He still couldn’t quite believe how he was acting towards her. First there’d been the incident at her cabin, when he had snuck in during the night and then yesterday morning... His judgement seemed to be slipping where she was concerned, his wolf side pushing to the foreground. That usually didn’t happen. Sure, the beast wanted out, but he’d always kept it in check, until now. So, why was he suddenly having all these conflicting feelings? What was it about Melody that drew him to her? Her warm brown eyes? Her lush breasts? Her quirky personality? Whatever it was, he needed to keep it under control. The woman could very well turn out to be public enemy number one as far as his people were concerned. Involvement with her was nothing but bad news.
As if on cue, Melody wandered into the service bay. She was wearing a denim jacket, tight jeans, and a loose red top that was gathered at the base of her throat by a tie and then flowed over her full breasts to her waist where it swirled gently every time she moved. Ryne wondered if he undid the bow at the neck, would the top fall from her shoulders and puddle at her feet leaving her bare. He felt a grin spread over his face at the idea and clenched his fists to resist the temptation to see if his theory was right.
Obviously unaware of his thoughts, Melody absent-mindedly played with the string that held her top in place, drawing his attention to the rise and fall of her breasts. “Hi! Did you get the list of questions I left? They’re pretty simple, so I was wondering if you were ready to start on them today.”
It took Ryne a moment to realize she was waiting for an answer and forced his gaze away from the interesting activity of her fingers. “Today?” He pondered the question. There was no reason to delay any longer. He’d done that all last week just for the perverse joy of annoying her. But now the time for games was over. The sooner she was gone, the better. “All right. Today is fine. I’m almost done work for the day; I just have to put my tools away.”
“Great!”
“You can wait over there.” Ryne pointed towards a group of chairs by a set of vending machines selling pop, chips, and various chocolate bars. He watched as Melody made herself comfortable—well, at least as comfortable as the old plastic chairs would allow—and then concentrated on cleaning his tools.
Grabbing a rag, he wiped down the wrenches, removing dirt and excess grease, before arranging them in the proper drawers of the tool cabinet. A sound behind him drew his attention and he saw Melody was buying a chocolate bar. The look of happiness on her face as she peeled back the wrapper made him smile. From what he’d seen of her so far, she was seldom without coffee in her hand. Apparently, when the coffee was unavailable, she moved on to chocolate. She was a funny little thing.
Concentrating on finishing his job, he locked the tool box and put the keys away. Moving to the sink, he turned on the water, poured some hand cleaner on his palms and began to work the industrial strength soap into his hands. Soon the layers of grease and grime were washed away and he dried off.
Melody had just finished her treat when he walked over to her.
“Ready?”
She nodded in agreement. “Do you want to talk at the diner or...?”
He hesitated for a minute. At the diner, everyone would be eavesdropping and the chance of his neighbours interrupting with questions of their own was highly likely; it was something he wanted to avoid. “No. There’s a nice little place near the cenotaph with a couple of benches. We could sit there.”
Giving a quick nod, Melody stood and picked up her purse. He ushered her out, calling a goodbye to Ben who was still working in the office. The older man grunted in acknowledgement and Harley gave a woof before settling down to finish one of his many naps.
They walked in companionable silence down Main Street. A few people called a greeting or waved from their vehicle as they drove past. Ryne nodded in response thinking that within half an hour everyone would be talking about him and the ‘new girl’ in town. Oh well, she’d be gone soon enough and he’d no longer be at the centre of the rumour mill.
Sitting down on the bench, Melody pulled out her steno pad and a pen. Ryne braced himself, hoping his answers would be sufficiently convincing to keep her from probing too deeply.
“Ryne, we’re going to start with some simple background information, like date of birth, where you grew up, what your childhood was like—that sort of thing. It will give readers a more rounded picture of you; make you more real to them.”
“No.”
“No?”
“No.”
“Oh.” Melody blinked at him. “Um...why?”
Ryne assumed his most arrogant expression. “Because, I did not truly exist before photography.”