Page 40 of Protect Me
Dahlia whistled and threw a napkin in the air. Vik bowed slightly at the waist while I slung his tea together, being overly generous with my favorite creamer. It wasn’t healthy, but with any luck, he wouldn’t inquire. I had a hunch he’d love it against the notes of green.
The ice cubes clinked together when I set it in front of him. He reached for it, but didn’t go anywhere. With no one else stepping into the shop, he stayed. His eyes hadn’t left me. I squirmed, both self-conscious and delighted by the full power of his stare.
How many times had I dreamed of such a moment as this?
Was it real?
Did I imagine a note of interest in his heady perusal?
“Are you excited about the Outfitters?” I asked to get out of my own head.
“Yes. Daniel is pretty chill. It’ll be the perfect summer job to get me through physical therapy, until I figure out what’s next.”
Bastian snorted.
Vik narrowed his eyes on him.
“Will you work every day?” I asked, and grabbed a washcloth to wipe down the counter, just to have something to do with my hands. Otherwise, I might reach over, grab that attractive face, and smack his lips to mine.
“Through the summer,” he murmured, “I hope so.”
Secretly, I couldn’t help a rush of relief. Vik in close proximity could only make me feel safer, as selfish as such a thing seemed. I’d already overtaken his house for the past week or so, but this seemed just right.
“Can you sit with me for a minute?” he asked, reaching for the tall, plastic cup. Before I could respond, Dahlia shoved me away from the counter, bouncing my hip with hers to get me moving.
“You bet she can! It’s her break time.”
Vik winked at her. To me, he said, “Then let’s go outside, lady. It’s gorgeous.”
Full summer sun descended on the porch outside, drawing the scent of warmed pine into the air. Waves of heat basking off the asphalt wrinkled the air. A wiry metal table, painted white, sat off to the side with two chairs propped next to it. An open umbrella shaded it from the heat. I lowered into one of the chairs. Vik moved his so it closed the space between us, but faced the mountains. His sunglasses slid back over his eyes, and I breathed easier.
Splashing, and a squeal, came from behind the coffee shop, where the gentle waves of the lake lingered not far away.
“Do you have any fun summer plans?” He had a pull of the tea, held it in his mouth a moment, then swallowed. A quick grin appeared there. “Perfect.”
A snort almost escaped me.
“Summer plans? Ah, no.”
An inquiring eyebrow raised. He tilted the iced tea toward me, outstretched in a silent offer. I hesitated, but accepted. The cool notes of green tea, creamy and slightly sweet, cooled my throat in the heat.
“Thanks.”
He winked. “You saynoas if that should have been an obvious thing. Why don’t you have any fun summer plans?”
“Money has been tight, so I’ve been planning on picking up any extra hours that I can. I’m trying to save up to go see Vini after the baby comes.”
Plus,I added,I don’t have anywhere to go except Vini and new places are too frightening and I think I forgot how.
Those words remained locked away. Rules number one and four made a clear delineation in this regard: never alone, never somewhere new by myself. With no family that I was close to—or would want to visit—and Vini so far away, little captured my interest.
Or so I told myself.
Traveling alone, after a lifetime of my best friend glued to my hip, had always felt empty anyway. After the assault, too overwhelming. New places made it difficult to feel safe, and I ended up locking myself in a hotel as soon as darkness hinted on the horizon.
I’d tried.
It didn’t work.
