Page 52 of Bad Moon Rising
“I don’t do espresso!” She gave him an impromptu hug.
“Now people are looking,” he whispered.
“Oh.” She fast-perused the bakery display. “A croissant might be nice, too. Thanks.”
He nodded and waved her to a free table. Several women stared at Roman as he moved to the counter to order, not that he noticed. He moved through people as if they didn’t interest him. He knew where they were, but she’d noticed he avoided direct interaction and contact unless necessary. Such a contradiction for someone who spent his life protecting humans from things that would consume their nightmares. She wondered if it wasn’t just about avoidance of people, but life in general. Perhaps, he survived by focusing on duty and didn’t actually live life. She was glad she made him notice the smell.
He returned to the table with a pile of pastries and two coffees.
“Hungry?” she asked.
“Let’s figure out what you like.” He waved at the pastries. How thoughtful.
She picked up a small biscuit cookie to nibble but shook her head. “Too crunchy.”
“Try the scone,” he recommended.
One bite. “Nope. No scones. Maybe I’m not a pastry person.”
“I’m taking notes over here.” He almost spit out his sip of coffee from laughter when she had to empty her mouth into a small napkin after biting into a cheesy sweet concoction.
“Sorry.” Her face went hot. “I’ll stick with croissants. What about you? What do you like?”
He shrugged. “I’m not picky.”
“Is it bad to be picky? Does it mean I’m high maintenance?”
“Maybe you’re not into sweets.”
“If I dribbled chocolate all over you, I’d lick it off and like it.” She slapped a hand over her mouth. “Did I just say that out loud? Forget I said that.”
“No undoing that. It’s stuck in here.” He tapped his head. “Moon madness.”
“It’s mid-morning. There’s no moon in the sky.”
He peeked out the window. “Maybe not a full moon, but there’s one in the sky. This insanity is our bodies cranking up for the main event later today.”
His eyes traveled down her body and back up; he wet his lips with his tongue.
Her mind flashed back to the moment his lips were on hers, the way his fingers had dug into her, the desperation flowing from his fingertips. Things were about to get a lot more interesting as the day wore on.
In silence, they ate for a while.
She leaned back and stared at him. “You may have to answer to someone, but you like what you do most of the time. Why do you do it? Save humans against things that go bump in the night?”
“I’m cursed to follow orders.”
“Sure, you’re forced into some things, but that only goes so far.”
He wiped a few crumbs off the table. “Perhaps so. It’s a good cause. Most of the time. Occasionally, the missions we’re ordered on are based on erroneous information.”
She reached out and put her hand over his. “I might be as bad as they made me out. I don’t remember. I appreciate you trying to help me figure it out, but if I start to show an inclination toward evil or world domination, do your job.”
He rotated his hand to hold hers and stared at their connection. “The fact you considered it means you’re not someone I should kill.”
“We don’t know.” She removed her hand from his. “Tell me something about yourself. What pastry do you like? Are you a scones person?”
He shook his head. “I’m not into a lot of sweets, but I’ve realized I like chocolate.”
