Page 18 of Fence

8

Ciera

What in theheck was I doing?

I caught my eye in the rearview mirror, and what I saw angered me.

I was excited.

“Chill out,” I warned myself, though I knew there was no point. I was already too far gone. But who could blame me? How long had I been working in a vacuum, with only a very few people who gave a damn about what was so near and dear to my heart. I would finally get the chance to share my work with somebody who seemed to be interested.

“He’s not really interested, Ciera.” I had reminded myself of that so many times in just one short day. He didn’t care about my research—not for the same reason I did, anyway. It was personal for him. I couldn’t have described how I knew it. I just did.

Which meant he didn’t find me interesting, either.

“That doesn’t matter.”

Muttering to myself was a habit I thought I’d broken myself of years earlier. One which had gotten me made fun of endlessly when I was growing up. Seanmhair once told me I had too many thoughts for my brain to contain, so some needed to come out every once in a while. It had been a little bit of a comfort, anyway. I had needed all the comfort I could get in those days—Mom and Dad gone, no friends. And a penchant for talking to myself.

It didn’t matter whether or not Fence found me interesting on a personal level. Which he didn’t. He absolutely did not. I was the girl who’d knocked herself out cold in the cave he was exploring. I was also the girl he’d treated with suspicion. It was that suspicion which likely made him want to meet up with me. Nothing more than that. The thought made my chest twinge in a funny way. I hated the feeling that he was only using me. Who wouldn’t?

But for what? That was what I couldn’t understand. What interest could he have in anything to do with the clans? He was my age, maybe a little older. Thirty, tops. He was obviously American. And he didn’t strike me as a villain. It was a stupid thought, and I knew it. But that didn’t make it any less true. He seemed like a normal person.

And my instincts were always sharp.

I parked before hauling the wheeled suitcase from the trunk of my rental car. God, it had taken forever to get the hang of driving out here. I wondered how long it would take me to get used to driving in America again once I got home.

I nodded to a few people who were coming out of the library as I was walking in—one of them was a tall, redheaded man with a brilliant smile and thoughtful eyes. He offered a wink as he held the door for me, and I couldn’t help but giggle softly to myself. Some women didn’t like little come-ons like that, but they didn’t bother me. Except when the jerk got grabby or asked me to smile more.

“Who’s that guy?” I gasped in surprise when I almost walked straight into a firm, wide chest.

I bounced right off and would’ve fallen on my butt if a pair of strong hands hadn’t caught my arms.

I looked up and realized I could’ve guessed who it was. Fence’s dark eyes looked stormy.

“Caught you again,” he nearly growled as he straightened me up. I ran a hand over my carefully arranged curls to be sure they weren’t sticking up at all angles. I hadn’t spent a half hour taming them just to look like I’d stuck my finger in an electrical socket.

“You have a habit of catching me,” I replied with a breathless laugh. Even when he let go, I could still feel the pressure of his hands on my biceps. It wasn’t an unwelcome feeling.

“You have a habit of falling. Did you even hear my question?” He peered through the glass panes set in the double doors, looking outside with his eyes narrowed.

“No. What was it?” I tried to think back.

“I asked you who that guy was. The one who winked at you.”

I almost laughed. “That’s what you’re so worked up about? He was a stranger.”

He turned his attention from the windows and looked me up and down. “Anyway, here we are.”

“Yes. Lucky us, huh?” This was going well. “Do you want to look at what I have, or what?”

The corner of his mouth quirked up in a wry smile, and my cheeks burned.

“Yes. I would very much like to see what you have.” He nudged my suitcase with the toe of his trainer. “Tell me this isn’t it.”

“No. I thought I would bring my laundry with me.”

He chuckled. “All right, all right. I’m old-fashioned. I don’t believe a man should get away with being rude to a woman. I’m sorry my ideas are antiquated.”

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