Where Winter Finds You

Thank God this isn’t one-sided, Therese thought as she watched him go.

 

 

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

 



There were all kinds of reasons to wish the night away, but for Trez, the main one was finally getting off her shift at the restaurant in any moment. Not that he had been counting down the minutes.

Okay, fine. He’d been counting them down since he’d left her.

And he’d come early. Given that this was an average, non-holiday, non-blizzard night, dinner service at Sal’s tended to grind to a halt around 10:30 at the latest. The waiters were usually off quickly thereafter. So yes, he’d shown up at 10:17 and parked in the shadows, outside the reach of the security camera by the back door.

He was not looking for a rehash with iAm. Nope. They’d both said their piece, and there was no going back from the lines that had been drawn. And besides, he was strictly on the happy train now, and anyone who had a problem with that, including his blood relative, could back off.

As Trez waited, ticking off each patron who emerged well-fed and sated into the cold, he couldn’t help contrasting this shelter-in-place with the one during the storm the previous night, the one where he had cut the engine and stayed in the frosted temperatures, the snow blanketing his car, closing him in, keeping him locked and frigid.

It was still winter. But this time, he kept the engine on, and he listened to the Heat on SiriusXM, and he ran his hand around the static steering wheel, sensitizing his fingertips.

Because he wanted them ready to touch soft places. Tender places.

Wet places.

Rearranging himself in his seat, he had to pipe-down-Scotty his damn erection. He couldn’t jump her the second she got in the car, for godsakes.

They had a ten-minute drive to their destination, at least.

After which the jumping could commence, assuming she would have him—

The staff door swung wide and he jerked forward, as if he could get closer her to already. Except… not her. It was that human man, Emile, and with him was a waitress who was talking a mile a minute.

They didn’t seem particularly thrilled to be together, but as far as Trez was concerned they were the perfect frickin’ couple. Total Hallmark time. Beauty and the Beast, Solo and Leia, Sheldon and Amy. Hell, go all the way back to Bogart and Bacall.

“Go forth and marry,” he murmured to the windshield as they went over to an old Subaru. “I wish you maaaaaaaany years of happiness.”

Abruptly, some instinct drew his attention back to the restaurant, and there his female was, coming out into the night, her parka loose—as if she trusted that he’d have a warm car waiting for her—her hair in a neat twist, a flash of lipstick on her mouth.

She had prepared herself for him, and he smiled at the thought. Because it was both sweet and totally unnecessary. He would take her any way she came.

Hell, especially if she were coming.

Opening his door, he didn’t notice the cold in the slightest. “Over here.”

Her head flipped around, and in the glow from the security lights, her happiness was as apparent as the noonday sun.

“Hello,” she said as she walked over to his car. “How’s your night—”

He meant to give her a chance to finish her sentence. His arms had a different idea. He brought her up against him and kissed her deep. And what do you know, she bent into his body and kissed him back. With a groan, he tilted her back, holding her weight, cradling her, as he lost track of everything: The winter weather. The time of night. The fact that anyone who worked there could come out at any time—the chefs, the bartender, the other servers.

Trez pulled back. “Let’s go somewhere more private.”

“Yes,” she said.

Walking her around to the passenger side, he opened her door and gave her his arm. When she was settled in the seat, he closed her in, and hightailed it around the front bumper. He was not ashamed over being seen with her. Not in the slightest. But he worried about the consequences of her being caught with him. He didn’t want any blowback gossip in her workplace—and then there was iAm’s stupid HR-policy shit.

As things progressed between them, he might have to help her find another job… something that not only paid her more, but that used some of her talents—whatever they might be. As a Chosen, she had been sequestered all her life up in the Sanctuary until Phury had freed the Scribe Virgin’s sacred class of females. She was no doubt still learning about herself and what she liked to do and what she was good at.

Maybe she’d like to go to school?

Sliding in behind the wheel, he smiled over at her. “I’m going to take us on a little field trip, if that’s okay?”

“I’m game for anything.”

“It’s not far.” He hit the gas, the four-wheel drive tires grabbed, and they shot forward through the parking lot. “And it is very private.”

The farther he got away from the restaurant’s back door, the more relaxed he became.

“So how was your shift?” he asked as he stopped at the main road.

“Really good. I got over two hundred in tips.”

“Good.” He waited for a car to pass. And then saw another approaching. “So many humans out and about in the cold tonight.”

“By the way, thank you,” she said. “For understanding about your friend and the tip.”

“I don’t want to ever do something that makes you feel uncomfortable.”

“I appreciate that.”

With the coast clear, he took a right and headed down the salted road.

“So we’re not going to the club?” she asked. “Not that I mind. It’s an… intense place.”

Trez laughed. “That’s one word for it. And I know it’s not your vibe.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I’m not.” He reached out and took her hand, giving it a squeeze. “You like quiet spaces.”

“Well, quieter places than a club, for sure.” She let her head fall back on the rest and smiled at him. “And…”

“And what.”

She just shook her head. Then she brought his hand up and kissed his knuckles. “What about your night? How’s things at your work?”

“No one got shot, as far as I know.”

“So you weren’t at the club?” Abruptly, she sat up and twisted toward him. “Not that I’m checking up on you. Just to make that perfectly clear—”

“You can put a tracking chip in my head if you want. It doesn’t bother me. But nah, I just had some things to arrange outside of there.”

As they continued along, they passed by strip malls of shops. An office park. A supermarket, gas station, DMV facility, and a real estate developer’s complex. After that, the zoning turned residential, and the neighborhoods were modest but tidy, the houses cheerfully lit for the season with lots of light strings on eaves, and blow-up Santas in yards, and Christmas trees in bay windows.

“This is a beautiful car,” she commented.

“I bought it on a whim.” He rubbed his thumb on the inside of her wrist. “I had a different one that was much more practical. But I really like to drive, you know? It calms my mind. I realize I could dematerialize places a lot quicker, but sometimes, it’s good to take the roads.”