it gets too light.”

Ivie crossed her arms over her chest. “Okay.”

After a moment, he shifted his legs around her and got to his feet. “Can I come see you tomorrow night when you get off work?”

Her brows lifted. “Yes. Please. That would be great.”

“All right. I’m looking forward to it already.”

The smile he gave her was a shadow of the ones that stretched his cheeks and flashed his teeth, and it was hard not to ask him if she’d done something wrong. But come on, she told herself. They had both been into it. And then her father had called. And then the mood had changed.

She wasn’t exactly feeling the same, either.

“Come here,” he said.

Standing up, she went to him, and as they hugged, she closed her eyes and laid her head on his pecs. “I’m glad you came over.”

I’m also confused. And stupidly worried. And really disappointed we stopped.

Ivie kept all that to herself. It was so close to dawn and she didn’t want him gunning through Caldwell in a rush and getting into an accident, just because she started a conversation that was possibly a big one. Besides, what she was really doing was grasping around for some kind of bedrock when in fact there was none. Even assuming he was willing to articulate what had changed for him, he couldn’t give her what she was really after.

Which was some kind of guarantee she wasn’t going to get hurt. Let down. Disappointed.

Silas was the one who pulled away, but he stopped at her door. “I’m so sorry.”

His voice was strained, and for a second, she weakened and wanted to beg him to stay with her, all day, just to figure stuff out.

“Don’t be.” She marshaled a smile. “It’s all good.”

“I’m just…so sorry I’m out of time.”

“We have tomorrow night, right? So it’ll be fine.”

“Yes. Indeed.”

Silas lifted his hand and then let himself out, and as she went over and locked the deadbolt behind him, she hated the internal heebs she was rocking. This was the bad side of the snow globe stuff, though, this jittery, sloshy feeling in her head and her body the result of caring way too much about something she had no control over.

Yeah, and then there was the sexual frustration.

Glancing over to the sofa, her first instinct was to straighten the cushions and smooth out the dents their bodies had made. But then she thought, No. That would be like erasing what had just happened. Or maybe cutting off their future.

Not that she was superstitious or anything.

Nah.

Crap, she thought. What was it about meeting someone you liked that messed you up so much? She was the original granite countertop, so hard and resilient, you could dice an onion on her and ruin the blade of the knife before she gave an inch. Yet here she was, pulling a chick move by hyper-concentrating on some guy.

She was, in this insecure moment, the very female she did not respect.

Oh, how the mighty have fallen.

* * *

—

Ivie ended up back on her couch, with her head down where it had been and her legs stretched out as they had been. Across the way, on the old steamer trunk she had refurbished on her own, the TV was muted and showing one of the eight hundred Rocky films. A throw blanket that had been knit by her mom was over her lower half, and a half-eaten bowl of Frosted Mini-Wheats was on the coffee table.

It was six forty-eight a.m.

And she knew she wasn’t going to be sleeping anytime soon. Up above her and on either side, her human cohabitants were stirring, getting ready for the day. With her sharp sense of smell, she caught all kinds of coffee scents, hazelnut and regular, peppermint, a pumpkin holdover from the fall. And her keen hearing picked up the flushing of toilets, the padding of feet, the rush of showers.

If she was exhausted enough to fall asleep before all this activity started, she could make it through, no problem. But awake as she was now, there was no chance of drifting off until the last of them emptied out of the building around eight-thirty—

As her phone rang, she turned her head and looked at it. The thing was facedown next to her cereal bowl, and she really wasn’t interested in whoever it was. Which was a limited list considering her father had checked in two hours ago: There was work, with someone looking for her to sub on a night she wasn’t working on. Or a telemarketer. Or a human misdial.

In the unlikely event it was her parents, she threw out a hand and picked—

Ivie sat up and accepted the call. “Silas?”

There was a moment of silence…and then his deep voice. “Hi.”

“Hello.” She pushed her hair out of her face. “Are you okay? Wait, I mean…well, if you were wrapped around a telephone pole right now, you wouldn’t be able to dial a phone.”

“Because I’d be on fire.”

“Yeah.” There was a pause. “I’m glad you called.”

“Listen, we need to talk.”

She closed her eyes. “Okay.”

There was another period of quiet. “I know this is too soon and all, but the truth is…”

“Say it. Whatever it is, I’m going to be okay. I’m tough. I can handle anything.”

His laugh was short, but seemed sincere. “You know, I really believe that.”

“So let’s get this over with.”