Page 25 of Wicked Bite
Without another word, he began to walk down Essex Street toward Crow Heaven Corner, the one store in Salem that might be open this late. “Are we shopping?”
“No, I fancy a nip tonight. Care to join me?” He glanced over his shoulder. “You won’t regret it.”
The way he played, the way he smiled, the way he smelled, there was no doubt in my mind that I would regret it all. But if I was going down, it would be in flames. I moved to his side, and he offered me his arm. I placed my hand in the crook of his elbow.
“I didn’t think people did this anymore.”
“The lack of gentlemen these days astounds even me. To offer one’s arm to a lady . . . well that’s like offering an escort right through the gates.”
I fell into step with him as he guided me down the streets. “The gates of heaven?”
A wicked smile spread across his face. “Whatever gates get you to where you want to be. I can’t pretend to lead the way to either heaven or hell. But it will always be an adventure.”
Snowflakes began to fall all around us, and I huddled into my coat as we stopped at a crosswalk at the corner of Essex and Washington Square West. The road was wide, accommodating multiple lanes of traffic and room for parking. Down the center was a divider with small trees and bushes. To one side was the first witch shop Salem had to offer and across the street was the Hawthorn Hotel.
“And where are we going to have a nip?”
He nodded toward the hotel. “I’m staying just there.”
“You expect me to go to your room?” I tried to sound appropriately appalled. But it was a failed effort. I was intrigued by this sizzling current I felt between the two of us and what it could lead to.
The light changed and he guided me across the street toward the hotel. “I said a nip, not a shag.”
Warmth heated my cheeks, and I dropped my hand from his arm. “We’re here for a drink and nothing more?”
“Piper, you are free to do whatever you’d like. You can go or come if you’d like. Either way, I will be here again tomorrow and will ask you out again tomorrow and the next day and the next day.” He shoved his hands into his pockets. “I have all the time in the world.”
I looked up at the red brick exterior and ornate double wooden doors. Each of the windows was surrounded by carved gray stone, with blue awnings hanging above each of the first-floor windows. The Hawthorne Hotel was tall and imposing, but it very much belonged in this town and matched the historical feel that came with all things New England. I didn’t make it a habit to go into the Hawthorne. Eerie energy rolled off this place, and it sent goosebumps over my skin, so I tended to avoid it.
“You know they say this place is haunted.”
“So, I’ve heard.” He grabbed the door and held it open for me. “One drink at the pub. We’ll have a chat and see if we can get some things sorted.”
“One drink.” I stepped inside and instantly I was greeted with a heavy feeling. The hotel itself was beautifully preserved, with bright white woodwork, dark cushy carpeting, and sturdy antique-looking furniture. Recessed lighting gave the lobby a light warm color this time of night. It was so very quiet with only one person standing behind the front desk who didn’t look up. Grayson didn’t hesitate as he walked through the lobby and straight toward the tavern. He paused, letting me through the door first.
It was beautiful in an old study kind of way. Oak covered every inch of the room. From the floors to the ceiling. Even the posts in the middle of the room were covered in perfectly carved oak. Low tables were spread throughout with leather wingback chairs residing at each. There were no TVs or loud music. This place was elegant and quiet. With gold trim and polished glasses.
He moved to my side and pressed his hand to my lower back. I was all too aware of the tips of this fingers, the way his body turned protectively toward mine, and how gentle but firm he was. A fire crackled in the fireplace, and he led us to the table right in front of it. There was only one other couple, and they sat at the other end of the room in matching dark wingback chairs.
I slid my hands from my jacket and laid it on the back of my chair. Grayson froze, staring at me. I tugged at the sleeves of my black sweater dress. “What?”
“Lovely as ever.” He motioned for me to sit across from him. Another shiver went over my body, and I tried to ignore it. He tilted his head to the side studying me. “Are you too cold?”
“No, there’s just something about this place that gives me the creeps. Ghosts and all that.”
“There are far worse, far scarier things in this world than ghosts.” He sat in the chair and leaned back. When he steepled his fingers and pressed them to his lips, he looked like the villain in a movie. The firelight flickering over his face made his features all warm and shadowy.
A waiter dressed in a white button-down shirt, black vest, and black pants approached our table. He carried a silver serving tray. It was a far cry from the outfits I wore when working in a bar. “May I take your order?”
“Ladies first.” He motioned to me. “What do you desire, Piper?”
I raised my eyebrows at him. Loaded question. I turned to the waiter. “I’ll have a Pinot Noir.”
The man gave me a single nod then hesitated. “I’m sorry, miss, but can I see some ID?”
“Absolutely.” I was a bartender myself and I wouldn’t begrudge a fellow service worker from doing their job. I rummaged through my purse and handed it over to him.
He chuckled and looked me over. “You don’t look twenty-three.”
