Zander’s arms ached with the need to pull her close, tuck her snug against him where she belonged.
“I did. I’m sorry you saw that. I followed...” He cleared his throat. “I mean, when I was heading to my truck, I heard you yell and lost my temper. Didn’t think. I just reacted.” The Lone Ranger theme song strummed through his brain as he tapped his thumbs against the steering wheel.
“But, how? I mean, you’re huge and everything, but how did you toss him that far without breaking a sweat?” She shifted in her seat, glanced his way, then looked straight ahead.
“I’m strong.” A nervous chuckle escaped his lips. “I’m very strong.” Strong would be an understatement. Superhuman strength and speed. Never been sick. Never seen his own blood. Bona fide freak of nature.
“So, is Z your real name, or does the Z stand for something?”
“It’s short for Zander.”
“Zander. Nice. Last name?”
“Vascos. Zander Vascos.” God, it felt good introducing himself properly. “And Grayce, I don’t believe I got your last name.”
She quickly turned away. “No. No you didn’t.” She wasn’t going to offer it either, judging by the uncomfortable silence that followed. Not in the sharing mood? Didn’t matter. They’d share a last name eventually.
“Well, Zander. Thank you for rescuing me...I think.”
Grayce spent the rest of the drive with her head pressed against the passenger side window. Didn’t say a word or look in his direction. Gave him plenty of time to consider his next move. Obviously, tonight wouldn’t be an ideal time to drop any bombshells regarding their future. They were together. It would do for now.
The truck rolled to a stop and Zander let it run. Grayce sat in silence, palms folded in her lap. He reached across the seat and placed a hand over hers. With the joining of their skin, the bonding energy, unique only to them, surged through their flesh and bones. Grayce jumped and jerked her hands away.
“I’ll drive you back to your car after your shift.” Secretly hoping she’d invite him home with her, he studied her face for a sign, disappointed to find resolute blankness.
“That won’t be necessary. You’ve done so much already. I can get a ride home.” Grayce searched her handbag, fiddled with her phone, jiggled her keys. She wouldn’t look his way.
“Grayce. I need you to look at me, please.” Her sigh cut like a knife to his chest. Fear twisted his heart as he considered the possibility he’d been wrong, that Grayce wasn’t the one. If she were, wouldn’t she be responding to their closeness, to his touch?
Tucking hair behind her ear, she half turned in his direction. “What?”
“No one can know about what happened tonight.”
Slumping, she buried her face in her hands and laughed. “You don’t have to worry. I won’t say a word. Who’d believe me anyway? I still don’t believe it myself.” With a shrug, she opened the door and vaulted from the truck.
“Thank you,” Zander whispered.
Her reserved smile, the blush in her cheeks and the sadness haunting her hazel eyes temporarily paralyzed him.
“I have to get in there. You coming? First drink is on me.” Tilting her head, she smiled shyly. “No. Not the first drink. As many as you want. On me. It’s the least I can do.”
3
As they entered Jane’s Bar, an eerie silence spread through the room. Zander placed his hand on the small of her back and guided her in. Adrenaline burst through veins already burning with an electric heat. The same sensation jolted her senses when he’d touched her in the car, and again in his truck. Did he feel it too? No way was she going to ask. Enough of her crazy side had been revealed for one day.
Unaccustomed to being the center of attention, a heated blush crept its way up her neck and landed hot and throbbing across her face. However, with his six-foot-four-inch frame wrapped neatly with layers upon layers of muscle, all eyes were on Zander. Grayce felt invisible, which was good. Inconspicuous was dead center in her comfort zone.
“Find a seat,” she mumbled. “I’ll be back in a minute and get your drink.” She strode to the back room, shoved her handbag in a locker, changed her clothes and made her way to the mirror.
Mortified by the sight, she bit back a squeal. Mousy brown hair hung frizzed and messy over her shoulders. Flushed cheeks flashed like neon signs across her face.
“Shit.” Twisting loose braids on each side of her head, she scrutinized her reflection and decided the crimson glow was pleasant. It brought out the flecks of green in her eyes. Attempting to perk her boobs, she adjusted her bra. Okay. Everything in place. Good to go.