Ten
Rachael, a creature
of instinct and, during certain times of the month, a creature of
the moment who did not comprehend the concept of tomorrow or even later,
would never be able to remember exactly how they’d ended up
kissing.
They had been having
a nice let’s-get-acquainted chat. And then she was crying—and
shocked! Where did that come from? Has that
been in me the whole time? She didn’t know if she should be
appalled or sad or pleased or embarrassed.
Scratch that: she
should be embarrassed. She was
embarrassed.
Then Edward was
there, frantically grabbing napkins and handing them to her as fast
as he could while making soothing motions with his hands. She got
to her feet and sort of stumbled toward the front of the store, and
Edward got up and came after her so quickly he smashed his hip
against a magazine display hard enough to make it
rock.
“Rachael, it’s okay.
Don’t leave, okay? Please? Come on, come back and sit down with me
some more.”
Anxiety. Concern. Lust.
Not pity, though. No,
not that. And he wasn’t embarrassed
that a woman he’d just met was sobbing next to a display of
Time, Newsweek, and People magazine’s “Most Annoying People.”
That was sort of
nice. Sort of wonderful, really.
So she turned back
toward him, turned to go back to their little corner table, and he
reached for her—probably for her hand, but she would never know for
certain—and she reached, too. And for a wonder, her hands were on
his face, and his expression mirrored his scent. That was sort of
wonderful, too. A lot of non-Pack said one thing while they thought
another. Werewolves couldn’t, which is why they tended to keep to
themselves.
And then she was
pulling him closer, and he was pulling her closer, and their mouths
met. Softly at first, almost carefully, and then—
Lust. Concern. Happiness. Lust.
—they were holding
each other and his kisses weren’t soft anymore, and she was glad.
She was not in a soft mood.
“Aw, jeez.” From
very, very far away, Rachael heard one of the clerks calling a
manager. It sounded like he was hailing them from the bottom of a
well. “Dave, could you get up here? I got another set of geeks
making out in the paranormal romance section. And they are not
stopping. Repeat, they are not stopping. Code Vlad, repeat, code
Vlad!”
Which was how they
earned a lifetime ban from Barnes and Noble.